“What does that mean?”
“He thinks you’re Dudley.” She was prepared for almost any reaction except for the one she got. His shout of laughter rocked her back on her heels.
“Let me see,” he said when he could talk.
She fished her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans, brought up last night’s text, and held it up for him to see.
“I’ll be darned.” His slanted smile filled the lower half of his face. “Sometimes it’s good to be a blockhead.”
“You’re not—” She stopped because he put up a hand.
“It’s all right, Ramsey. You don’t have to explain. I googled him and watched a video. I even understand why you thought of him when you met me, and I suppose why you think of him still. Hard not to when I was just reminding you that fraud and fleeing, obstruction and conspiracy are all crimes.”
She looked down again, toed the wad of gum with her shoe. It was stuck fast. “I needed to hear it.”
“Maybe. I figure you told me because you wanted to do the right thing and needed some backup.”
“So no lasso of truth.”
“Nope.” He gave the box of bulbs he was holding a little toss. “I’m going to buy these and head back to the station. I’ll talk to the chief about what you told me and we’ll go from there.”
She nodded. “I’m still going to talk to Mr. Finch this afternoon.”
“Your money guy.”
“I believe he prefers financial advisor, but yes, my money guy.”
Sullivan chuckled. “All right. You do that. But hold off writing a check.”
“Neanderthal. It’ll be an electronic transfer. Jay gave me the account information.”
“Is it a bank here? Not specifically here, but in the US?”
“It’s numbers. I don’t know. I have it right here.” She patted the back pocket holding her phone. “Do you want it?”
“Yeah. I should be able to find the bank that way.”
Ramsey pulled out her phone, scrolled to the app where she kept passwords and confidential information, and copied Jay’s number. She pasted it in a text and sent it to Sullivan. A few seconds later his phone pinged, alerting him to the arrival.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Mm. It’s going to get out, isn’t it? About the lottery, I mean.”
Sullivan didn’t pull any punches. “Probably.” He saw her wince. “You know that buying off Jay was no guarantee that he’d stay silent.”
“I know,” she said quietly. “But I guess I hoped that he’d see it was in his best interest to keep my secret. If he gives me up, then he has no leverage the next time he wants money. And there will be a next time, no matter what he promises now. Going public about my lottery win is pretty much leading his cash cow to the slaughterhouse.”
“Cash cow.” A slim smile flickered across Sullivan’s face. “I was thinking it’d be more like killing the goose that lays the golden eggs, but cash cow works too.”
Ramsey nudged him in his middle with her fist. “Don’t make me laugh. I don’t want to laugh.”
He covered her fist with a hand, held it against him, and squeezed. “It’s going to be all right. I swear.”
She searched his face, held the steadiness of his blue-gray gaze. Not steely. Not smoky. Something in between. Winter mist rising over water. His eyes held his promise. “God help me,” she whispered. “I believe you.”
Sullivan removed his hand and her lightly clenched fist fell away. “Then God helpme.”
38
