Page 30 of Dead to Me

Then:

ASK MALCOLM WHY HE WAS AT JEREMY’S OFFICE AT 9:14 THAT NIGHT.

I stared at the message. The prosecution claimed Jeremy died between 9:00 and 9:30. I typed back.

YOU HAVE PHOTOS. SEND THEM.

No answer.

SEND THEM.

I stood. My anger finally arrived. I had come home believing China and Malcolm helped frame me after Jeremy died.

That was terrible enough. Now I was beginning to understand something worse.

The burner buzzed. I glanced down.

LEAVE NOW.

I frowned. Then I heard the stairwell door open. Someone was coming up.

The burner vibrated again.

DON’T LET HIM SEE YOU.

Him.

I grabbed the photographs and stuffed everything back into the envelope. There was nowhere to hide. I hurried to the nearest SUV and crouched behind it.

Footsteps echoed in the garage. I stayed low. A shadow slid across the concrete.

Then a familiar voice muttered, “Come on.”

It was Warren. My whole body tensed up. He walked further into the garage. I saw his shoes under the SUV then he stopped.

The burner in my hand suddenly felt explosive. Warren pulled out his phone. I heard him tap the screen.

A second later, my burner vibrated. I almost dropped that shit.

The message wasn’t from an unknown number. It was a new one that I didn't recognize.

WHERE ARE YOU?

I slowly looked up. Warren was still ten feet away, glancing around, searching.

Then he dialed someone.

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

Pause.

“No, she’s not here.”

Another pause.

“I said she’s not here.”

My heart pounded in my ears. He shifted slightly.