Chapter 7: The Moment He Almost Won
Julian called at seven that evening.
I let it ring.
He called again at seven twelve.
I let it ring.
At seven twenty, he sent a text: *Pick up.
I'm not threatening you.
I need to talk to you about something you don't know yet.*
I stared at the message for a long time.
Then I called Sarah.
"He's trying to reach me," I said.
"He says there's something I don't know."
"There's always something you don't know," Sarah said.
"That's how he operates.
He releases information in pieces to keep you reactive."
"What if it's real?"
A pause.
"What does your instinct say?"
"That it might be both," I said.
"Real, and also a tactic."
"Then we find out on our terms," Sarah said.
"If he has information that affects the case, his attorney can provide it formally.
Don't call him back tonight."
I put the phone down.
At eight o'clock, my doorbell rang again.
It was not Julian.
It was a woman I had never seen before — perhaps sixty, silver-haired, wearing a wool coat and carrying a small envelope.
She held it out before I could speak.
"My name is Diane Hale," she said.
"Marcus is my husband.
He asked me to bring this to you personally."
I took the envelope.
"Is Marcus all right?"
"He's better than he's been in eight months," she said.
Her voice was steady but her eyes were tired in the way that comes from a long time of worrying.
"He wanted you to have that before tomorrow.
He said you'd understand why when you opened it."
She turned and walked back down the porch steps before I could say anything more.
I watched her reach the pavement, cross to a car parked at the curb, and drive away.
I opened the envelope at the kitchen table.
Inside was a single USB drive and a handwritten note.
*Elena — Julian told me to destroy the original recordings.
I told him I had.
I didn't.
These are the meetings from the eighteen months before I resigned.
His voice.
His instructions.
Everything.
I should have given these to someone sooner.
I'm sorry I didn't.
— Marcus*
My hands were steady as I set the note down.
I picked up the USB drive and turned it in my fingers.
Julian had called tonight because he knew Marcus had these.
He had found out somehow — maybe Victoria, maybe someone else — and he was trying to reach me before I found out first.
He had almost managed it.
I called Sarah at eight fifteen.
She answered immediately.
"Marcus kept recordings," I said.
"Audio.
Eighteen months of meetings.
Julian's voice giving the instructions."
The silence on the other end lasted exactly four seconds.
"Don't plug that drive into anything," Sarah said.
"I'm sending a courier tonight.
Chain of custody matters."
"I know."
"Elena." Her voice was different now — quieter.
"This is the case.
This is everything."
I looked at the USB drive in my palm.
"I know," I said again.
After I hung up, I sat in the kitchen for a while without turning on any more lights.
The drive sat on the table in front of me.
Outside, the street was quiet.
No black sedan.
No footsteps on the porch.
My phone buzzed.
Julian again.
This time he left a voicemail.
I played it once.
*"Elena.
I know about Marcus's recordings.
I need you to understand something before this goes any further.
There are things on those recordings that will hurt people you care about.
Not just me.
Other people.
I'm asking you — I'm asking you as someone who was your husband for nine years — to call me before you hand anything over.
Please."*
May you like
I deleted the voicemail.
Then I sat and waited for Sarah's courier.
