Page 61 of Dial L for Lawyer
"Four days after six months." He brushes my hair behind my ear softly. "I'm not a patient man, Serena. But for you, I'm making the effort."
He steps back, giving me space to breathe, to collect myself. I watch as he crosses to the table, shuffling through papers with the same intensity he just applied to destroying me.
"Here." He hands me a thick printout. "These are all the times your badge was used to access the building or files in the last three months."
I take the papers with hands that are still slightly shaky. "That's a lot of data."
"Logan's thorough. And probably has three energy drinks and a conspiracy theory about why JavaScript is ruining democracy." He pulls out a highlighter, bright yellow. "I need you to go through and highlight anything that wasn't you."
"OK." I flip through the first few pages, trying to focus on the numbers and dates instead of the way he's watching me. "This might take a while."
"We have time." He settles into the chair next to me, close enough that I can smell his cologne mixed with the scent of me on his skin. "Start with the most recent and work backward."
I uncap the highlighter, scanning the entries. "This one—11:47 PM on a Tuesday. I was home. I remember because I was watching that terrible reality show about people marrying strangers."
"Love is Blind?"
I look at him, surprised. "You watch Love is Blind?"
"Dominic makes us do viewing parties. It's horrifying." He makes a note on his legal pad. "What else?"
I keep scanning. "Here—Saturday, 2 AM. I haven't been in the office at 2 AM since... ever."
"Good. Keep going."
We work in surprisingly comfortable silence for twenty minutes, me highlighting, him making notes. Every so often our knees brush under the table, sending little shocks through my system.
"This is weird," I say suddenly.
"What is?"
"This pattern." I flip back and forth between pages. "Look at how many late-night or early-morning entries there are.”
"Someone who knew your schedule well enough to know when you wouldn't be there." He turns to look at me, our faces suddenly very close. "Someone on your team."
"It wasn't Lisa," I say with sudden certainty. "She has three kids. She's never at the office past 6 PM unless there's an emergency, and even then she complains about it."
"Then who?" Caleb's voice is gentle, but there's an urgency threaded through it that vibrates all the way into my molars.
"I don't know, but…" I flip pages, tracing the monstrous schedule, hunting for patterns. "These dates—they're all Thursdays and Saturdays."
"Does that mean something to you?"
"Maya goes to her CrossFit class on Thursday nights. She's always posting about it on Instagram. And Saturdays she supposedly visits her mom in Evanston."
"Supposedly?"
"I ran into her mom once at Whole Foods. On a Saturday. She seemed surprised when I mentioned Maya's weekly visits."
Caleb's eyes sharpen. "That's suspicious, but not proof."
"You’re right. Why would she visit her mom at 2AM?" I stare at the highlighted timestamps, feeling bad for even considering Maya when she’s been nothing but supportive the whole time we’ve worked together. “Maybe we should be looking outside of my team? Like, maybe it’s just some random person Radiance sent in and I’ve never even seen them before?”
"Maybe." Caleb's hand covers mine. "Let's get Logan to pull the footage before we jump to conclusions."
"You're right." I take a breath. "When can he get it?"
"Give him the week to go through it all. There’s a lot to sift through."
