Page 142 of Only Fate

“He wasn’t like that,” River grits out. “He wasn’t even involved in the little prank that got Earl fired. In fact, he was pissed his friends had done it. If Earl killed Ethan, it was because he was collateral damage—because I know for damn sure that Ethan wasn’t one of those dickheads who fucked with Earl.”

I nod, grabbing a pen and jotting down everything River says.

“Now, onto his prison emails.”

“Jesus, man. How do you know how to hack into all this shit?”

“Insomnia,” he says, as if it’s an obvious answer. “And boredom. I was hacking into classified documents at twelve. My mom is still mad at my dad for teaching me this.”

He goes on to say that in every email, Earl maintains his innocence. In his emails to his grandmother, he begs for her to leave Blue Beech, fearing that whoever set him up will hurt her. He also became pen pals with a woman. She was who contacted the PEP.

He goes on with more details—some of them useful, some not.

And, as if saving the best for last, he pulls out a blurry black-and-white photo.

“There was a camera on one of the deserted roads,” he says. “The landowners liked to watch for wildlife.” He stabs his finger against one photo. “Here, you can see three people getting out of the truck. Just like what the witness from the gas station said. Either two other people were with Earl—and let’s be honest; Earl wasn’t as skinny as any of these people in the photo—or a group of people stole his truck. None of them match his grandmother either, if people try to argue she was involved.” His finger slides across the photo to the date in the corner. “Same night, same time, everything.”

I rest my elbow on the table and massage my temple. “If not him, then who the hell are these people?”

They all have different builds.

All three are wearing baseball caps, hiding their faces.

How do you put this together, especially after all these years?

I pause, fishing my phone from my pocket when it vibrates. “It’s your sister.”

River throws his hand out toward it. “Answer it, dummy.”

I flip him off before hitting the Accept button. “Hello?”

“Adrian,” Essie says, frantic on the other line, “I need you to come to my officenow.”

44

Jenna stares at me nervously after I end the call with Adrian. “Am I in trouble? Did you call the police?”

I want to scream at her.

Kick her out of my office.

Tell her to go fuck herself in as many ways as I can come up with.

How could she?

She knew this for years and did nothing.

Let an innocent man go to prison.

Held the truth from a family mourning their son.

From me.

I don’t know the entire story yet.

After she told me the wrong man was in prison, I told her to stop talking.

I need an attorney to be here with me.

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