“Okay, then what is it you’re looking for?” D.A. Peters clasps his hands together.
I point to the stack of boxes, and then I slide a few more folders toward him. “This is our discovery so far. There will be more.”
He glances at the boxes and then pulls the folders toward him, flipping through them quickly. He closes them back up and looks at me.
“You might want to take a closer look. Not sure they taught you this at night school, but evidence is the most important part of a law case,” Matthew retorts.
D.A. Peters rolls his eyes, paying no mind to Matthew’s bad cop routine. “You could have sent these over to my office. I didn’t need to come down here.”
“I know that. I just wanted to give you the courtesy.” I smirk.
“The courtesy of what? This case is open and shut.”
“Is it, counselor? Because from what I’ve found, it’s not. That’s where my courtesy to you comes in. You’ve been good to me, and I didn’t want to embarrass you in that courtroom, so I’m giving you nearly all of our discovery early.”
He glances at the boxes again and at the folders in front of him. A look of suspicion begins to creep into his eyes as he tilts his head in either bewilderment or disbelief, I’m not sure which. I fully expected this reaction though: I would have the same. I quickly press on. “Oh, I almost forgot.” I slide another folder to him. This folder contains the transcript of a conversation between Jesse Hook and Sheriff Stevens. I highlighted areas that I need D.A. Peters to see. I need him to want to talk to this witness. I need him to get more information out of this witness.
He opens the folder up and scans it. “Who’s Jesse Hook?”
“Exactly,” Matthew says. “Not so open and shut, is it?”
“Jesse Hook is—” I say. There’s a scream from outside the conference room.
44
Adam Morgan
An hour ago, I got in the car, and I didn’t stop driving. I had tunnel vision. I was full of rage. The outside world careened by me but only in various hues of crimson and scarlet, as if the blood boiling in my veins had grafted itself onto every single object I was seeing. And I knew leaving the house was going to have consequences, but I didn’t care—I still don’t care. I need to see this through. I need to get to the bottom of all of this. I’m running out of time and this is my last chance, my last opportunity to learn what really happened that night at the lake house, to discover who is responsible for Kelly’s death, and to free myself from this nightmare.
I’m a few steps away from throwing the doors open and coming face to face with Anne, the woman I’ve known for years, the woman who threatened me, the woman who most likely killed Kelly, and the woman who is trying to frame me for it. How could she? How could she get so close without me knowing? Why was she at our lake house? I know Sarah has let her stay there in the past for vacation, but why was she there then?
She’s never been a person I looked at twice. She was there, seemingly innocent, but now I see the cracks in her—I see who she really is: a vengeful monster. Her quietness is now plotting and manipulative. Her politeness is cunning. Her entire wholesome demeanor is just a façade for who she truly is: a bitch of the highest order.
The photo and the Post-it note are clutched in my hand. I throw the doors open and I scan the office. A couple of people look up, some look scared, others are unphased by my disheveled appearance. I walk further into the office. I am looking for one person and one person only. I know where she’ll be. It’s where she always is. Sitting, plotting, waiting. I round the corner and notice her desk is empty. Fuck.
Then, there she is walking toward me, chatting with a man beside her and carrying a stack of folders. She doesn’t notice me at first.
The man she’s walking with is familiar. I’ve seen him before. Well, obviously I must have seen him before—but I feel like this “before” was recent. She looks up and notices me, standing only ten feet away. Her eyes widen like those of a deer in headlights—like a deer that is about to be introduced to 3,000lbs of steel careening toward it at 60mph. The man beside her notices she’s stopped dead in her tracks and follows her gaze to find me. His eyes widen and then narrow. He recognizes me, and for a gleaming second, I recognize him, but then I lose it as my attention refocuses on the she-devil in front of me, the woman attempting to steal my life, the woman who killed Kelly.
“Adam, are you—are you okay?” Anne stutters.
“You!” I point at her as I close the gap between us, ready to tackle her, ready to hit her, ready to… I don’t even know what I’m ready to do. She screams. It pierces the stale office air.
“You fucking killed Kelly. You framed me. I know everything, you evil bitch!” Just as I reach her, I’m knocked to the ground. One punch to the side of my face takes me out completely. Anne is crying and standing behind the man who sucker punched me.
“What the hell is going on here?” Sarah runs in with Matthew and another man trailing. I recognize the man from my trial—D.A. Josh Peters.
“Bob, what did you do?” she asks as she sees me writhing on the floor.
“He came at Anne.” Bob points at me. That’s Bob. Oh yes, I know Bob. He’s the one who’s been giving Sarah shit for the past couple of years and gunning for her job any chance he can get. He’s a fucking dick. I never liked him even before Sarah had problems with him. He’s smug, and he’s always treated me as if he were better than me. Any office party Sarah dragged me to, he was there to remind us all how great he is.
“What the fuck, Adam? What are you doing?” Sarah’s lips barely move as she speaks through clenched teeth. She’s embarrassed by me, I can tell. Anne cries like the conniving bitch she is. Bob and Matthew try to comfort her. Sarah makes sure she is okay. D.A. Josh Peters is still trying to understand the situation, but I can see there’s a look of triumph because this is all looking good for his case—unless, of course, I can prove Anne is behind all of this.
“Her,” I say pointing at Anne. Everyone looks at her. Anne gives a who me? look. “She took the photo. She wrote the threat. She killed Kelly!” I toss the photo and note by Sarah’s feet. Sarah reaches down and brings them both to her line of sight. Eyes are wide, mouths open. My accusation has taken everyone by surprise. It’s a moment before anyone speaks. Anne shifts uncomfortably, scratching at her arm. Sarah redirects her attention to Anne.
“Is this true?” She holds the photo and note up.
Anne stutters. She looks down at the ground, shuffling her feet. “Yes. I went there to take some photographs, like the ones I showed you. But I saw them, Kelly and Adam… together.”
“Jesus Christ,” Sarah huffs.
“But I didn’t kill Kelly. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. And I wanted to tell you. But I couldn’t, so I just… I sent the threat. I wanted him to fess up.” Anne shakes her head, trying to convince us all, but mostly Sarah, that she’s telling the truth. I don’t buy it for one second.
“She’s dangerous, Sarah. The threat. She threatened mine and Kelly’s life. Can’t you see? She has to be behind all of this,” I plead.