Chapter 1 - The Name That Froze His Blood
The visitation booth turned into an icebox the moment Tessa Marlow's name left my lips. Grant took an involuntary step back from the glass divider, his fingers trembling against the edge of his expensive Italian trench coat. The smug, self-satisfied grin he had worn during my sentencing completely disintegrated into raw panic.
Beside him, Margaret gasped loudly, her manicured fingers clutching her throat as the tissue she had used for fake mourning fluttered uselessly to the polished linoleum floor. Her pale eyes bulged with terror, darting toward the two armed correctional officers standing behind me.
Savannah, his heavily pregnant mistress, looked between the two of them with mounting confusion. She pulled her silk wrap tighter around her shoulders, sensing the sudden, dangerous shift in the atmosphere. "Grant, what is she talking about? Who is Tessa?"
Grant didn't answer his pregnant lover. He leaned aggressively against the reinforced partition, pressing his mouth so close to the intercom grid that his breath fogged the cold pane. "You're crazy, Rosalind! You're a convicted murderer grasping at straws to delay your prison bus!"
"Then why are your hands shaking, Grant?" I asked softly, holding his terrified gaze without blinking. "You were so proud of yourself ten minutes ago when you bragged about your farm keeping secrets for five whole years."
Two heavy metallic buzzers sounded down the detention corridor. Detective Brennan and Lead Prosecutor Marcus Vance walked briskly into the visitor terminal, their faces set in hard, stony expressions. They hadn't left the courthouse after the sentencing hearing; Preston Doyle had kept them waiting just around the corner.
"Mr. Thorne, step away from the partition," Detective Brennan commanded, his hand resting casually near his service weapon. "The state corrections department has halted your ex-wife's transfer pending an active capital felony inquiry."
Prosecutor Vance held up an audio recording device that had been running during my private legal consultation room feed. "Under state corrections protocol, non-privileged visitor conversations in public booths are monitored when inmates report undisclosed violent crimes. Your mother's comments about Tessa Marlow's hidden belongings were picked up loud and clear."
Margaret let out a strangled whimper and grabbed Grant’s sleeve with frantic desperation. "Grant, tell them she’s making it up! We were only joking! It was just talk!"
"Shut up, Mother!" Grant snarled through clenched teeth, shaking her hand off his coat with shocking violence.
May you like
The courtroom veneer of the grieving, devoted son-in-law had evaporated in less than sixty seconds. Savannah stepped away from him in horror, stumbling backward until her spine hit the brick wall of the visitor gallery.
I leaned forward toward the microphone, giving Grant the coldest smile he had ever seen. "Have a wonderful board meeting this afternoon, darling. You might want to cancel those tickets to Dubai."
