Chapter 565 The Climb and the Catch

“Why would an indoor janitor have a sunburned neck like that?” Yunice murmured. “See that pale strap mark? That comes from wearing a camera while doing outdoor stakeouts. He’s been out in the sun for long periods.”

The so-called janitor wasn’t a janitor at all—just a reporter in disguise.

Reporters weren’t just keyboard warriors or gossip-mongers. In their line of work, eccentric talents thrived. When they wanted a story, they’d pull tricks that even thieves would admire.

And judging by how confidently this one was slipping out of the building, he’d likely scored something valuable.

Yunice and Wyatt exchanged a look, then instinctively tugged their baseball caps down lower and began circling to intercept the “janitor.”

Yunice whispered, “I saw a motorcycle shoot down the back alley just now—probably his ride out of here.”

That side of the building was remote and partially walled off. No regular car could get through. Obviously, the reporter had arranged his getaway carefully.

If they wanted to beat him there…

Yunice looked up at the wall ahead.

If they could climb it, they’d catch him in time.

Wyatt clasped his left wrist with his right hand, crouched low, and jerked his chin toward the top of the wall. “Up.”

He was offering her a lift.

Yunice nodded with surprising seriousness, backed up two steps, then ran forward—vaulting, stepping onto his arm—

And slipped.

She ended up dangling awkwardly from his arm.

Wyatt couldn’t help but laugh. “Can’t even make it up a wall?”

He’d always suspected Yunice wasn’t as delicate as she let on.

After all, how could someone with her supposedly fragile frame survive three years in a psych ward?

Girls like her had died in there.

When she’d nodded so confidently just now, he’d actually believed she could do it.

Yunice clutched her chest, wincing. “You lifted too high!”

Wyatt laughed harder. “If I went any lower, you wouldn’t reach the top at all.”

He looked up. “Want me to go first and pull you up?”

Yunice didn’t like that either. This was about Oscar—how could she let anyone else take charge?

She stared at the wall, unwilling. “What if you go up first, then pull me?”

That worked.

Wyatt backed up, took two steps, and pushed off the wall. In seconds, he was perched on top, legs astride the concrete edge.

He leaned over and held out a hand. “You really ought to practice. How else are you gonna keep up with me?”

Yunice stretched out but couldn’t quite reach.

So she ran off, grabbed a nearby brick, and stepped up on it.

Wyatt’s big hand gripped her smaller one—his rolled-up wine-red sleeves revealed lean forearms with defined veins.

With a sharp pull, Yunice practically flew upward.

He caught her by the waist, hoisting her onto the ledge with ease.

Yunice stared at him in awe.

So strong.

There was a kind of force in Wyatt she’d never felt from Paul, Owen, or any man around her before.

Wyatt smirked. That was the effect he was going for.

Just as they dropped down the other side, the “Janitor” emerged. He tossed his cart aside, pulled off his mask and hat, and ditched the rest of his disguise.

The moment he glanced up to locate his ride, Wyatt lunged from the shadows and pinned him down. Yunice quickly frisked him, and sure enough—found a tiny hidden camera tucked against his body.

When the man saw his precious footage being taken, he began to struggle, but Wyatt had him locked in place.

Yunice extracted the memory card and transferred the data to her own drive. She gave Wyatt a signal.

Wyatt released him—and the man erupted in fury, but before he could do anything, Wyatt grabbed Yunice’s hand and bolted.

She ran fast, even glanced back mid-stride—but wasn’t worried. With Wyatt holding her, she wouldn’t fall. As they ran, Yunice burst out laughing.

It had been years since she’d done something this openly rebellious.

Grab and dash.

Wyatt slowed once he confirmed no one was chasing them.

Yunice, gasping, held her side. “Isn’t there any other way besides this… indecent method?”

Wyatt grinned. “Fun, wasn’t it?”

She didn’t realize it herself, but in her usual, polished interactions with Wyatt, she always seemed guarded and distant. Perfectly polite.

But when she laughed like this—it was real. Genuine.

Still, the moment passed. She quickly returned to her usual composure, pulling out her phone to review the footage.

“This guy’s actually pretty good. He really filmed Morgan.”

Morgan was supposed to be in the interrogation room, a place no one could get into except authorized personnel. Yunice had no idea how this reporter pulled it off.

The footage didn’t show faces—it was pitch black. But you could hear the cops grilling him, and Morgan ranting incoherently.

A cop barked, “What’s your relationship with Elsie?!”

Morgan laughed like a maniac. “She’s my stallion—I ride her, giddy-up, giddy-up!”