Page 28 of Dead to Me

Instead, I stood in the parking garage under harsh lights and felt completely numb. Maybe some betrayals are too big for an instant reaction.

The next photograph showed Malcolm inside the same garage. Then Warren with another man. He wore a maintenance uniform.

The final photograph showed him placing something inside the trunk of my car.

My heart pounded in my chest. I turned the photo over. There was a name on the back.

RONALD KEENE.

I recognized that name. Not because I knew him, but from the trial.

Ronald Keene was the building maintenance supervisor who testified he saw me leaving the garage. He told the jury he recognized the way I walked and was sure it was me.

I wanted to shout from the defense table that no one can recognize someone just by their walk. But people trust confidence. Ronald Keene was confident.

I took the rest of the papers out of the envelope. There were bank statements, copies of wire transfers, and a payment to Ronald Keene sent through a shell company.

I knew the company name because Malcolm had used it before for a real estate project. There was another transfer, this time to a private account. Warren’s name wasn’t there, but his brother’s was.

I whispered, “Jesus.”

The burner phone buzzed.

THEY BOUGHT THE CASE.

I typed quickly with both thumbs.

WHY?

This time, the reply took longer.

KEEP READING.

Only three pages remained. The first was a copy of an old police report.

Victim:

JEREMY VOSS.

My stomach twisted. That name hit me harder than the others.

Jeremy Voss. He was the man they said I killed.

I sat down on the concrete because my knees suddenly felt weak. Jeremy was one of Malcolm’s business partners. He wasn’t a close friend or someone I knew well. We had met maybe four times.

The prosecution said I went to Jeremy’s office after drinking and confronted him because I thought he helped Malcolm hide money from me.

The argument got violent. Jeremy was pushed down a service stairwell, broke his neck, and died before help arrived. My fingerprints were in the office. My scarf was near the stairs. Security footage showed me in the garage. A witness said I was there.

China testified that I was unstable. Malcolm said I believed Jeremy was ruining our relationship. Warren filled in the rest.

I told everyone the same thing, that I never went there but no one believed me.

The police report I held was dated six days before Jeremy died. He had filed it himself. I started to read.

Threats. A financial dispute. Missing money. He was afraid for his safety.

Then I stopped at one sentence.