Chapter 11 - The Names
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Three days later, Karen was discharged from the hospital.
She walked out on her own. Slow. Careful. But on her own. I was waiting in the lobby with Jake.
"Ready?"
"Ready."
We drove to a safe house. One of Jake's. A nondescript apartment in a quiet neighborhood. No one would think to look for us there.
Inside, Karen spread the ledger across the kitchen table. Pages and pages of names.
"These are the people Mom worked for. And with. Politicians. Cops. Businessmen."
Jake leaned over. Scanned the pages. His face went pale.
"Jesus."
"What?"
He pointed to a name. "That's the deputy mayor."
"Okay."
"And that's a federal judge."
"Shit."
"And that..." He trailed off.
"Who?"
He looked at me. "That's my boss."
The room went quiet.
"Your boss?"
"The SAC. Special Agent in Charge." He sat down. Heavy. "I've known him for fifteen years. He... he was at my wedding."
"Can we trust him?"
"I don't know." He rubbed his face. "I don't know anything anymore."
Karen spoke up. "We need to go higher. The FBI. The DOJ. Someone outside the city."
"The DOJ is in DC. I know a guy. An old friend. He works in public integrity."
"Can you reach him?"
"I can try." Jake stood up. "But we need to be careful. If my boss is involved, he'll be watching. He'll know if I make any moves."
"What do we do?"
"We wait. We plan. And we don't trust anyone."
I looked at Karen. She nodded.
"Okay."
Jake left. Karen and I sat in the apartment. Alone.
"You okay?"
"I don't know." She stared at the ledger. "I spent ten years putting this together. Ten years of looking over my shoulder. Of being scared. And now..."
"Now what?"
"Now I don't know what to do. I never thought I'd get this far."
"Me neither."
She laughed. Sad. "What do we do now?"
"We live. We fight. We make sure they can never hurt anyone again."
"That's what I said."
"And it's still true."
She leaned against me. I put my arm around her.
"We'll get through this."
"I know."
"We will."
We sat there. Together. The ledger between us. The future uncertain.
But for the first time in days, I felt something like hope.
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The call came two days later.
Jake's friend in DC. He'd reviewed the evidence. He wanted to meet.
"Tomorrow. Noon. A diner off I-95."
"Can we trust him?"
"I don't know. But we don't have a choice."
We drove in silence. Jake. Karen. Me. The ledger in a briefcase between us.
The diner was the kind of place that had seen better days. Empty. Quiet.
A man was waiting in the back. Gray suit. Gray hair. Gray eyes.
"Jake."
"David."
They shook hands. David looked at me. At Karen.
"You're the DeLuca kids."
"We're not kids," Karen said.
"Fair enough." He gestured to the booth. "Sit. We have a lot to talk about."
We sat. David ordered coffee. No one else did.
"I've reviewed the evidence. It's compelling. Damning. If it's real."
"It's real," I said.
"I believe you. But belief isn't enough. We need more. Witnesses. Testimony."
"We have Sophie," Karen said.
"Your cousin? She's a minor player. We need bigger. Someone who can speak to the scope of the operation."
"Mom won't talk."
"No. But there are others." David leaned forward. "Ray. Danny. They're still out there. If we can find them, flip one of them—"
"They'll never flip. They're loyal."
"Everyone's loyal until they're facing twenty years." David sat back. "Give me time. I'll build a case. But you need to stay hidden. Both of you."
"What about our lives? Our jobs?"
"On hold. For now." He looked at me. "You were a chef, right?"
"I was."
"Good. Because we're going to need someone who can cook. You're going to be here for a while."
I looked at Karen. She looked at me.
"Where's here?"
David smiled. "Somewhere safe. Trust me."
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