“Diego’s hacker friend just sent an encrypted file.”
Both Rico and I go to stand beside him to look at the files. The first file shows a much younger Phil in a military uniform. “Phil was in the service? He never told me.”
Kade skims quickly. “Army intelligence officer. Good computer skills for his time. Purple heart. Medal of honor.Retired after twelve. Returned to his hometown of Vegas. Never married.”
“Does it say about him being sick? What’s wrong with him?”
“Not yet.”
Rico moves up behind me and wraps his arms around me as we watch Kade scroll.
“Your mother died eleven months ago, right?”
“Yes.”
Kade starts switching back and forth between two different files. Finally, he pauses and turns to face us. “This is me skimming and until we can get access to his computer we won’t know if my guesses are even close.
“The hacker said Phil’s search patterns took a drastic change about eleven months ago. That would have been right after your mom died.
“He was on and off the dark net, researching his boss, DeStefano and Adorno and their businesses. Collecting intel.
“Five months ago, our office started getting anonymous tips. They stopped for a month but restarted with entries almost daily after that. Once the office verified the info as much as they could, Rico and I were assigned.
“If I’m reading everything correctly, that month with no contact is when Phil went to the doctor and found out he had advanced stomach cancer. There was no cure for him, only medication to ease the pain.”
“That could have affected his speech and made him sound drunk. Good cover.” Rico says thoughtfully.
“I’m speculating that’s why he started pushing our department to act,” Kade says. “He knew he was running out of time to bring Adorno down for the murder of your mom. He wanted it done or at least on the way before he died.”
Kade pauses and looks up at Rico before dropping his gaze back to me. “After your mom died, do you remember signing some papers for Phil?”
“He—he offered to identify the body. He didn’t want me to remember her that way. I signed some papers for that and to have her cremated.”
“Did Phil tell you one of the papers was for an autopsy?”
“No. I—Mom didn’t leave any money. I couldn’t have afforded that.”
“He did. Your mom showed a high level of drugs in her system. Drugs laced with fentanyl.”
“No! No, Mom never did drugs. She drank, but no drugs.”
“That information was in the anonymous files he sent to our office.”
“That’s why he spilled a couple of my drinks,” Rico says. “He must have known somehow that there was something in the drink. He told me I’d get better quality if I ordered while at the bar.”
“There are two bartenders on staff at the casino that are tight with management and the bouncers,” I cut in. “Phil told me to never take a drink from them. Ever. Not even water. Actually, he insisted that I bring my own drinks from home.”
“He’d bought and paid for your mother’s house years ago. He didn’t realize she’d taken a second mortgage against it. He paid that off and signed the title over to you so you’d always have a home,” Kade continues.
“Why didn’t he tell me? Tell me everything he’d learned? What he’d done for Mom? That he was sick?” I push away from Rico and go to the window to stare down at the alley.
It was him. It was always him watching out for her for me. Not her richy rich important boyfriends who she claimed did so much for her.
She wouldn’t see Phil for months, then she’d be calling him up inviting him over for dinner and a few nights of fucking. Then she’d have a new car, or wardrobe, and no more time for him. I knew it hurt him. The last few years there was no hope left in his eyes. He’d resigned himself that her on and off again was all he’d ever have.
Still, he came every damn time, because he loved her.
How could I not know he was dying? I saw he’d lost some weight and looked more tired, but he always blew it off that it was just work.
