“Wouldn’t it have to be? This type of concerted effort would take serious planning as well as access to forensics, weapons. They would need the connections. People who would look the other way. Brains and money. Even more important, they’d need the will and ability to tamper with evidence and make it disappear. Mess with cars and drugs. Create or destroy forensics.”

“That’s daunting.” Impossible, really. She tried to think of even bigger words to describe the unlikelihood of that sort of massive covert undertaking.

“But a certain type of crowd does have access to all those things.” He tapped one final file: a thick one that he placed on top of the others. “Here are copies of all of Tami’s notes. It shows how she put the pieces together and why she discounted some deaths as actual accidents or suicides and not others.”

Okay, that didn’t sound completely irrational, which scared her a bit. “But why was Baines on this covert group’s hit list?”

He shrugged. “I think you’d know the answer to that better than I would.”

Secrets. The word flashed in her mind, and she concentrated on blinking it away. “Who would do this? The risk is huge, both in getting caught and in having someone else from the group talk. There are too many variables, and people have too little discipline for this to actually work.”

She talked herself into a maybe then right back out again. In her experience, secrets like this leaked out. People couldn’t sit on volatile information . . . except maybe her. But the idea that a group of people, all working in tandem, would be able to keep the ruse up, keep killing, and no one would talk or mess up? Nope. Humans didn’t work like that.

“I thought that, too.” Rob leaned forward. “Then I started digging. There are names that show up more than once in these cases. Prosecutors. Police. Judges. Lawyers.”

“Yeah, now I know you’re wrong. I went to law school. I know lawyers. You’re talking about a competitive crowd that craves the spotlight. They’d never pull off secretive and trusting, even in a small group. They’d be too busy fighting to take credit.” Which was one of the reasons she got the degree then never used it. A legal career wasn’t for her, not after she saw what some of her classmates were willing to do to succeed.

“Do you know who Judge Loretta Swain is?” he asked.

Everybody did. The woman was a legend. The first Black woman on the state’s highest court. A millionaire who chose public service. She’d taught at Gabby’s law school. Students fought to be in her class then tripped over one another trying to impress her.

“You’re saying she’s involved?” Gabby used her best you’ve lost it tone.