Page 236 of The Billion Heirs Boxed Set
“You should have let Agent Jarvis finish,” I say. “The federal government can seek the death penalty in the murder of a state or local law enforcement official or other person aiding in a federal investigation.”
Though we’ve yet to determine whether Joseph Hopkins was aiding in an investigation, my gut tells me he was ready to turn evidence. It won’t hurt to let Chubb think he could face capital punishment—even though it’s unlikely.
A guard knocks and then opens the door. “Public defender’s here,” he says.
A young woman dressed in black pants and a white shirt enters carrying a laptop. “I’m Joycelyn Akers.”
Jarvis stands and holds out his hand. “Special Agent Roy Jarvis. This is Special Agent Avery Marsh, and this is your client, Eugene Chubb.”
Akers takes a seat next to Chubb. “If you two will excuse us for a moment, I’d like to confer with my client in private.”
“Of course.” I rise and gather my things.
Jarvis grabs his laptop and we leave the room.
“What do you think?” Jarvis asks as we walk down the hallway.
“He knows a lot more than he’s letting on, for sure,” I say. “I want to know why that body ended up on Bridger land. From what I know about Jonathan Bridger, he’s not stupid enough to have someone killed and then tossed on his own property.”
To the contrary. Jonathan Bridger was shrewdly intelligent. And evil. I knew that personally. He fucked up my life plenty. If he were alive, I’d—
I don’t know what I’d do, but keeping me from Chance was brutal.
Jarvis nods. “I agree. There’s something we’re missing here.”
“We can check in with the EPA investigators, see what they’ve found. If that whistleblower is still talking.”
Jarvis sighs. “Didn’t you hear?”
I frown and slow. “Hear what?”
He stops beside me, faces me. “A memo came in earlier. The poor guy was found early this morning, toes up in his bathtub.”
Dead?
Early this morning. When I was in my motel room with Chance.
“Then Chubb had better talk,” I say, “because our links to Bridger and Racehorse Hauling are rapidly disappearing.”
We head to an open work area to wait. Jarvis leaves to get us a couple bottles of water and returns. I open mine and take a long sip, letting the liquid cool my parched throat. What a fucking day.
When my water is nearly drained, Ms. Akers approaches. “Mr. Chubb is ready to talk,” she says.
I glance to Jarvis. “This should be interesting,” I murmur.
Returning to the interrogation room, we take our places across from Chubb and the attorney to hear what he has to say.
16
CHANCE
Unreal.
Fucking unreal.
The Journal of Business Ethics is hooked by a simple string to a gate latch on the other side. So simple…and I never knew it was here.
How could I? I never come in here.
