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I just wanted to reach one person.
Maybe that goal was too small, but I had to start somewhere.
“I’m willing to wait a little if it’s better for the long-term.”
“Thank you,” Veronica said in a rush. “My producer wanted to see a sample of the interview. She ended up watching the entire thing. She never does that.”
The pessimistic part of me wondered if that was because I’d just handed over intensely personal fodder about our family. Something no one ever had access to.
“I’ll speak to you soon.”
I wandered back over to Cal and Zegas. “Any word?”
“Shouldn’t be too long now,” Zegas said. He dropped down on a wooden bench. “I love overtime. It means I don’t have to go home.”
“Have you ever considered finding a new home?” I asked, slipping my arm through Cal’s.
“Every single day.” He put a hand to his forehead. “If only I could find an attorney good enough to help me keep everything I’ve earned.”
“I heard that Whitley guy is pretty good,” I muttered.
“Ugh. I’m not sure what’s worse. Working with him or being married.”
“So once Joe’s out, this is done?” Cal asked gruffly, clearly and rightly preoccupied with his brother.
“Unless you want to press charges against the real assailant.” He leaned forward and put his forearms on his knees.
“Won’t the police move forward?” I asked.
He smirked. “They aren’t going to figure this one out.”
“How are you so sure you have?” Cal narrowed his gaze on the lawyer.
“Technology helps, but sometimes it comes down to old-fashioned grunt work.”
“Just come out with it.” Irritation vibrated off my husband.
“Our private investigator hit the streets. Money truly is what rules the world.” He quirked one side of his mouth. “That and people’s innate inability to keep their mouths shut.”
“I seriously doubt whoever did it decided to spill their guts,” I said.
“For a price, they might be convinced. In this case, you’re right. He didn’t.” Zegas seemed determined to drag his story out for maximum dramatic effect. “All criminals eventually screw up. Technically all people do, but I suppose that’s neither here nor there.” He waved himself off.
“We’re not paying you by the hour for this,” I muttered.
“By the minute is fine with me.” He smiled smugly. “One of my guys asked a neighborhood kid if he’d seen anything. Noticed he kept late hours. Kid didn’t want to talk much until he offered him a little cash money. He flicked his chin behind my PI, said ‘there’s your guy.’”
“It’s somebody from the neighborhood?” Cal asked incredulously.
Zegas focused on me. “Daddy dearest is certainly ballsy. It takes guts to station the same watch at the scene of the crime as the one who committed the crime.”
My lips parted. “My father is behind this?”
I couldn’t have heard right, though it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility given his track record. But why? What did he have against Cal’s brother?
“It would be a little difficult to make the connection, but yeah. He’s behind it.”
“How are you so sure the kid is telling the truth? A lot of people will say anything for money.” Cal folded his arms.
