“Okay,” Nari murmured. “But right now he has your daughter, and we want to help her. Please, trust us. What’s in the journal?”

Sean shut the file folder and set it down on the desk, flattening his hand over it. He was quiet for a moment, obviously working things out in his head. Finally, he spoke. “When I got out, I had to take leverage with me. Otherwise they would’ve hunted me down, friends or not.”

Raider breathed out, not wanting to spook the guy. Was he finally going to spill?

Sean sighed. “In the journal, I have records of transactions with certain officials, some high up by now, as well as carefully detailed records of crimes that don’t have statutes of limitations.”

In other words, homicides. Raider kept his gaze stoic. “Just records? Why is Eddie so consumed by this?”

Sean smiled. “Well, the journal isn’t all. I have recordings, pictures, and even a couple of documents.”

Raider mulled over the facts. “Why come after you now? I mean, Brigid or your wife could’ve been used for leverage at any point through the years. I understand that Patrick Coonan is dead, and Eddie has taken over, but that information has been safely in your hands for decades.”

“Pat was my friend,” Sean said simply. “The leverage gave me freedom and him a way to save face and let me out of the organization. We were brothers, although we’d gone down different paths. He knew I wouldn’t betray him, and I knew he didn’t want me dead.” He focused on the pretty shrink. “It probably doesn’t make sense to you, especially since we bonded in crime, but there was still loyalty between us.”

It did make sense to Raider. Loyalty mattered. Period. “Eddie shares no such loyalty.”

“Nah. Eddie has always been over-the-top paranoid, and having information like that out there probably keeps him up at night,” Sean admitted. “Plus, I’m getting up there in years, and he’s probably afraid of what will happen to the information if I pass on. Jackass doesn’t realize I have a good forty years in me yet.”

Reaching a hundred years old wasn’t impossible. “Where’s the journal and box of evidence?” Raider asked, trying to profile the man. Where in the world would he hide something like that for decades?

“Buried in a cemetery right outside of Boston,” Sean admitted. “I didn’t have a backup plan in case Pat Coonan took me out, because I knew he wouldn’t. So I secured the box and forgot about it to live my new life.”

Was the evidence even safe? Sitting in the ground for decades didn’t sound like an ideal situation. “You know that whatever we find will implicate you as well,” Raider warned. Not that he cared. Brigid’s safety took precedence over everything else.

Sean shrugged. “Good luck.”