The Whispering Room

Her heart skipped a beat as she walked toward the desk. “And why should I believe you this time?”

“You don’t have to believe me.” He lifted the lid from a cardboard crate on the table and removed a thick file folder, which he plopped down in front of her. “You can reach your own conclusions.”

Her gaze dropped to the folder. “What is this?”

“Your husband’s file. If you’re not convinced by the time you’ve reached the end, there’s more where that came from.”

When she made no move to open the folder, he said, “Go on. Take a look.” He grabbed a wooden chair and shoved it toward her. “Here,” he said. “You better sit. This could take a while.”

Reluctantly Evangeline pulled up the chair and sat down. She placed her hand on the folder, but for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to open it. She didn’t understand fully what was going on here, but she instinctively knew she wasn’t going to like what she found inside that file.

She glanced up. Nash had moved over by the door and was on his cell phone.

Again her gaze dropped to the folder. Open it.

Just get it over with.

She flipped it open and the first thing she saw was a picture of Johnny.

Her heart almost stopped.

There he was. Just the way she remembered him.

Her Johnny. The love of her life.

She drew a shaky breath as she made herself study the photo. The shot had been taken through a window using a telephone lens. Johnny was standing in an unfamiliar room conversing with another man that Evangeline recognized as Sonny Betts.

She looked up, saw that Nash was watching her, and she quickly glanced back down.

Johnny…and Sonny Betts?

No. No.

No.

Another photo had been shot poolside with Johnny, Betts and several other people Evangeline didn’t recognize. Drinks in hand, they were all laughing and smiling and totally oblivious to the camera.

By this time, Evangeline’s hands were shaking so badly she could barely pick up the photographs. There were dozens. Shots of Johnny with Betts, shots of Johnny with men she didn’t know, shots of Johnny in his car emerging from the parking garage where he’d been killed.

There were surveillance notes, too, all carefully stamped with the date and time. Some of the notes were nearly two years old.

Evangeline scrutinized every photo, read every note, scoured every report. And when she was finished, she closed the folder and sat for a moment, not trusting herself to speak.

“Do you want to see more?” Nash asked quietly. He left his spot by the door and came over to the table.

She shook her head. “I’ve seen enough for one day.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you really?” She didn’t know why her anger was still directed at Nash.

“Like I said, no one wanted it to come to this.”

Johnny’s betrayal was as heavy as an iron cloak on her shoulders. She felt small and beat down. “Who’s no one? Who else knows about this?”

“Apart from my team, a few people at NOPD.”

She closed her eyes. “Why wasn’t I told?”

“It’s a sensitive issue,” he said. “There’s still an ongoing investigation. I’m only telling you now because your questions were creating an uncomfortable situation.”

“Uncomfortable,” she repeated numbly.

“I really am sorry you had to find out—”

“How long?”

“How long—”

“How long was he working for Betts?”

“At least two years. He was already under surveillance when I took over the operation. He was probably approached when Betts returned from Houston and started building his network. Johnny and Nathan Mallet were both on the payroll.”

“That’s what I don’t understand. If Johnny was on the take, where did the money go? We didn’t lead a lavish lifestyle. Far from it. We barely made ends meet. The only reason I’ve got some breathing room now is because of his life-insurance policy.”

“He probably funneled everything into an offshore bank account. He was a smart guy. He knew the only way to avoid suspicion was to keep a low profile.”

And just what was he going to do with all that money? Evangeline wondered. Had she and the baby figured into his future plans at all?

“He wasn’t smart enough to keep himself alive, was he?” she said harshly. “What happened? Did he fall out of favor with Betts?”

“We think a rival syndicate took him out. A power play, most likely.”

“What about the woman he went to see?”

“She worked for Betts. She handled the money. I doubt there was a personal relationship between them. We never saw any evidence of it.”

“Well, that’s something I guess.” Evangeline pushed aside the folder and stood. “I’d like to leave now if you don’t mind.”

“I’ll drive you home.”

“Don’t take this personally,” she said. “But right now, you’re the last person I want to be with.”

That evening, Evangeline carried the baby monitor out to the front porch and sat down on the top step. She remembered sitting there the night before when all she had to worry about was a strange car in the neighborhood and whether or not to believe the outrageous story that Lena Saunders had told her.