They showed cash transfers to people Jill had never heard of.
Flipping through them, she soon realized they represented thousands of dollars.
It was November 2013.
Though he had been vague about the details, the story made sense to her.
Deven liked to be the hero the one to help out, she says.
This new stash was different.
This was money she knew that he didnt have.
That they didnt have.
So what on earth could this be about?
When Deven arrived home, Jill confronted him.
Solidly built and standing over 6 feet tall, Deven slumped.
But what struck Jill was that he didnt seem to share her concern.
And the more he shrugged things off, the more enraged Jill became.
Are you being blackmailed?
she all but screamed.
He flailed for answers, and his explanations didnt hold together.
Jill didnt believe it.
When Jill looks back to that day, she knows now it was a pivotal moment.
Something was seriously wrong with Deven, but what?
Was it a midlife crisis?
And then came the phone call that filled in the details about her husbands final days and brutal murder.
Who or what really killed Deven Black?
Part 2: A one-of-a-kind mind
THEY MET ONa blind date in 1980.
He was funny and sharp, with a keen sense of the absurd.
Jill was a stickler for the facts.
He was a spendthrift; she was frugal.
It made for good sport, and they had enough in common to make it a good match.
They married in 1983.
Deven really loved being a dad, and those were probably our closest times, Jill says.
Sometimes your own child is the most entertaining person on earth.
But his idiosyncratic methods caused disagreements with his principal, as even Deven acknowledged.
I dont believe in distinct subject areas.
To me, knowledge is a holistic, completely interconnected, ever-growing thing, he once told a reporter.
Eventually, his principal suggested he might be a better fit as the schools librarian.
The role suited him perfectly.
He really wanted to be recognized in his field, to leave a mark, to feel he mattered.
The principal suspended him and launched an investigation.
Deven was devastated by that, Jill recalls.
He really didnt know hed upset someone.
She had to insist he not bring his tablet or laptop to the dinner table.
When she challenged him, he became placid and said it wouldnt happen again but didnt apologize.
It was maddening to her, and the couples friends concluded he was experiencing amidlife crisis.
His 60th birthday was approaching in October, and he dreaded it.
It was a few weeks after his birthday that Jill found the stash of wire-transfer receipts in his backpack.
During her lunch hours at work, she began searching for an explanation for Devens behavior.
Friends suggested it might be internet addiction.
No, there was more to his transformation.
Bipolar disorder, an acquaintance speculated.
Some symptoms fit, but others did not.
Deven seemed to have no problems with his memory or cognition.
But then another crisis would occur.
