Chapter 14: The Alliance
249 words
A black widow. The words hung in the stale air of Miller's apartment.
He handed me a bowl of instant soup. I ate it like a starving animal, the warmth spreading through my chest. For the first time in weeks, I wasn't shivering.
"We have a problem," Miller said, pacing the small room. "You have the emails. I have the history. But neither is a smoking gun for murder. Just fraud."
"Fraud puts her in prison," I said, wiping my mouth.
"For a few years," Miller countered. "She has the best lawyers money can buy. She'll plead it down, pay a fine, and retire to the Caymans with your millions. We need to nail her for everything."
He pinned a photo of Gary Sloan to a corkboard on the wall.
"I have a safe house you can use. But you have to stay dead, Linda. Not just hiding. Dead."
I looked at the Witness Protection pamphlet on his desk—a relic from his police days. He was suggesting something outside the law.
"If we miss," he warned, leaning in close, his eyes hard, "you go to jail for insurance fraud. Faking your death is a felony. The prosecutor will offer you a Plea Deal just to close the book, and she walks free while you rot in a cell."
I looked at the file of her first husband. I saw Mark's face in his.
"I don't care about the jail time," I whispered. "I want her to lose everything."
End of Chapter 14
