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I want to believe that he’s acting, that this is some sick joke, a very sick and unfunny joke. But Felipe speaks with too much earnestness, too much sincerity.
I study him more closely. “What you’re saying makes it sound like what happened to Amy was…homicide.”
He has no reaction. I start to shake. “That’s just…that’s just crazy! Why would anyone want to kill Amy?”
He stares at the floor again.
“You said you overheard some guy talk about Amy?” I press.
“He was talking to another guy who does similar work, griping that he has the worst luck because you weren’t there last night and how pissed off JD is going to be.”
I feel like my brain just exploded.
“What does JD have to do with this?” I ask, my voice starting to quiver.
Felipe continues to hang his head and murmurs, “He ordered the hit.”
My legs don’t feel sturdy, so I sit down. My mind doesn’t know what to think. Did I hear Felipe right? JD hired someone to kill Amy?
I look up at Felipe. “You’re frickin’ kidding me, right?”
It’s a plea that, deep down, I already know the answer to.
He looks at me. “You think I’d pull this kind of joke on you after your friend just died?”
Of course he wouldn’t. I put my head in my hands. I’m still confused.
“If what you’re telling me is true, it’s—why would he do this? Is he really that tired of Amy pursuing him?”
Felipe starts to pace the room. “I don’t know for sure. My guess is that Amy found out something. JD’s not the most cautious guy.”
“Found out what?”
His pacing picks up speed. “Probably something to do with his line of work.”
“Importing chemical compounds?” A realization hits me. “Are these illegal chemical compounds?”
“Usually. Or closely regulated stuff like pseudoephedrine, which is used to make meth. But it’s not just chemicals.”
I’m not sure I want to know more.
“More recently, he’s been importing…women.”
I suddenly remember Amy’s research on sex trafficking. That’s probably not a coincidence.
“How can you be sure?” I inquire.
Felipe looks like I punched him in the gut. He kneels down in front of me and grabs my hands. “Bridget, what I just told you could get me killed. Promise you won’t tell anyone.”
I look into his imploring eyes. Of course I don’t want to get him into trouble, but if everything he says is true, how can I not go to the police?
“How long have you known this?” I ask.
“Several years.”
Several years?!
“Why haven’t you gone to the police about this?”
