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“An employee at the spy shop confirmed it was Jessica who bought the code grabber.” This was the part that had sealed it for Finley. “When you discovered it was Jessica who’d purchased it—and you must have—and planted it in your husband’s sock drawer, didyourealize she was the one who’d killed him?”
That truth must have cut to the bone.
“I did.” Ellen drew in a heavy breath. “At that stage I wasn’t completely convinced she and Marsh had formed an alliance of sorts. Not until Ventura found Marsh’s prints on the murder weapon. Obviously, Jessica used Marsh to get what she wanted—a scapegoat for her big exit.”
Finley mulled over the idea. “And disappearing was her endgame? Take the money and run. Away from a handsome, well-bred husband and an enviable career by anyone’s standards. It just wasn’t enough. Or maybe it was too much.”
Winthrop dipped her head in acknowledgment. “I couldn’t protect her from herself. Sometimes when that level of brilliance blooms at such a young age, it comes with other issues. Jessica never learned to play well with others. Jarrod should never have continued to play with Marsh while he toyed with Jessica. It was a destructive combination for all involved.”
“How long do you plan to continue protecting her?” Apparently, Finley hadn’t completely snuffed out her former ADA self. She was interrogating the woman like the star witness for the defense. “According to her husband, she left, took her passport with her. Should we expect Marsh’s body to show up anytime now? I can’t see Jessica sharing the money with anyone.”
“You and Jack needn’t worry. I am very, very good at tying up loose ends,” Winthrop assured her. “As for Marsh, Jessica will toy with her as long as it suits her.”
Finley smiled with the realization of what Winthrop was telling her. “You know where they are, and you have a plan.”
“You really should have higher aspirations, Finley. No offense to Jack, but you are capable of so much more.”
She’d heard that a lot lately. Except she didn’t feel all that capable right now.
Winthrop gestured to the table where the laptop waited. “Make yourself comfortable. If you have any questions, I will summon Vivian. She’s working late tonight.”
Finley moistened her lips, hated that her pulse was suddenly tripping. “Thanks.”
Winthrop left her office, closing the door behind her.
Finley stared at the laptop only a few steps away. Surely if the thumb drive had contained nothing, Winthrop would have said as much.
This could be it.
The moment Finley had been waiting for all these months.
With a deep breath, she moved to the conference table and sat down. She tapped the space bar, and the screen lit up. A barrage of unopened files and images filled the space. She flinched. So it wasn’t empty.
“Okay,” she murmured. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. A lump had settled in her gut, and her chest felt so tight she couldn’t get a breath. “Just do this.”
She opened the first folder and scanned the contents. Lists of dates and locations. Names. Images and more images. All regarding Dempsey and his company. Numerous meetings with a South American drug lord were listed. Finley sat back, stunned. “Holy hell.”
She kept going. This drug lord, Ivan Orejuela, was one of the primary sources of heroin in the illegal drug world. The information Finley was staring at suggested Orejuela also represented a significant source for Dempsey Pharma.
“Jesus Christ. What the hell were you doing, Derrick?”
There were detailed documents and research studies about the issues with Dempsey Pharma’s newest miracle painkiller. The rumors were right, and Finley was looking at the evidence. Deep inside, she started to shake.
Derrick had been collecting this information for months before his death.
Finley’s hands fell to her lap, and she leaned back once more, away from the screen. She felt as if she’d just run a marathon. Out of breath. Her heart pounding. Her muscles quivering. The only reason for Derrick to have been collecting this sort of evidence was if he’d worked for the police or the DEA. Some law enforcement group.
She bit her lips together and squeezed her eyes shut to hold in the emotion.No damned tears. Keep it together.
Was it possible that he was one of the good guys?
She forced her eyes open and placed her fingers on the keys once more and opened the final file icon. The file opened and revealed avideo. Blood roaring in her ears, fingers trembling, she adjusted the volume, braced herself, and hit play.
Derrick’s face appeared on the screen.
Finley’s heart stumbled.
“Finley, if you’re watching this instead of hearing it straight from me, then I’m probably not around, and you or someone has found the evidence I stashed.” He smiled, a pale version of his usual broad grins, and still every fiber of her being reacted. “Sorry about that,” he said. “I wouldn’t have left you like this if I had a choice in the matter.”
