I watched her closely, looking for any sign of a trap.

“He thinks he’s going to win,” I said.

Kayla let out a bitter laugh.

“He’s convinced he’s safe. He keeps saying his pre-marital home is protected, and that your signature on the initial divorce papers protects him from any claim on the estate.”

“He really believes that,” I murmured.

“He’s arrogant,” she said. “But his lawyer told him that if the text messages about him hiding the money before the death get out, it’s over.”

She reached into her purse and pulled out a thumb drive, placing it on the table between us.

Her hand stayed over it, her fingers pressing down on the plastic casing.

“Everything is on here,” she said. “Two years of text messages, emails, and bank routing numbers he sent me.”

“What do you want for it?” I asked.

“Ten percent of whatever you get from him,” she said. “And a signed agreement that your lawyers won’t name me in the fraud lawsuit.”

I looked at the black plastic drive.

“I can’t make that deal on my own,” I said. “I have to involve Jerome.”