Chapter 36
It's been almost two months since I reached out to my friends to start an investigation on my own, but so far I haven't done anything. Austin has already pressed me about it three times, which always makes me wonder if it's worth reliving everything.
This week, Robert called me and said Jhonatan is making progress in the investigation—still secret—but from what Robert's been hearing, Jhonatan found some new evidence that contradicts the findings of the original expert on the case.
Based on this information, I called Austin and Anthony and scheduled access to the lot where the car is stored.
We're going to start our own investigation, and I hope we can resolve this quickly.
That's why I requested another expert—with two, the evaluation should be faster.
But when we got there and saw the condition of the car, I realized it could take longer than expected.
I left them working so they could give me a report by the end of the day, and that's exactly what they did. From what they've told me so far, some things aren't matching up with the previous expert report. I admit I was caught off guard, but I didn't let it shake me.
I'll keep going, and if Mr. James is innocent, I'll apologize to him and Amélie for my mistake.
I'm reading the expert's report when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket—probably a message, so I'll read it later.
I grab the previous report and the photos, spreading them across my desk.
The comparisons are strikingly different.
I hope they finish as quickly as possible.
It's late. I go up to my room to shower and lie down—I'm exhausted. Once I'm settled in bed, I decide to read the message from earlier. Unknown number, no sender, and the following words.
“How are you, judge? Finally breathing fresh air. Did you think I'd stay locked up for long? Hate to break it to you, but I'm free—and thirsty for revenge. I'll be in touch again soon.”
I stare at the message, wondering who it could be. I've imprisoned so many drug dealers, abusers, murderers. I've received plenty of messages like this one, so I just turn off the screen, grab my other phone, and call Marcus to tell him to stay alert—especially when it comes to Ellie.
I toss and turn half the night. I can't rest after that text, and I don't know why I'm so restless—my house is well protected, and nothing has ever happened here.
I always hire excellent security professionals.
I try to relax and sleep until I finally doze off.
I dream about Amélie. She's smiling at me from afar and comes closer, slowly.
Just when she's very close, my phone alarm goes off.
Damn, I had to wake up right now. I take a deep breath and get out of bed.
She was so close. I run my hands through my hair, pushing it back, and realize how much I miss her.
I go through my morning routine, grab an all-black suit from the closet, and put it on.
Today is one of those days when no one should even look at me the wrong way.
I head downstairs to the kitchen, drink my coffee black without sugar, then leave the house. Today I'm taking the security guards with me. When I receive threats like this, I always take extra precautions. Having warned the security team, I feel calmer.
I head to the office. I don't have any hearings today, so I'll spend the whole day reviewing the company's cases. When I arrive, I lock myself in my office and tell my secretary I don't want any visitors.
I'm sitting in my chair reading a business case when my phone rings. I don't want to talk to anyone, but whoever it is keeps calling until I finally answer.
“Just say what you want already.”
“You're lucky someone puts up with you, otherwise you'd be living alone in that mansion of yours.”
“Any news from the expert report?”
“Yes, I got a message. They're suspecting the brakes—mechanical problems. They said one more week and they'll have the final report.”
“Perfect. I want to wrap this up soon.”
“What's with the bad mood today?”
“The usual—threatening messages.”
“Did you beef up security at your house?”
“Yes, ever since Garcia's lawyer came to see me. I increased it, and they work around the clock now.”
“Be careful with Ellie. You can't mess around with these people.”
“Yeah, I know. I've already given orders not to go out and not to let anyone in.”
“If you need me, you know where to find me.”
“Thanks.”
I hang up and go back to the case. I make some notes for the lawyer who'll be handling this lawsuit.
I always like to give them a heads-up or offer guidance.
Even though I don't practice law myself, I stay current on all the laws and how trials are conducted.
My job is to be fair with my clients and always honest. I only take cases that are within the bounds of the law.
Many people come to me wanting my lawyers to defend murderers, armed robbers, and other criminals. They offer me money, but I don't take it. I've always been loyal and fair, and that's exactly why I'm investigating the accident from years ago.
The day passes quickly. I don't receive any more messages or calls. I decide to call Anthony to see if he can trace where the phone came from. He asks me to come to his house, so that's where I head.
“Owen, come in, please.”
“Security-wise, your house is better than mine.”
“We have to stay ahead of this, right? So tell me about the message.”
I pull my phone out of my pocket and hand it to him.
He waves me over to what he calls the “fun room.” The place is packed with computers, tracking equipment—he even has satellite access.
I’ve known Anthony for years. He used to be a cop until he took a bullet and nearly died.
After that, he decided to change careers. Now he’s a private investigator.
“I’ll try to trace it, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to. These burner numbers are disposable—they use them once and toss them.”
“But isn’t there a way to at least find out who bought it?”
“That’s exactly what I’m going to look into.”
He plugs a cable into my phone, and suddenly a flood of information starts appearing on the huge screen he has set up. We wait there for about ten minutes before he speaks up.
“Found it. But the SIM was probably bought using a cloned account. See here?” He points to an arrow on the screen. “This is the country where the buyer supposedly lives.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Yeah, but unfortunately it happens all the time. What’s easier to trace are phone calls. Even with a distorted voice, I can catch them here.”
“And what do you need for that?”
“I’m going to install an app on your phone that’ll record all your calls. If you get a call from them, just bring it straight here.”
“That easy, huh? I thought it’d be something more interesting.”
“Got an opinion on everything, don’t you, judge?”
“Just install the damn thing already. I want to get out of here.”
“What’s wrong? Didn’t sleep well? Didn’t eat? Or do you just need to get laid to improve your mood?”
“Shut up, idiot. I’m just stressed about all this.”
“Alright, all done, Your Honor,” he says, handing me back my phone. “If you get the call, come straight to my place. And relax—we’re going to catch this bastard.”
I take the phone, mutter a “thanks,” and leave.
Today I just want to get home and unwind, keep an eye on the security cameras, and see my daughter.
And that’s exactly what I do. I get home, take a shower, and spend some time with Ellie until she falls asleep.
Then she comes to mind again—but first I need to finish the job we’re working on. After that, I’ll go find her.