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When she’d finagled the bed rail down, she eased carefully onto the bedside. “Why are you still awake?”
She had never been so exhausted in her life, and still she might never sleep again. It was over. She had the truth she had been searching for. It had taken hours to sort out the situation with the police who arrived, lights and sirens blazing. Every single person on her block had come out to help.
“I was waiting for you.” He stared up at her, his bruised face making her heart ache. “Jack said you were coming right back.”
She smiled. Yeah, that had been like six hours ago. “I had to take care of a few things. But I’m here now. How are you feeling?”
“Like I was hit by a Mack Truck.”
She rustled up a laugh that sounded raspy and kind of pitiful after all the crying she’d done. “Nah, that was the other guy.”
Matt laughed, then winced.
She took his hand—the one not inundated with needles and IV lines—in hers. “I found another thumb drive.”
He searched her face. “You did? Why didn’t you call me? I could have called my guy.”
And he would have. Finley knew she could always count on Matt. “I took care of it.” Her lips trembled, and for a moment she couldn’t speak. As if he understood, Matt waited for her to go on, his own eyes bright with emotion.
“Derrick worked for the DEA. He was collecting evidence against Dempsey. The bastard was buying some of his drugs from a South American drug lord. There are FDA rules against that sort of thing. He’d somehow blocked numerous research studies warning about the potential ill effects of his miracle product. Basically, from what I could tell, he’s in pretty deep shit.”
Matt grinned. “This is good news, Fin.”
“Derrick had infiltrated Dempsey’s organization before he met me.”
“Which means,” Matt pointed out, “that nothing you did put him in Dempsey’s path. He was already there.”
She nodded. “It was another agent. He sold Derrick out.”
She wanted to say more but couldn’t find her voice again. Matt understood. He held her hand. Didn’t ask questions. Just let her be.
She decided not to tell him about the thug Dempsey had sent to take her out when she left Winthrop. No need to bother him just now with how she’d called her friend in CSI, Tommy Hanes. He’d comeright over and helped her search the house. He had found four bugs in her house and two in her car. Dempsey had been listening all this time. This was how he so often knew her next move. Bastard. At least he hadn’t been able to get to her phone, or he might have inflicted far more damage.
Eventually, she said, “The DEA has everything. I sent a copy to yours and Jack’s emails too. Seems like it’s over. Done. At least my part.” The burn of tears was back, and Finley wanted to scream. She had lost so much and could have lost more. And she was so damned tired.
Matt reached over, swiped away a tear. “No crying.” He pulled her down next to him, hugged her to his battered body. “You did it, Fin. You solved the case and you beat that bastard.”
She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to think anymore. Definitely didn’t want to cry anymore.
Matt was right. She had beaten that bastard and survived. She’d helped to finish what Derrick had started. Just as important, she had cleared his name.
“Fin, you know you’re my hero, right?”
She peered up at her friend. “I’m no hero, Matt.” He knew the things she had done. Whatever hero material she’d possessed was long gone now.
“You’re one of the strongest people I know. You were the best damned ADA Davidson County has ever seen. And you never gave up on finding the truth for Derrick. What else would you call that except a hero?”
She didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer.
“Jack and I talked about you while you were MIA all those hours,” Matt went on.
“Should I be worried?” Speaking of Jack, he was not going to be happy when he found out she had taken the thumb drive she hadn’t told him about to Winthrop. Ended up with a hired gun in her back seat. It really was a miracle she’d survived.
She would never ever again get annoyed at her nosy neighbor. If anyone in all this was a hero, it was Helen Roberts.
Life was full of ironies.
“Jack feels you’re not reaching your full potential at the firm.”
