Chapter 7: The Glass Partition
Before the grand jury convened, Detective Miller arranged for me to confront Evelyn Vance.
I sat in a wheelchair, draped in a thick fleece blanket to cover my bandages, on one side of a reinforced glass partition in the county jail’s visiting room.
When the heavy steel door on the opposite side buzzed open, Evelyn stepped in. Her manicured hair was gone, replaced by a dull, tangled mess. Her designer sweater had been swapped for an oversized orange jumpsuit. But when her eyes met mine, her expression was still filled with that same arrogant, condescending contempt.
She sat down and picked up the plastic telephone receiver. I did the same.
"You look pathetic, Clara," Evelyn’s voice crackled through the speaker, cold and sharp. "Dragging yourself in here like a martyr."
"You're going to spend the rest of your life in a state penitentiary, Evelyn," I said, my voice steady, completely devoid of the trembling terror she was used to hearing in that garage. "You and Arthur."
Evelyn let out a bitter, raspy laugh. "Arthur was weak. He hesitated every time he held that lighter. I told him from day one that he should have just pushed you down the basement stairs. But you think you’ve won? You have no idea how deep this goes, girl. You were just a bank account with a heartbeat."
"I know about Richard Sterling," I said quietly.
Evelyn’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, her eyes narrowing.
"I know about the forged guardianship documents," I continued, leaning closer to the glass. "I know Sterling promised you thirty percent of the trust payout once I was dead. And I know your paralegal, Sarah, is currently sitting in an interrogation room in Miami telling federal prosecutors every detail of how you paid her twenty thousand dollars to stamp my forged signature."
Color slowly drained from Evelyn's face. The composure she wore like armor began to crack.
"You're bluffing," she whispered, her voice finally losing its absolute edge.
"Arthur has already offered to testify against you and Sterling in exchange for dropping the death-penalty enhancement," I lied smoothly, watching her eyes widen in sudden, frantic panic. "He’s giving up everything, Evelyn. He’s putting it all on you."
"That ungrateful little coward!" Evelyn spat into the receiver, her fingers knotting into tight fists against the counter. "I did this for him! I set up the offshore accounts! I brought Sterling into the deal!"
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On my side of the glass, Detective Miller quietly pressed STOP on the digital audio recorder connected to the jail’s line.
Evelyn saw the red light go off on Miller's device and realized what she had just confessed to. She slammed the receiver down against the wall, her face contorting in rage, as the guards grabbed her arms and forced her back through the door.
