“When would be a good time, big brother? When’s a good time to learn the woman you love was using you? I need another drink.”
He could already feel a warm buzz. His brother had added a little more than a pinch of vodka, but he was okay with it. If he’d ever needed a little liquid amnesia, it was now.
Nick appeared with another glass and Jackson startled. “Shit, you move fast. Or I’m more drunk than I thought.”
“I already had it ready. I know the drill.”
Jackson took a deep swallow. “Yeah, you do. You helped me numb out after Cynthia died. What is it about me that makes the women I love want to hurt me, Nick?”
“Is this really the best idea? Do you have to get him drunk?” Eli muttered.
“You have a better idea?” Nick took a deep swallow of his own drink.
“Jack, don’t do this to yourself.” Eli took the glass out of his hand and finished it for him.
“Cynthia wanted to leave me. Did you know that? We fought that night.” Jackson fell back against the arm of the couch with a groan. “I told her to go. Pushed her out the door into the rain. I didn’t protect her.”
“Jackson. Her accident was not your fault. It was nobody’s fault,” Eli said. There was no mistaking the pity in his brother’s voice. It was there in both of their eyes. The condemnation.
“Just tell me, Eli. I need to know. Maybe it’ll make it hurt less.”
“All right. The FBI has pending case files for four other women that they suspect were helping David Finemore in a range of fraud schemes.” He held up the papers in his hand. “These are just a few of the names I found. Our boy was busy. But I noticed something interesting about his credit history.”
“More interesting than wire fraud and just being an all-around douchebag?” Nick asked.
Jackson snorted.
“Yeah. According to David’s driver’s license, he’s twenty-nine. So he should have a good decade of credit history. But he doesn’t. There’s a period three years ago where he had no activity at all for about six months. I have a theory as to why.”
His cell phone rang and he pulled it out and looked at the screen. “Hold on. I have to take this.”
Jackson blinked several times. He was starting to feel numb and wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Really? No, no, that’s good. Send it over.” Elliott hung up.
“Who was that?” Nick asked.
Elliott ran a hand over his face. “I had one of my guys check even further back into David’s history. I had a hunch and it looks like I was right.”
“What did he find?” Jackson asked dispiritedly. It was taking everything within him to act as though he cared. Truthfully, he just wanted them to leave him alone in his misery.
It didn’t really matter to him how David had committed his crimes. Ridley had gotten hooked up with him and it had ruined her life. Now his life. But there was nothing he could do about it. He eyed the empty glass on the coffee table.
Eli pulled out his laptop and powered it up. A few clicks later, he sat back on the couch. “See for yourself. He just sent it to me.”
Nick got up and stood behind the couch. “Who is that on the left?”
“That’s the real David Finemore.” He turned the laptop around so Jackson could see. Two pictures were displayed. They both looked like driver’s license photos.
“The one on the left is from two license renewals ago. We usually only pull what the Division of Motor Vehicles keeps on file. But my guy went further back and pulled some of the old pictures.”
“Son of a bitch,” Nick whispered.
“He was using an assumed identity. He probably got away with it because the original David Finemore was a lot heavier than he was. The clerk at the DMV probably just thought he looked slightly different in the face due to weight loss.”
“How is it possible that the FBI didn’t know who he was?” Nick asked. “With all the technology they have access to, between their databases and their facial recognition software, they have to know his real identity.”
“It’s possible he had surgery to alter his face, but I’m inclined to agree with you. I think they know his real identity and they just don’t want to tip off his accomplices. I think they’re trying to build their case against all the people who helped him.”
Elliott looked over at Jackson. “Including Ridley.”
* * *
“You weren’t happy with destroying just one Alexander, huh?”
Raina threw her purse down on the sofa in her hotel suite. Nick seemed to have an internal radar for when she was feeling her weakest. He always seemed to call when she was least equipped to deal with hearing his voice.
“Hello, Nick. Lovely of you to call. Who have I supposedly destroyed now?”
Sam hovered just behind her. He nodded at the phone and she shrugged.
“You’re really going to pretend you had no idea your sister was fleecing my brother?”
“What?”
“Ridley stole fifty thousand dollars from Jackson. Wired it right out of his account and into hers.”
Raina stilled. Sam must have sensed it because he moved closer.
“I don’t believe you. Ridley would never steal from anyone.”