Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

Her nostrils flare. Something dark gathers behind her eyes.
“You knew him?”
“Yes.”
I can’t take the look on her face, so I turn away, dragging a
hand through my hair.
“Max trusted him implicitly. He was brilliant with
numbers. Saved the organization a lot of money. Made us a lot,
too. The stock market, offshore accounts, international real
estate…Damon was a genius. So smart that nobody ever
noticed he’d been skimming. That he’d set up hundreds of
shell accounts to funnel money into. That he’d been planning
his way out for years before he finally fled.”
The clock ticking on the wall seems unnaturally loud.
When Nat stays silent, I turn back to her.
She’s a statue.
Cold. Lifeless. Blank. One of those marble sculptures that
decorate a tomb.
To deal with the agony clawing its way up my throat, I
keep talking.
“He made a deal with the feds. Gave them evidence in
return for immunity. Testified against Max at his trial.
Provided a huge amount of data, records, ledgers, files. Max
was convicted and sentenced to life. Damon went into witness
protection. The government gave him a new name. A new
identity. A new life. They relocated him here.”
I draw a breath. “And then he met you.”
Motionless, Natalie stares at me. When she speaks, she
sounds like she’s been drugged.
“I don’t believe you. David didn’t have a penny to his
name. This is lies.”
I pull my cell phone from my pocket, pull up the picture
app, swipe through until I find what I’m looking for. Then I
hand her the phone.