Jerry
“Draw a star.”
“What?”
“Draw a fucking star.”
“Draw a star,” Jessalyn whispered.
He drew a star.
Thank fuck for that. “Good. We have a problem.”
“No kidding.”
Jez had hopped over the rear fence twenty minutes ago, unbolted the back gate, and led the others in through the backyard.
Ari, Dawson, Brax, and Grey. Grey was already whining about “reputational damage”—his, not Justin’s.
Nolan had looked shaky, so he’d been excused, and Zach was driving him back to Nyx, where Echo would give him a pep talk.
“We’re playing a game of cat and mouse, and at the moment, we’re the mouse. I don’t like being the mouse. I want to be the lion.”
“What am I supposed to tell Amie’s parents? Her sister?” Justin asked. Per Echo, Saige had started a new social media channel in a quest to cash in on her sister’s disappearance. Echo had trashed it, so she’d started another one. “I need to call my lawyer.”
“Forget Amie’s family. They’re not important.”
“They damn well are.”
“To the case. They’re not important to the case, and that’s what we’re focusing on right now. You can write a condolence card later.”
A tear rolled down Jessalyn’s cheek. Justin looked as if he wanted to stuff a sock in Jez’s mouth, but she knew he’d never have the balls.
“Why is this happening?”
“I thought we’d established that? Levi needs a scapegoat, and you’re it. You were the only viable option. The question you should be asking is, how are we going to turn the tables?”
“Can’t we just tell all this to the police?”
“Oh, please. You think Rimer will listen?”
Surprisingly, it was Jessalyn who spoke up. “Special Agent Rimer th-thinks you’re guilty. She said as much to me, and…and she talked about Ruby’s death too. She thinks you were involved.”
Interesting. “She said more or less the same thing to me today.” Meddling in another investigation. Why did she suspect anyone had meddled in the first? “We have to assume that Rimer is a lost cause.”
“There’s much more evidence to suggest that somebody is messing with Justin,” Ari said and began ticking off points on her fingers.
“Amie’s abduction occurred when his routine suggested he’d be at home.
She was taken from her place of work. Her body was dumped on land Justin owns.
Whoever left her placed a potted orchid on her resting place.
” Justin visibly jolted at that revelation.
“Then there was an anonymous tip telling the police where to find her. Someone’s trying really hard to make all the clues point toward him. ”
Jez tried not to show it, but she was worried about the autopsy.
Because if she’d been pulling a stunt like this, she sure as shit would have left some incriminating evidence on the body—a hair, a blood spot, saliva.
Those things weren’t as hard to collect as you might imagine.
If the cops found Justin’s DNA on Amie, then bye-bye freedom.
His lawyers would be left arguing in front of a jury. Hey, maybe he licked her at the office.
Echo already had her cyber tentacles in the Virginia Department of Health’s online systems, and they knew the autopsy was scheduled for Tuesday morning.
Which gave them a little over twenty-four hours to come up with a plan.
And they were still operating with so many gaps in their intel—the Diamondback Devils didn’t have much of a digital footprint, whoever looked after IS at the Justice Project was apparently more competent than most government agencies, and Barbie reported that Raelene Holtz drove a surveillance detection route on her way to work.
Paranoid, or did she know people were out to get her?
As for Serafina Hennessy, she’d travelled to the Redding’s Correctional Complex down in Wise yesterday, where the visitor log showed she’d spent time with Levi Sykes. Congratulating themselves on a plan well executed? Now she was back in Richmond, ready for work on Monday morning.
Fuck her.
“So if we can’t count on the police, what do we do?” Justin asked.
“We have one advantage—Holtz and Hennessy have no idea who they’re dealing with.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Grey said, and they all turned to look at him.
“Explain.”
“One of the interns flagged an email. It’s from Hennessy, inviting me to come for a cosy chat at the Justice Project’s offices at a time of my convenience.”
A spark of anticipation flickered, and Jez held out a hand for his phone. “Give me that.” She glanced at the date. “Grey, this was flagged four days ago.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been busy.”
For fuck’s sake. Couldn’t the man multitask?
Dear Congressman Meyer,
I am writing to invite you to visit the Justice Project in order to learn more about our work and the individuals and families affected by wrongful convictions.
During your visit, you’ll have the opportunity to meet with our attorneys and staff, observe how post-conviction investigations are conducted, and hear about those whose convictions were overturned through DNA testing and reinvestigation.
These experiences offer a tangible look at how forensic science, due process, and legislative safeguards intersect to protect the integrity of our justice system.
A visit would also provide an opportunity to discuss the systemic factors that contribute to wrongful convictions—such as eyewitness misidentification, false confessions, unreliable forensic methods, and prosecutorial misconduct—and how thoughtful policy reforms can reduce these risks while maintaining public safety.
We believe your perspective as a member of Congress would greatly enrich these discussions, and we would be honoured to host you at a time that fits your schedule.
Our team would be happy to coordinate the logistics and tailor the visit to focus on issues of particular interest to you and your constituents.
Thank you for your continued service and for your attention to this important issue. We hope to welcome you to the Justice Project soon.
Respectfully,
Serafina Hennessy,
On behalf of the Justice Project
So, this was how they wanted to play it? With fake pleasantries and sneakiness? They were clearly trying to recruit Grey to their cause.
“Should I just delete it?” he asked.
“No, reply to her.”
“Saying what?”
“That you and members of your team will be delighted to visit tomorrow afternoon to discuss their work.”
“Tomorrow? I don’t even know what’s on my schedule tomorrow. I’ll have to call Ava.”
“Tomorrow,” Jez said firmly.
“Shouldn’t we plan this properly? Why so soon?”
Fuck Serafina Hennessy. They were going to beat her at her own game.
“Because tomorrow, we’re all going to need an alibi.”