“I actually thought it was cumbersome,” interjected Devine. “It just seems like sending an email would be a lot more efficient.”
“I think I can shed some light on that,” said Nestor. “About twelve years ago Cowl came really, really close to being indicted by the Justice Department and the State of New York for some financial shenanigans. I mean huge fines, delicensing, and possible prison time. They got on to him by electronic eavesdropping. Phone, computer, associates’ electronics. He used his money and influence and a fleet of high-priced attorneys and calling in chits from political pals to get out of the jam, but—”
“—but it would make the man paranoid about relying on those types of communications again,” interjected Devine. “He actually mentioned to me something along the lines of what you just said. He told me for the important stuff, he always went analog.”
“And let me tell you something else. Anne Comely? I spent years trying to track her down. She doesn’t exist. I’m sure of it.”
“I watched an old interview where Cowl said she might just represent an idea or something like that,” said Devine.
“Well, maybe now we have our answer: It represents a criminal enterprise.” She eyed Devine over her coffee cup. “So, what will you do now?”
“Keep following the money. And anything we do find goes right to you for your exclusive. I want to make sure you come out of this with your career and good reputation back.”
“I appreciate that very much, Mr. Devine. But what about the murders? Do you think these two women found out what was going on and that’s why they were killed?”
“Ewes knew about the Locust Group. Stamos was her lover and was also sleeping with Cowl. He might have let something slip over pillow talk, and Ewes and later Stamos followed up on it. And they were both murdered, maybe as a result.”
“Financial crimes are one thing, killing people is totally something else.”
“I don’t think Cowl is calling the shots here, not really. I’ve run into some goons who decided my time on earth was up. Luckily, they were wrong. But it was strongly intimated that Cowl is not running this show.”
“If Brad Cowl is involved with the sorts of people it looks like he is, this will become even more dangerous,” said Nestor.
“I’m actually sort of counting on it,” said Devine.
CHAPTER
57
ON THE WAY BACK TO New York, Devine and Montgomery stopped and had lunch at a restaurant on the water. They sat at an outside table overlooking Long Island Sound. It wasn’t too hot; the breeze off the water was pleasant and refreshing and the views were lovely.
Still, Montgomery stared sulkily off before glancing at Devine.
“Doesn’t sitting here just make you want to chuck it?”
“Chuck what?” he asked.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Travis.”
He sat back and looked out to the water, where a sailboat was cutting through the waves. “Got to make a living. I’m not rich. I’m not even well-off enough to take a vacation.”
“I’ve got my portfolio.”
“Then you can chuck it, Michelle.”
“Not that much fun alone. You could come along for the ride.”
“There are about a million other guys who’d be a lot better for you than me.”
“And I can’t make that decision for myself?”
“Yes, but I also have to make that decision for myself.”
She hiked her eyebrows. “And you have no interest?”
“I think you know that I do. But I’ve got baggage that you don’t need to deal with.”
“And you think I don’t?”
“And you don’t believe that’ll be a red flag for them to hunt us down if we suddenly disappear together?”
“I suppose it would be.” She studied him closely. “Why are you really at Cowl, Travis? You don’t strike me as a person interested in that world at all.”
He started to tell her the standard line, but then he decided to be more candid. His conversation with Campbell had made him reevaluate things. And Montgomery had stuck her neck out for him. She deserved something close to the truth.
“I left the Army under a sort of cloud. It messed with my head. My old man always wanted me to go for the money, so I decided to do what he wanted.”
“Even though you really didn’t want to?”
“I guess it was a form of self-punishment. Force myself to do what I hate.”