Nick shifted in his seat on the porch, setting his beer down. "I've been thinking about this for a few days and I wasn't really sure how to bring it up so I thought I'd just wing it."

"Okay." I hoped he didn't have anything bad to say. I'd had a really good day and I didn't want anything to dampen my good mood.

"How comfortable are you with testifying against Derek?" Nick asked with an unsure look, tapping his fingers on his thigh.

"Testifying against Derek?" I repeated, eyes widening.

Of all the things Nick could have to talk to me about, this one was at the bottom of my list as far as conversations I wanted to have went. Somewhere in the back of my mind I'd known it was going to come up sooner or later, but I'd been counting on the FBI having enough evidence that they wouldn't need any witnesses. The last thing I wanted to do was see Derek again, much less testify against him. 

"Yeah," he nodded hesitantly. He probably expected me to say no, which was what I was leaning towards.

I sighed, feeling overwhelmed. "Nick, I don't know..."

"If you consider it, I'll consider taking you to the beach house next month," he said.

He knew that would get my attention, even if he was bribing me. For the past two weeks we'd been talking a lot about his family, and part of the conversations had been about the Granger family vacation home in North Carolina. Nick had told me about the boats his family owned and the one he used to sail all the time when he was younger. He said it needed to be fixed up but he wanted to take it out on the ocean again at some point. I was deathly afraid of deep water because I've never been a good swimmer, but I was willing to ignore that pesky little issue when Nick suggested possibly going to Washington, D.C. to meet some of his family, and then taking a short summer vacation to North Carolina.

It had been ages since I'd had a vacation. The last time I'd gone out of town for something other than work was two years before when Monica and I had gone to Nashville, Tennessee on a road trip.

"Tempting," I said, sipping my drink. "I'll think about it. Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Actually," he began, slouching back and crossing his ankles. "After we left the courthouse, I went to the field office."

"And?" The suspense was killing me.

"And I trust you not to mention to anyone that a warrant is being issued tomorrow for Derek," he told me with a smirk.

I stared at Nick wide-eyed, blinking a few times to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Derek was finally going to be arrested? It felt like I'd been waiting forever to hear those words.

"Are you serious?"

"I am."

I felt like I could burst into excited laughter any second.

"Don't get too happy yet," he sighed. "It's going to be a long, frustrating road to indictment."

"But you have all the evidence right?" I asked.

I knew that an indictment would only establish whether or not there is enough evidence to charge Derek with the crime. Once it was determined that there was enough evidence, Derek would then be tried and hopefully convicted by a judge or jury in a criminal trial. That would be the part to take the longest, mostly due to the defense stalling.

"I have enough, I believe," Nick answered, taking a swig of his beer. "The problem is everyone's ready to proceed even though I think I made it clear that I don't have all the information I want to get before they pursue an indictment. I still haven't figured out who the hell is doctoring the books for Derek. There's someone else in on this and it's not Christine. Once that person hears about the proceedings, they're going to try to cover their tracks and I might not be able to catch the bastard. Or bitch. Whoever."

Nick had a good point. If I was in charge of this case, I'd wait for Nick to get the rest of the evidence so there was no chance of Derek's accomplices getting away with it. I thought it was common sense that you shouldn't let the enemy know your plans, but here was the United States Attorney for the Northern District of Illinois about to tell Derek's buddies that they had a target on their backs. It seemed stupid to give them a chance to get away.

"Do you have any leads on who could be working with him?" I asked.

Nick shrugged. "Some. But most of Derek's files I can't access without some special code."

"A password? His passwords are easy to guess," I frowned, assuming the FBI could easily hack in. "He doesn't even have one for accessing his computer."

He shook his head. "It's encrypted. I can't get in."

I groaned. I could feel a headache beginning at the thought of it. "Unbelievable."

My mind was a mix of emotions, psyched that Derek was going to be arrested, but pissed about the rest of the ordeal. I still couldn't believe I'd spent three fucking years with him. I couldn't believe he'd had me so fooled into thinking he was such a great guy.

"Does this mean your undercover days at the firm are over?" I asked. I figured Nick wouldn't be at Hampton, Burns and Hampton anymore once Derek was arrested.

"I hope not," he answered. "If I can stay there another few weeks, I can figure out who else is involved, but I need to keep my cover for that. I need to crack those encrypted files. That has to be where he's hiding the last bit of information I need. I guess I'll see if I can get a warrant."

I reached over and placed my hand on Nick's thigh with a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry."

He yawned, getting up and going in the house, leaving me alone with my thoughts on the porch. For a few minutes, I entertained the idea of leaving Chicago, maybe for good. I loved the city, but after everything that had happened and was about to happen, it was tainted, and I hated living anywhere where I had bad memories. Derek was a really bad memory. I started thinking about different places I could move to and start over. New York City always caught my interest. Denver sounded like a nice city and I loved the idea of living in the mountains. I'd been to Seattle once and thought it was one of the most beautiful cities I'd been to. I loved the rain so that seemed like another good option. I didn't know where I was going to find enough money to make a cross country move but I liked the idea of leaving.

Then another idea crossed my mind. Nick was going to be transferred to another city after this case was over. What if I went with him and moved to that new city? I didn't know how he would feel about that and it did seem a bit unrealistic, given the short amount of time we'd been dating, but it was a thought. It was something to consider.

Leaving Chicago was pretty much the only thing on my mind the next morning while I watched on live local television as Derek was escorted in handcuffs out of the skyscraper that Hampton, Burns and Hampton called home. The channel five news team was all too enthusiastic about being first on the scene to break such a major story to the public. I couldn't get a good look at Derek due to the multitude of police and other people walking around, blocking the camera's shot. From what I could tell, he looked like hell, and I was sure he felt like it too.

"This is awesome," Monica said beside me as she poured another cup of coffee.

We'd been sitting in the break room at our office for twenty minutes watching the story unfold on the tiny TV screen bolted to the wall. I recognized the reporter, Jamie Hollis, a tall blonde with bright red lipstick. She was rarely on the news unless a big story was breaking. I had mixed feelings about what was going on. On one hand I was amused by the news stations filming Derek's arrest, adding to his embarrassment and humiliation. On the other, I hated that his accomplices were being given a very public heads up to cover their trails and run. I wanted Nick to hurry up and find out who was helping Derek.

"It is nice to see him getting what he deserves," I shrugged, leaving the room, tired of hearing Jamie's voice and all the people yelling behind her.

I decided to take the rest of the day off, having lost my appetite for work after seeing the news. As I was gathering my things to leave the office, I remembered the night Nick had said he wanted to have a relationship with me. I remembered the amazing bubble bath I'd had and decided that was going to be the first thing I did when I got home. I deserved it. I needed to relax. Quite frankly, I was about to denounce my dislike for spas and let Monica take me to get a much-needed massage and spend half a day in a steam room like she'd been trying to get me to do with her for months. I needed a break. I needed a damn vacation.

"Carrie!" Our receptionist, Samantha, called from behind me as I was about to head out the door.

I turned to face her. "Yeah?"

"Do you have a minute? It's kind of important," she said hesitantly.

"Of course." I gestured for her to follow me to the unoccupied boardroom. "What's going on?"

I folding my hands on the shiny mahogany tabletop, watching as she fidgeted in her seat, glancing around the room and finally stopping to focus on the painting of the Rocky Mountains on the wall behind me. The girl who was usually so talkative and bubbly was suddenly someone I barely recognized.

"Your fiancé, Derek..." she began, trailing off and tucking her hair behind her ears.

"Ex-fiancé," I corrected, touching my ring finger out of habit to make sure the ring really was gone.

Samantha seemed surprised by that. I assumed she wanted to talk to me about the breaking news. She was probably worried about me, thinking we were still together. I'd never known her to act so shy about anything before though.

"Your ex-fiancé," she said, staring at her chipped pink manicure. "Carrie, I did something stupid and I need to tell you before it drives me crazy."

I nodded, becoming worried. "Okay."

"I've been sleeping with Derek for five months," Samantha confessed, instantly bursting into tears and covering her face. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. He was so-"

"You're not the only person he was cheating on me with," I said a little too calmly.

She peeked at me through her fingers, wiping her eyes which streaked black eyeliner and mascara across her cheeks. I felt sorry for her, but at the same time I was pissed that I'd trusted her and considered her a friend when she'd been sleeping with my fiancé.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled, frowning when she noticed the black smudges of makeup on her hands. "He talked me into it and I-"

"Regardless of what the bastard did, I thought you and I were friends," I said more sternly. "Last time I checked, friends don't fuck friends' fiancés."

"We were!" Samantha cried, wiping more makeup on her grey sleeve. "We are..."

I crossed my arms, closing my eyes tightly as if that would wish it all away. All the pain and anger and lies. It was getting to be too much. I didn't want to deal with it anymore. I wanted to walk away from everything and completely erase this whole episode from my memory.

"That's not everything though," she said, finally starting to calm down.

I groaned, resting my chin on my fist. "Oh, great. There's more. Like a fucking bad infomercial."

"Carrie, I'm sorry," she sighed. She sounded sincere. "I know what I did was wrong and I'm sorry."

I waved my hand. "I've heard that. What's the rest?"

"Derek's been arrested for stealing money right?" Samantha asked hesitantly, giving me the impression that she knew something.

"Yes," I nodded slowly. "Why?"

A long drawn out silence filled the board room as I waited for her to tell me what was on her mind.

"Do the police know everything?" she asked quietly, staring at her hands on the table.

I knew this was leading to something interesting. I wished Nick was here. "Why are you asking?"

Samantha shifted anxiously in her seat, her hands starting to shake. "I did something really stupid."

Yeah, Derek! My mind said sarcastically.

"What did you do?" I asked calmly. I hoped my nice, caring tone would persuade her to tell me anything she might be hesitant about.

"There are these files," she said, taking a deep breath. "Derek gave me like eight folders..."

My eyebrows shot up. What I thought was going to be a normal conversation with a colleague had turned into evidence for Derek's indictment. Now I really wished Nick was here. I considered calling him and asking him to come to the office so Samantha could tell him everything without me having to repeat her story, but I knew she'd change her mind about telling anyone by then.

"What are they for?" I asked, anxious to hear her answer but trying to keep my cool.

"I don't know for sure. About two months ago, he came to my house in the middle of the night. It was like three in the morning. I was so mad that he'd decided to come over at random without calling or anything," she started to ramble. "But he had all these blue folders with him and he seemed upset but he wouldn't talk to me about it. He asked me to take his folders and keep them at my apartment."

"Did he say why he wanted you to do that?"

"He wouldn't really tell me anything. He just said he needed me to hang on to them for him. It was three in the morning and I was half asleep and he seemed mad so I just didn't question it. I completely forgot about it and I didn't even think about it until last night when Derek called me."

"He called you?" I asked. "What for?"

"He wanted his folders back. I told him I could bring them by after work today or he could come get them," Samantha explained. "It seemed suspicious, sure. I thought it was weird that he'd asked me to keep eight folders. I shrugged it off though. I thought I was making something out of nothing until I saw the news. I watched them arrest him and I knew I probably needed to say something about the folders in case there's stuff in there the police want."

Relief flooded through me at the discovery of possible new evidence. I thanked Samantha for telling me everything and then went to talk to Monica about it. I didn't want to make a huge deal of the news, thinking Samantha might get spooked at the thought of police talking to her and disappear.

"Oh my god," Monica gasped. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to call Nick and then I'm going take one hell of a long bubble bath," I told her.

As soon as I left the building, heading to my car, I dialed Nick's number. I was irritated when he didn't answer on the first try. I called him a second time and he finally picked up.

"Granger."

"I know it's you," I said, getting in the car.

"Hey, honey!" I could practically hear him smiling. "What's going on?"

"I just found out something interesting," I replied. "I need to talk to you."