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Another nod. “I can do that.”
Finley squared her shoulders. “All right then. As you know, last year I brought down Carson Dempsey’s only son.”
“He was a rapist. A scumbag.”
Finley nodded. “More so than you know. I had several other defendants but only one with evidence. Whoever murdered him once he was in prison probably didn’t care that he was a rapist. I’m certain it was about his father. Someone wanted to get back at Carson Dempsey. But Dempsey blamed me for the loss of his son.”
“You think he ordered the hit on your husband.” Houser hesitated. “On you.”
“I know he did.” Finley faltered. No turning back now. She’d taken a lot of risks, and she was okay with that. But now Matt was getting involved, and Jack wanted to do the same. She would not risk their safety. “The man who murdered my husband, his name was Billy Hughes.”
Houser’s chin came up in an aha gesture. “The guy from the convenience store.”
“That’s the one.”
“Then you do know the identities of the men who invaded your home that night.”
She shrugged. “I couldn’t remember at first. Only bits and pieces. But then I started to recall voices and images. The first time I ran into one of them, I knew it was him. They’ve been watching me sincethatnight. Probably even weeks before that.”
“You provoked Hughes.” He gave a knowing nod. “Gave the clerk an opportunity to do something.” Houser narrowed his eyes. “How did you know the clerk kept a shotgun under the counter?”
Finley laughed a short, brittle sound. Drank more of her beer. “I didn’t know and didn’t care. At the time I still had moments of just wanting someone to end it. Hughes provided an opportunity, and I suddenly wanted to take it.”
Houser lowered his gaze, sipped his own beer.
“I still lingered on the fringes of a bad place.”
He looked up then. “What about now?”
“Now I’m in a better place. I watch them and they watch me.” It sounded surreal, but it was true. “We all know it won’t last forever. I have an endgame, and I suspect Dempsey does as well.”
“You believe the rumors that Dempsey’s newest pharmaceutical creation is bad business? Worse as far as addiction and side effects than any that came before it.”
“I don’t know any more about it than you do, probably, but I know where there’s smoke, there’s usually a fire.”
“No one has been able to prove any of those vague rumors,” Houser admitted.
“Chet Flock,” Finley said.
Houser nodded. “He’s been avoiding my reach.”
“I spotted him a few hours ago outside a Starbucks. He’s still watching me.”
“Damn.” Houser’s lips compressed with frustration. “He won’t be able to avoid me forever,” he promised.
“He’ll try,” she assured him. “Flock is the third guy fromthatnight. He mostly watched, videoed parts of it, for the boss, I imagine. He’s closer to Dempsey. I’m guessing he knows plenty. Turn him, and you get Dempsey.”
Houser chuckled. “Remember, O’Sullivan, I’m just a homicide detective. I think you’re looking for the DEA. I will gladly get the ball rolling, but I’ll need help from the right source to go after Dempsey.”
“If the DEA could nail Dempsey,” she offered, “they would have already. If the rumors are true, Dempsey is good. Careful. He’s a hero to many. A pillar of the community to most. His son’s trouble put him in a bit of a bad light. Made him vulnerable for the first time, lending credibility to those vague rumors. If he isn’t stopped soon, he’ll bury those rumors for good.”
Houser moved his head slowly side to side in disapproval. “You’ve already taken a great many risks, and I can understand your need to get these people. Do you have any evidence of what you’re alleging?”
“I can’t prove anything. But there’s only one guy left now.”
“Oh hell. Tark Brant,” Houser muttered. His expression turned somber. “You were there when he was shot.”
Not a question. “I was there.”
