He shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe what she’d said. “You can handle the mob? Will you take two minutes to listen to yourself? Do you have any idea how stupid you sound right now?”

“I’m stupid because I don’t agree with you?” She was rapidly coming to the point where she wouldn’t care that they were hashing things out in public. Why was he talking to her like this? She’d done nothing to deserve it. She’d held up every single end of her bargain.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then maybe you need to say something, Remy, because I don’t understand what’s going on here. I don’t understand why my temporary lover is messing around with something that’s far better left alone. It’s been weeks. I’m fine. I have a job now. No one’s going after Vallon except you. You’re the one who’s going to get me in trouble.”

He stared at her for a moment. “I can’t figure out if you’re honestly this naïve or if you simply don’t care.”

She resented the implications on both sides. “I do care, but what am I supposed to do if the federal prosecutor won’t do it? What do you want, Remy? You want me to play the vigilante and go to the press with the account numbers I remember? Maia told you they don’t mean much if no one believes I can remember them. They’re to Cayman accounts. They’re only meaningful to the people who own the accounts or if I can corroborate them with the book. Good luck with that. And I’m not naïve. I know what’s going on and I also know there’s not much I can do. I think you’re paranoid. It is far smarter for whoever Vallon was working with to sit still and be patient. If someone shoots me, the cops will notice.”

“And if the cops are in on it?” Remy asked.

Now he sounded like Bridget. She set her towel down and lowered her voice because it looked like their last customer of the night was heading to the bathroom. He passed behind Remy, whose back was to him. It was likely a good thing because Remy had a hard look in his eyes that might scare off anyone who didn’t know him.