Chapter 14 - The Cell on Eager Street

The visitor’s partition in the federal detention center on Eager Street was made of two-inch bulletproof polycarbonate glass, scratched and yellowed by years of cleaning chemicals.

Garrett sat on the metal stool on the other side, wearing an orange prison jumpsuit that hung loose over his slumped shoulders. His right leg was secured in a heavy plastic medical immobilizer from the fractured knee, and his face was pale, sunken, and covered in five days of patchy, graying stubble.

He picked up the heavy plastic phone receiver with a trembling hand as I sat down across from him.

"Rosalind," he whispered, his voice tinny and muffled through the small speaker. "You came."

I didn't pick up the receiver.

I set a manila folder flat against the glass on my side, opening it so the three certified documents faced him.

Page one: Petition for Absolute Divorce on Grounds of Attempted Homicide and Fraud.

Page two: Federal Asset Forfeiture Order — Seizure of All Personal and Corporate Accounts of Garrett Vance.

Page three: Grand Jury Indictment — Two Counts First-Degree Premeditated Murder, One Count Attempted Murder by Poisoning.

Garrett stared at the pages, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. He tapped the glass with his knuckles, gesturing wildly toward the phone receiver on my hook.

"Talk to me!" he mouthed through the thick plastic. "Rosalind, please! Penelope is testifying against me to get manslaughter! You have to tell the prosecutor I was coerced!"

I looked at him. I looked at the man who had poured poison into my milk with a smile, the man who had driven me into a freezing river and calmly lit a cigarette while the water covered my face.

I didn't feel rage. I didn't feel sorrow.

I picked up the black receiver, held it to my ear for three seconds, and spoke four words:

"Have a long life, Garrett."

I hung up the receiver, closed the manila folder, and walked out of the visitor’s room without looking back through the glass.

NEXT CHAPTER 👉 👉 👉

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