“Need more?” He stacked a third file on the pile. “Richard Kellerman, pediatrician accused of molesting his patients. Children. He drowned in the Potomac even though he hated water and didn’t have a boat.” Rob reached into his bag and brought out the files he previously shoved away. “Amos Prince, another doctor accused of molestation, but this one by his daughters.”

The facts made Gabby sick. “I can’t—”

“Leonard Waters. Kane Long. Bart Thomas. Are you seeing the pattern?”

The long list of names sounded compelling. Again, not evidence of a conspiracy, but she was tempted to sort through those files and see what he and Tami had compiled.

Still, one of them had to be rational and it looked like she’d won that prize. “People die, Rob. Accidents are horrible, but they happen.”

“Do you think I want to believe this? I have lost everything. Don’t you get that?” His voice rose until a few people in the coffee shop glanced his way. He ignored the stares but lowered his voice. “I sat with her, watched her while machines pumped air into her broken body. Argued with the doctors for more time, but I wasn’t officially family. Not yet. I didn’t get to make the decision to give up on her.”

Gabby ached for him. For Tami. But she tried to separate out that empathy and heartache from reality. “Is it possible . . . Could you be too close to this?”

“Maybe. Probably.” He exhaled. “But what choice do I have? This was Tami’s legacy. If I’m right, she literally gave her life to find out the truth. I owe it to her to follow this to the end.”

The haunting sound of his voice pulled at Gabby. “Even though you lost your job and your reputation?”

“Tami was worth more than all of that.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Gabby skimmed her fingertips over the file in front of her, wanting both to open it and to walk away. Not knowing gave her an odd sort of power. It shielded her, let her wallow in possible ignorance and not take a stand. She could pretend to be noble without ever risking a failed test.

Rob’s voice cut across the quiet stretching between them. “These men, by paying hush money or falling back on their positions, got away with the unthinkable. They weren’t held accountable by the legal system. In the age of supposed cancel culture, they didn’t lose anything in the way of reputation or serious cash. Then they died.”

After a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching this little scene, she tried to reason with him. “Say you’re right. Say someone is taking the law into their own hands and deciding judgment, why assume it’s a group?”