Page 20 of Dead Air
The software beeped its completion. Still no definitive match. Maybe these damn things were all a hoax.
Lawson reached for her phone. Recorded herself saying "Richardson." Processed the audio. Compared it to the mystery voice. Not close enough for the software to flag as a match, but the timbre and resonance shared qualities.
She tried another name. Recorded "Walsh." Processed it. The software registered higher similarity, but still below the threshold for confirmation.
Her eyes burned from screen glare and lack of sleep. Her shoulders ached from tension. The coffee had worn off hours ago, leaving jittery exhaustion in its wake.
She needed better equipment. Professional software. Clean reference recordings of potential matches. Without those, she chased digital ghosts through distorted audio.
The voice had said her name. Just her name. No context. No explanation for why someone else had been present at a scene officially documented as having only two people before backup arrived.
Lawson saved her work to a flash drive. Backed it up to cloud storage. Documented every step of her analysis in case the original files became compromised.
She closed the laptop. The sudden darkness left afterimages floating across her vision. Her apartment returned to formless shadows. She didn't move, letting her eyes adjust while her mind raced.
Leah Blackwell must have heard that voice too.
chapter
eight
Lawson followedClaire into a second-floor office overlooking Forsyth Park. The space wasn’t flashy, more lived-in than swank, but sunlight from tall windows gave it a genteel Savannah charm. A row of desks and battered bookcases suggested this was a shared arrangement, not the kind of corner suite high-priced firms flaunted downtown. Claire’s desk sat nearest the window, papers stacked in two uneven piles. From Lawson’s angle, she could only make out the museum letterhead peeking from one, and the legal-size formatting of the other.
"The Savannah Historical Society still gets most of my hours," Claire said, catching Lawson’s glance. "But I’ve taken on three cases in the last month. Testing the waters."
Lawson nodded. Claire's gradual return to law after the Anthony Bates case made sense. The museum provided stability while she rebuilt her practice and herself. "Looks like you're getting busy."
Lawson paced between bookshelves while Claire typed. The oak floorboards creaked under her boots. Three hours of sleep left her running on caffeine and adrenaline.
"Sit down before you wear a path in my floor." Claire never looked up from her keyboard. Her fingers movedwith mechanical precision, tapping out search queries. "Legal databases aren't designed for speed."
Lawson dropped into the visitor chair. "What do we have so far?"
"Leah Blackwell. Columbia Law. Top ten percent of her class." Claire scrolled through search results. "Started her podcast during her final year of law school. It gained traction while she clerked for Judge Markinson in the Second Circuit."
"After her clerkship, she joined Hutchinson and Associates as an associate in their white collar criminal defense division." Claire's eyes narrowed at something on the screen. "Only stayed a year before leaving when the podcast took off."
"Corporate law?"
"White collar criminal defense. Interesting.”
Lawson leaned forward. "What?"
"Hutchinson specialized in high profile clients." Claire turned the monitor so Lawson could see. "Politicians. CEOs. Celebrities with legal problems."
The firm's website displayed marble columns and mahogany paneling. Partners posed in tailored suits with practiced smiles. Power disguised as professionalism.
"Why leave that for podcasting?" Lawson asked.
"Money." Claire continued typing. "True crime exploded after the Serial podcast went viral. Corporate sponsors. Book deals. Netflix adaptations. Top podcasters earn seven figures."
"Not idealism then."
"I never said that." Claire pulled up another screen. "Looks like Blackwell was working on the Wallace case for a while before publishing the first season."
Lawson knew about the Wallace case. Business partners in real estate development. One murdered, the other convicted on circumstantial evidence. Blackwell's investigation had exposedprosecutorial misconduct. Wallace walked free after twenty years in prison.
"She got results," Lawson admitted.
