Chapter 3

They had no idea that this place, the newest academic building at Anteopold University, was my project from start to finish. I was involved in the site selection, the structural design, and the final review of every construction drawing. Every blueprint, every detail, passed through my hands.

I knew exactly where the load-bearing walls were weakest, where the cameras had blind spots, and which ventilation shafts avoided every infrared sensor.

If it weren't for Sandra Pauley, I would've been standing at the very top of this field, not a man who gave up his career to orbit his family as a stay-at-home husband.

My phone rang, sharp and sudden.

Sandra.

I answered and put it on speaker.

Her voice exploded through the phone, hysterical and shrill.

"Bradley, have you lost your mind? Stop this right now! This is a crime! Do you even know what you're doing?"

I laughed softly.

"Judge Pauley, your response time today is a lot faster than when you were supposed to get justice for Monica. Where's the video? Where's the full recording I asked for? Did you bring it?"

What answered was silence.

Then, a ripple of movement broke out in the crowd below. Sandra stepped out of a patrol car and snatched the megaphone from the officer in charge.

Her voice shook, thick with tears. "Bradley, calm down. Please, calm down! I know you're hurting. I'm hurting, too. Monica was like my own sister."

She stood at the edge of the police perimeter and opened her arms toward me.

"Come down, okay? As long as you let Eric go, I'll do anything. I'll quit being a judge. We'll leave this place and go somewhere no one knows us. I'll stay with you for the rest of my life. We'll start over, alright?"

The live chat melted all over again, moved by her so-called devotion, flooding with praise for her and pleas for me to stop.

[Gosh, his wife is incredible. She's giving up her career for him!]

[Yeah, come down already. Don't hurt innocent people. Don't throw away such a good woman.]

[This is real love. Someone wake this crazy man up!]

I laughed until tears spilled out.

"Hahaha. Start over? Sandra, did you forget something? The night Monica jumped off this building, why was your phone set to Do Not Disturb?

"Oh, right. I remember now.

"Because you were too busy partying with Eric at the most upscale club in town, celebrating his 20th birthday!"

I faced the camera and spoke evenly.

"From the moment she was locked in that art room to the moment she jumped, three full hours passed.

"Monica called you 27 times. Twenty-seven! And you didn't answer a single one!

"You wiped your call log clean, sure. But the carrier's backend records should still be there, shouldn't they, Judge Pauley?"

I lifted the blood-soaked claw hammer and aimed it at Eric's already shattered leg.

The intent in my eyes was no longer hidden.

"Stop acting. I only want the video."

I stared coldly at the woman below, who was frozen in place by my words.

"Sandra, you're afraid I'll keep hurting him, that he won't take the pain and end up confessing everything. Like how the two of you lay in a hotel bed, talking about how to cut the video, how to destroy the evidence."

My voice wasn't loud, but through the speaker, every word carried clearly to everyone listening.

Sandra's face drained of color.

"Oh," I added, sharp and deliberate, "and you're still wearing his favorite wood-scented cologne. Don't think I can't smell it."