Chapter 9: The Last Thing Javier Said
The complaint was filed on a Thursday morning.
By Thursday afternoon, Calloway had been placed on administrative suspension pending a federal review.
By Thursday evening, two investigators from the federal financial crimes unit had made contact with Holt's office and requested a meeting for the following morning.
Dante learned all of this through Holt, in a series of short phone calls, while sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee that had gone cold.
Mia came in and sat across from him.
"Holt called me too."
"I know."
"He said Calloway is already cooperating.
Trying to reduce his exposure." She folded her hands on the table.
"He's giving them Javier."
Dante nodded.
"Is that good or bad for us?"
"It's good," Dante said.
"It means we don't have to be the ones who hand him over.
The federal case builds itself from Calloway's testimony.
Our complaint is the foundation, but we step back."
Mia was quiet for a moment.
"And Javier doesn't know yet."
"No."
"When will he find out?"
"Soon."
---
He found out on Friday.
Dante knew because Javier called him.
Not through an intermediary.
Directly.
Dante's personal number, which Javier had not used in over a year.
Dante answered.
"You went to the authorities." Javier's voice was flat.
Not angry.
Flat in the way that meant the anger was underneath and being held down by force.
"I went to a lawyer," Dante said.
"The authorities came to us."
"You know what this does.
You know what this opens up."
"I know what it closes."
A pause.
"I still have things you don't want in the wrong hands.
Documents you haven't found.
Photographs you don't know about."
"Then use them," Dante said.
"File them.
Send them wherever you planned to send them." He paused.
"Holt has already submitted the forensic report on the signatures.
Whatever you file, it files against a documented forgery.
The examiner's report is already in federal hands." Another pause.
"You built the case on paper, Javier.
The paper doesn't hold."
Silence on the line.
"You should have stayed in your lane," Javier said.
His voice had changed.
Something in it had gone out.
"You were supposed to be finished."
"I know," Dante said.
"That's the part you got wrong."
He ended the call.
---
Leo was in the doorway.
He had heard the last part.
"Is it over?" he asked.
"The part we control is over." Dante set the phone on the table.
"The rest is Holt's."
Leo came into the kitchen and sat down in the chair Mia had been in.
He looked at his father — really looked at him, the way he hadn't since the barbecue, since the lawn, since the moment when everything had cracked open.
"Dad.
At the barbecue.
When Javier swung at you." He stopped.
"Were you scared?"
Dante considered the question seriously.
"No."
"What were you?"
"Sad," Dante said.
"He was with us for two years.
He sat at this table." He looked at the table surface.
"I was sad that it had become that."
Leo was quiet.
"And then I was angry," Dante said.
"But that came later."
Leo nodded slowly.
He looked like he was putting something down that he'd been carrying since Thursday.
"He's not going to walk away from this," Leo said.
May you like
"No," Dante said.
"He's not."
