"The night Vinnie confessed it all to me, Leslie had been out. But at some point while we were talking, she came home. I never knew when, never knew what she'd heard. But I always found it odd that I hadn't heard her come in. Later, she told me we looked like we were in a serious conversation and she didn't want to interrupt. I believed her, of course. Why wouldn't I? But when it all happened, and that FBI agent kept asking me who I'd told... I wondered."

"Why didn't you tell him?" Brady asked.

She shrugged. "I didn't know for sure. And even if Leslie had heard, why would she tell Charles or any of them anything?"

Sam spoke for the first time since they'd sat. "But now, you think maybe your sister told your fiancé's boss what she overheard? Why would she do that?"

Marisa sighed. "I can only guess. She liked Vinnie okay, but she didn't want me to marry him. I was really young, and we only had each other at that point, and I think she was jealous. And it didn't matter how much money Vinnie made, Leslie thought I could do better."

Rae looked up from her notebook. "You think maybe your sister told Charles what was going on to... What? Break you two up?"

Marisa shrugged. "It's just a theory. Maybe somebody else did it."

"Did Vinnie tell anybody?" Brady asked.

"No. He was adamant that neither of us could tell. He was terrified Charles would find out before he had a chance to meet with the FBI guy."

"If you didn't tell, and Vinnie didn't, then either the leak came from the FBI"—Brady's expression told them what he thought of that theory—"or your sister told someone."

Sam reached across the table and laid her hand on Marisa's. "If she did it, I'm sure she had your best interests at heart. And I know you don't wish her ill."

Marisa teared up again and nodded.

"Okay," Brady said. "Go on."

"And then Vinnie was murdered." Silence settled on the room at the word. She let a beat pass. "Then I went to Nate."

Brady glanced at Nate. "Why him?"

"He used to ride the same bus as I did. I recognized him from his picture in the paper."

"At the Times?" Brady asked.

Nate shook his head. "I was working in Queens. I wrote a column occasionally on the financial market, and they ran my photo above the column."

"Oh." Brady turned back to Marisa. "You picked him because you recognized him."

"And because of the finance column. Seemed he'd understand what G&K was up to. I sat next to him on the bus the next day and told him I had a story, but I needed help. I gave him the gist of it, and he put me up in a hotel. He hid me. I thought they would try to kill me, since they killed Vinnie."