Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
Derek debated making a quick detour to strangle Reese first, but decided he really wanted to get this Delco case indicted before he was jailed for murder.
Once his blood had redistributed to his brain from his cock, Derek had known almost immediately Reese was following him.
But after two efforts to lose her, where she had displayed a frightening ability to weave in and out of high-speed traffic, he had decided it was better just to let her follow him.
The woman was nuts enough to get herself plowed over by a semi trying to keep up with him, and he really didn’t like the idea of her flat as a pancake on the highway.
If she stayed in her car, parked three spots away, everything would be fine. Reese was reckless, but she wasn’t stupid. She would know to stay out of sight.
“Hi, Stan,” Derek said when he had closed the car door and looked over at his CW.
“Hey. Hey there, Derek. How are you?”
Derek took the opening, studying Stan. The man looked as he always did—thin, pale, dressed in an expensive suit, his glasses slipping a little down his nose. He fidgeted, as was his usual custom, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel, a thin sheen of sweat on his upper lip.
“Well, Stan, I’m not so great. My boss is getting antsy. You’ve been helping us out for months, now, and that’s great, but the anti-trust lawyers say we don’t have enough.”
Markson sputtered. “But I gave you everything! I risked getting caught and gave you all the patents, all the agreements, all the numbers. I have emails from Chatterton. I’ve risked my job. I have a wife and two kids, Derek. What more do you guys want?”
Derek tried to soothe him. “I know, I know. And you’ve done great. But it’s still your word, and your word won’t hold up in court. We need recordings, Stan.”
Stan’s eyes darted around nervously. “I can’t do that. I just can’t. These are my coworkers.”
“Who are doing something illegal, that affects hundreds of thousands of people every day by charging them more for drugs than they should be paying.” Derek kept his voice low, calm, not wanting to spook Stan.
“Explain to me again why you need recordings.”
Derek tried not to sigh. They had been over this dozens of times. Leaning against the car door, he settled in for a long, persuasive chat with his cooperating witness who wasn’t being very cooperative these days.