Chapter 8: The Evidence She Buried
I locked the garage door.
Monique stood behind me, trembling.
Raymond's footsteps moved away.
The silence that followed was almost worse.
I turned toward her.
“Start talking.””
She wiped her face.
“I don't know where to begin.””
“Begin with Harris.””
She looked at the recorder in my hand.
“He was the reason Raymond went to prison.””
“That isn't what you told me.””
“I know.””
“How?””
“Because Harris controlled the investigation.””
I stared at her.
“You're saying my captain framed him?””
“No.””
Her answer was immediate.
“Then what?””
“He changed it.””
“Changed what?””
“The evidence.””
I felt the floor shift beneath me.
“What evidence?””
“The gun.””
I waited.
“When Raymond came to the house, he had one.””
“Yes.””
“He fired once.””
“Yes.””
“But there were two guns.””
I looked at the recorder.
“Whose second gun?””
“Mine.””
“You owned a gun?””
She nodded.
“I bought it after Raymond started threatening me.””
“Did he know?””
“Yes.””
“So you had two firearms in the house.””
“Yes.””
“And Harris knew.””
“Yes.””
I thought about the transcript.
“You said Raymond fired first.””
“I did.””
“Did he?””
She looked down.
“No.””
My heart pounded.
“Then who fired first?””
Monique closed her eyes.
“I did.””
The words barely came out.
I stepped backward.
“You shot at him?””
“I fired into the ceiling.””
“Why?””
“Because he wouldn't leave.””
“That isn't what you told the police.””
“No.””
“What did you tell them?””
“That Raymond fired first.””
She began crying again.
“Why?””
“Because Harris told me what to say.””
“Why would Harris care?””
“I don't know.””
“You do.””
“I don't.””
“Then why did he get involved?””
She looked at me.
“Because he knew Raymond.””
That answer landed strangely.
“How?””
“They served together.””
I stared.
“In the fire department?””
She nodded.
Raymond had been a firefighter before prison.
That much I knew.
But I'd never known he and Harris had worked together.
“How long?””
“Five years.””
I looked at the photograph again.
There they were.
Younger.
Standing outside a station.
Raymond and Harris.
Smiling.
Friends.
“What happened between them?””
Monique hesitated.
“Raymond found out Harris was stealing.””
“Stealing what?””
“Equipment.””
I frowned.
“From the department?””
“Money too.””
My chest tightened.
“Harris was corrupt?””
“Yes.””
“And Raymond threatened to expose him?””
“He said he would.””
“Then Harris had a reason to silence him.””
Monique nodded.
“But why did you help?””
“I was scared.””
“You testified against him.””
“I thought prison would keep Raymond away from Kayla.””
“You let an innocent man go to prison.””
“I didn't know he'd be convicted for seventeen years.””
“Did you even care?””
Her face crumpled.
“Yes.””
I shook my head.
“You don't get to say that after what you did.””
“I know.””
I walked toward the workbench.
There were more files in the box.
One had Raymond's name typed on it.
Another had mine.
I opened mine.
The page was dated twelve years ago.
A background check.
My name.
My employment.
My financial records.
My marriage.
My family.
I looked at Monique.
“Why did Harris have a file on me?””
She shook her head.
“He didn't.””
The page included a signature.
Captain Harris.
I felt sick.
“You had him investigate me.””
“No.””
“Then how did he get this?””
“I don't know.””
I flipped through the pages.
There were photographs.
Me at the fire station.
Me picking up Jamal from school.
Me entering our house.
Me sitting with Monique at a restaurant.
Some photographs were recent.
Others were more than a decade old.
Someone had been watching me.
For years.
I looked at her.
“Why?””
“I don't know.””
“You expect me to believe that?””
“I swear.””
A noise came from the hallway.
We both turned.
Kayla appeared in the garage doorway.
She was holding something.
“Dad.””
“What is that?””
She raised her phone.
“I found this in Mom's room.””
I walked toward her.
“Give it to me.””
It was a photograph.
A newer one.
Raymond stood beside Jamal.
Both looked serious.
I stared.
“Where did you get this?””
“Mom's desk.””
Monique stepped forward.
“Kayla, give me that.””
Kayla pulled it back.
“No.””
“Kayla.””
“No!””
The force in her voice surprised all of us.
“You lied to him.””
Monique froze.
“You told me Dad would hate me if I talked.””
“I was trying to protect you.””
“You were trying to protect yourself.””
Kayla looked at me.
“Jamal didn't follow me.””
“I know.””
“He was trying to warn you.””
“About what?””
She swallowed.
“About Mom.””
I turned toward Monique.
She sank onto an old chair.
“He found the photograph,” Kayla said.
“What photograph?””
“This one.””
She handed it to me.
I looked again.
Raymond.
Jamal.
They were standing outside a convenience store.
The timestamp printed in the corner was six months old.
Before any of this started.
“Did Jamal know Raymond?””
“No,” Kayla said.
“But they're together here.””
“I asked Jamal.””
“What did he say?””
“He said Raymond found him.””
“When?””
“After Mom started telling everyone he was dangerous.””
I looked at Monique.
She whispered, “I never knew they met.””
“That isn't true.””
“I swear.””
“Then why was Jamal meeting him?””
“I don't know.””
I turned to Kayla.
“What did Jamal tell you?””
“He said Raymond gave him something.””
“What?””
“A name.””
“Whose?””
Kayla looked terrified.
“Harris.””
The garage went silent.
I stared at the photograph.
My former captain had been investigating me.
Raymond had been meeting Jamal.
Monique had lied about the shooting.
And somehow, all of it connected to a man I had trusted for more than twenty years.
I opened the last file in the box.
Inside was a typed statement.
At the bottom was Raymond's signature.
I read the first line.
*I did not come to Monique's house to hurt her. I came because Captain Harris had threatened to kill my daughter if I exposed him.*
My hands went cold.
I kept reading.
The final paragraph contained one name.
Mine.
*Marcus was never supposed to be involved. But after I was arrested, Harris told Monique that one day he would use Marcus to finish what he started.*
I dropped the paper.
Monique whispered my name.
“What did you do?””
I looked at her.
She was crying.
“I didn't know.””
“You didn't know what?””
“That Harris had chosen you.””
I stepped closer.
“Chosen me for what?””
She didn't answer.
My phone rang.
Jamal.
I answered immediately.
“Where are you?””
His voice was breathless.
“Dad, listen to me.””
“Where are you?””
“I left work.””
“Why?””
“Because somebody followed me.””
My heart stopped.
“Who?””
“I don't know.””
“Where are you now?””
Another voice spoke in the background.
A man's voice.
Jamal gasped.
Then the phone dropped.
“Dad?””
Static.
Then silence.
“Jamal!””
Nothing.
I ran toward the garage door.
Monique shouted behind me.
“Marcus!””
I stopped.
She was staring at the photograph of Raymond and Jamal.
Her face had gone white.
“What?””
She whispered,
“That picture wasn't taken six months ago.””
“Then when?””
She pointed at the timestamp.
“The date is wrong.””
I looked.
She was right.
May you like
The printer had stamped the wrong year.
The picture was taken yesterday.
