Chapter 5 - OFFICER GRANT KNEW TOO MUCH
Méndez stared at him.
“Why would you ask that?”
Grant realized his mistake.
“I assumed.”
“Assumed what?”
“That old phones usually have passwords.”
Méndez’s expression didn’t change.
“You recognized the device when it turned on.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“I watched you.”
Grant glanced at me.
That was another mistake.
Because I recognized him now.
Not from prison.
From somewhere else.
My trial.
He had been sitting in the back row one afternoon.
I remembered because he wasn’t wearing a uniform.
He had spoken quietly with Evelyn during a recess.
At the time, I assumed he was a family friend.
“Do you know my mother-in-law?” I asked.
Grant’s jaw tightened.
“No.”
“You talked to her during my trial.”
“Ramira,” Méndez said quietly, “let me handle this.”
Grant backed toward the door.
“This is ridiculous.”
Méndez called another officer.
Grant was removed from the room.
Not arrested.
Not accused.
Simply removed.
But the damage was done.
Two hours later, my attorney arrived.
Rebecca Sloan had defended me after my first attorney withdrew following the conviction.
She had always believed something about the prosecution timeline was wrong.
When Méndez explained what Salomé had brought in, Rebecca sat completely still.
Then she asked one question.
“Where is Evelyn?”
Méndez made a call.
Her expression changed.
Evelyn’s car was gone.
She had never waited in the parking lot.
She had dropped Salomé at visitation and left.
My stomach twisted.
“She’s running.”
“Maybe,” Rebecca said. “Or maybe she thinks she still has time.”
“For what?”
“To control the story.”
The phone was transferred for forensic examination.
Hours passed.
Then Rebecca returned.
She was carrying three printed photographs.
The first showed Adrian’s phone.
The second showed device information.
The third showed a list of recovered audio files.
There were seventeen.
Most were ordinary.
Work notes.
Reminders.
One recording of Salomé singing.
But three had been deleted.
All three were created within forty-eight hours of Adrian’s death.
Technicians had recovered fragments from one.
Rebecca sat opposite me.
“You need to prepare yourself.”
“For what?”
“The voice on the recording appears to be Evelyn’s.”
My throat tightened.
“What does she say?”
Rebecca hesitated.
Then she repeated the recovered sentence.
“If Ramira finds out where that money went, she’ll take Salomé and you’ll lose everything.”
I stared at her.
Money.
Again.
The $86,000 Adrian withdrew before his death had never been found.
I had believed he was hiding it from me.
May you like
Maybe he hadn’t been.
Maybe he had discovered someone else had already taken far more.
