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No, evidence.
A smoking gun, just like he said.
“Wait, so you have total proof they paid him off?”
“Enough to connect the dots.” He grins. “My legal team never had a case handed to them so neat.”
“Wow.”
My brain is spinning as it snaps into place.
I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.
His nonstop whining about being 'just an intern,' his daily salary complaints, even though he drives a newer car than me.
The way he targeted me, always sucking up, trying to make me think he just wanted a friend or he was that hard up for a date.
“So, you’re suing him to death, right?”
“Criminal charges. Only way they ease up is if he spills everything on the Cervas. They’re not worming their way out of this. It’s just a matter of time. I have the proof—unauthorized access and material theft. All that’s left to do is pour the heat on Meghan. Seeing how she acts, I suspect she’ll come to her senses sooner or later. She’ll crack and she’ll tell us just how fucked up her mother really is to save her own skin.”
Ouch.
Poor Meghan.
Yes, she’s a massive tool and a phony—even if she’s been under crazy pressure—but with a mother like that?
It’s hard to despise her.
I really want to know how much she’s been threatened and ground into compliance.
With any luck, she won’t get the bad ending. This whole thing blowing open could be a fresh start for her.
Adriana, on the other hand...
I hope that witch gets whacked in the face by her own broomstick.
The message from Meghan flashes again in my brain. I purse my lips, wondering what that was all about.
Another pathetic scheme by her mom, probably.
Something meant to drive a wedge between me and Shepherd, if she wasn’t fishing for information about our plans so she could cause more mischief.
Adriana Cerva really should’ve hired better minions than Mark.
I grit my teeth at the thought.
“Once she’s discredited,” Shepherd continues, “the ripple effect should finish off Dumas’ claims. They’ve been dropping off the radar anyway, now that she’s milked time in the spotlight. People lose interest fast without a steady stream of fresh crap. Then we can get on with our lives.”
“Two birds, one stone,” I agree. “Pretty awesome sleuthing.”
And it is, if only it wasn’t one more sign of the end.
We go silent, still sharing a smile as I pull away. I settle next to him and stroke Molly’s neck.
It’s colder now, the realization stark and silent and hurting, even if I’m thrilled we get to walk away from this in one piece.
Shepherd doesn’t move, either.
