Chapter 6: The Last Page

“Who made the call?” Elena asked.

“Someone at Hale's office,” Reed said. “The contractor kept a note. We're checking the caller's identity.”

Elena looked again at the number. There could be no innocent route from her notebook to that inquiry. Someone inside the prison had passed the false reference out, and Victor's office had treated it as worth checking.

“Can you prove Mara passed it?”

“Not yet.” Reed took his notes back. “It establishes that the information traveled. That's enough to focus the next questions.”

Price entered a moment later with a folder from Elena's attorney. Elena recognized the sealed envelope inside. He had brought the draft reconciliation she had held back.

“Before you open it,” Elena said, “I need my statement to say I kept this when I gave you the other records. I did not forget it.”

Price sat. “Why did you keep it?”

“My authorization is on the last page. Victor asked me to remove a column identifying the people attached to the storage fees. I signed the replacement without asking where those names went.”

“Did you know what the fees covered?”

“I thought they covered a leased facility. I didn't verify that. I'm not going to claim ignorance of the removal; I did it.”

Reed recorded her answer. Price opened the envelope in front of her.

The names ran down the right margin. Some matched Tessa's strip. Beside Caleb Voss was a monthly fee that had continued for years after Victor claimed Caleb died. At the bottom, someone had added an initial beside two payments made last month. Elena did not recognize the initial.

“Could the fee refer to an old account rather than a person?” Reed asked.

“Yes,” Elena said. “The draft doesn't tell us why it kept being paid. But the timing lines up with the list. Check the contractor and the access logs before deciding what it means.”

Price compared the sheets. “We received a response about the warehouse this morning. The contractor retained copies of entry records. They show activity after Hale said the site closed.”

Elena let out a breath. The records existed. She had been afraid they would find only an empty warehouse and a stack of invoices she had once helped make believable.

“Do they show Caleb?”

“There are identifiers we haven't matched to individuals,” Price said. “We're working on it.”

It was a narrow answer, but Elena understood the reason for it. She had withheld evidence. Price was still willing to take her account; she was no longer entitled to assume complete trust.

“There's something else,” Price said. “The contractor reported an instruction to remove equipment before the lease ends. We're seeking to preserve the records and the devices.”

“Victor knows you're looking,” Elena said.

“He knows someone is.”

Elena glanced at the last page of the draft. “Then he may try to put all of it on Mara.”

“That possibility is being considered.”

An officer knocked. The interview time had ended. As Elena stood, Price closed the folder.

“I'll speak to your attorney about the consequences of the late disclosure,” Price said. “You did the right thing bringing it in now.”

“I should have done it before Tessa found that list.”

Price did not argue.

On the unit, Elena learned Tessa had been reassigned away from laundry pending a transfer request. Ruth was relieved. Mara was furious.

That night Dana approached Elena by the water fountain. “Mara says you made up the warehouse numbers.”

“Ask her which ones.”

“She says she has your notebook.”

Elena touched her jacket pocket. The notebook was there. Dana saw the motion and smiled.

“A copy, then,” Elena said.

“She says you can admit what you did in front of everybody tomorrow. If you do, she'll stop asking about the laundry girl.”

“Tessa has a name.”

“I didn't say it.” Dana stepped back. “Tomorrow at dinner.”

Elena spent the following morning in the interview room with her attorney. She told him about Dana's message. He urged her to report it to staff and stay away from Mara's table.

“I will report it,” Elena said. “And I won't let her tell a roomful of women Tessa forged evidence without answering her.”

“You cannot force a confession out of Quinn.”

“I don't expect one.”

She had asked Price for one small thing: the names on the last page of the draft, without the amounts or her authorization, written in the same order they appeared in the original. Price would not hand over an investigative record for use in a dining hall. Elena accepted that. She could memorize seven names and write them in her own notebook. Tessa's strip and Elena's draft both placed Caleb last; the pattern before him was what mattered.

Her attorney studied the page Elena had written from memory. “What will reading this accomplish?”

“Mara has a copy of my wrong number. She thinks it proves I invented the warehouse lead. If she brings it up, I can show her where it came from, then ask about the names she wanted Tessa to find.”

“That could make you a target.”

“She made me one on my first day.” Elena closed the notebook. “I've filed the threat report. I want the officers to know I'm going to dinner.”

Her attorney did not approve of the choice. He made sure the report was taken anyway.

At dinner, an officer stood near the center aisle. Elena collected her tray and walked to the table where Mara had poured milk over her head. Conversation faded as she approached.

Mara held a folded photocopy between two fingers. “Back for another lesson?”

“You asked me here.” Elena set down her tray. “Dana delivered the invitation.”

Dana's cheeks colored. An officer looked their way.

Mara unfolded the page. “You told everybody there's a secret account at the warehouse. This number doesn't belong to one. I had it checked.”

“You did.” Elena let the words carry to the next table. “Or somebody checked it for you.”

“So you're admitting it's fake.”

“I'm admitting I wrote it down wrong and crossed it out. The corrected number is in the records I gave investigators before I came here.”

Mara held the photocopy closer. The crease had cut through the warning. She searched for another line to attack.

“You've been lying about the warehouse,” she said.

“The contractor's records are real. Ask Victor what they show.”

Mara's eyes narrowed. “You think he told me anything?”

It was the first time she had mentioned Victor herself. Elena felt the shift in the room; people heard it too.

“I think he told you enough to look for a list,” Elena said. “You asked Tessa to search clothing before I ever arrived. Why?”

“Tessa's making things up.”

“Then you won't mind looking at the names.”

Elena opened her notebook to the page she had written from memory. She kept it in her own hands, angled so Mara alone could read it. The first six names drew no visible response. At Caleb's, Mara's finger tightened around the photocopy.

“Where did you get these?”

“From records I should have given investigators sooner. They have them now.”

Mara read the last line again. Elena had added one more name beneath Caleb's that morning, after comparing the old draft with the list and remembering a woman who appeared repeatedly beside the service fees. It was a name Elena had kept out of the public exchange until now.

Mara lifted her head. Her eyes swept past Elena toward the women waiting in the dinner line.

For a moment the dining hall was as quiet as it had been when the milk struck Elena's tray.

Then Mara saw who she was looking for.