Page 136 of Ruthless Intent

“I do. It’s in a couple of hours. Look, something was brought to my attention this morning. I’m wondering if you could get Knight to check into it for me?”

“What do you need?”

“Is there any way he can get the transcript from the first trial? Someone mentioned this morning that the knife submitted into evidence went missing. No matter how much I try to remember everything, I wasn’t in the right state of mind to take in what was going on around me.”

“Understandable. Shouldn’t your lawyer be able to get it?”

“He already is, but …” I hesitate. I know how fucking insane what I want to say sounds.

As it happens, I don’t have to say anything.

“You’re not sure whether the record he’ll get is the real one. Do you think someone has access to the court transcripts and the ability to modify them?”

“Probably not.”

“Just because you’re paranoid, it doesn’t mean you’re wrong.” Rook’s voice is wry. “I’ll ask him to get them.”

“I doubt they’ll be any different, I just want to compare.”

“I understand that.”

“There’s just something … I don’t even know. Just something. Like I’m missing something.”

“And you can’t let it go until you’ve triple checked everything. I get it.” He pauses. “If the murder weapon was missing how did they manage to make a conviction stick?”

“Witness testimony putting me at the scene, and the blood on my hands and shirt.”

“Ahh yeah. The girl. How’s that going?”

“Not quite how I thought it would.”

Rook laughs. “It never does.” His voice turns brisk. “Okay, give me a couple of hours. I’ll let you know when Knight has something for you.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime, brother.”

I end the call.

Marissa Trumont is in the kitchen, when I walk back inside. She immediately crosses the room to hug me. I let her, holding back my automatic response to put space between us. In prison, you didn’t allow anyone that close. It could be the difference between life and death.

But she needs it. She can’t hug her son, so I’m the next best thing. And maybe I need it, too.

“I have something for you.” She hands me a little black box.

I frown down at it, then ease off the lid.

My throat closes up. My hands shake.

I close my eyes, and take in a breath, then look down at the contents again.

“I can’t take this.” My voice comes out as a choked whisper.

“He’d want you to have it.” She carefully takes the chain out of the box and holds it up. “It was in his possessions when the police gave them back to me.”

“Mari, I can’t. I don’t deserve it.”

“Nonsense.” She walks behind me and hooks the chain around my neck. My fingers cover the silver coin hanging from it, my thoughts going back to the day Jason found it.

---