“She didn’t tell me she was going to him at first. She said she was going to meet someone who could make the problem go away. I thought she meant a prosecutor or a journalist or some nonprofit lawyer she trusted. But it was Mercer.”
“How did Mia know Grant Mercer?”
“She worked for him.”
Nora knew Mia had worked briefly as a legal assistant years earlier. It had come up in background, but never as central. She had contracted for several small firms, digitizing files, organizing discovery, doing administrative work. Grant Mercer’s office had been one of them.
“What problem did she need to make go away?”
Evan looked toward the mirrored wall.
“Files.”
“What files?”
“Old case files. Payments. Witness statements. Things Mercer buried. Things he made people say and unsay. Mia found them when she helped his office move records to a digital archive.”
Nora felt the case shift beneath her.
“Why didn’t she report it?”
“She was scared.”
“Of Mercer?”
“At first, no. Of being sued. Of losing her job. Of getting dragged into something she didn’t understand. Mia liked doing the right thing, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew powerful people survive by making ordinary people regret telling the truth.”
Nora did not like how plausible that sounded.
Evan continued.
“She told me about it because we were still together then. I told her she should use it.”
“Use it how?”
“For money.”
There he was again.
The Evan she knew.
“She wanted to report him,” Evan said. “I wanted to get paid. That’s where we split.”
“You blackmailed Grant Mercer.”
“I contacted him.”
“Don’t polish it.”
“Fine. I blackmailed him.”
Nora leaned back.
Evan’s voice did not tremble. He was not confessing from remorse. He was arranging his own survival.
“How much?”
“First time? Twenty-five thousand.”
“First time.”
“He paid. Cash. Through a courier.”
“And Mia?”
“She was furious when she found out.”
“Because you exploited evidence of crimes?”
“Because I made her part of it.”
That answer came faster than the others.
Maybe real regret.
Maybe another performance.
Evan said, “She said if I contacted him again, she’d go to police and tell them everything, including what I did. I thought she was bluffing.”
“She wasn’t.”
“No.”
“What happened the night she died?”
Evan’s eyes dropped to the table.
“She texted me that Grant wanted to meet.”
Nora’s pulse changed.
“What time?”
“Around nine. Maybe a little before.”
“Mia texted you?”
“Yes.”
“From the phone that disappeared?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“She said, ‘If I don’t call you by ten, I need you to send everything.’”
“Send everything to whom?”
“Her sister. A reporter. Maybe you people. I don’t know. She had a plan.”
Nora thought of the last message they had recovered from Mia’s cloud backup: “He’s here again. I’m handling it.” Prosecutors assumed it meant Evan. Grant had leaned on that hard in trial. He’s here again. The obsessive ex. The angry man. The one with motive.
“What if ‘he’ wasn’t you?” Nora asked.
Evan gave a bitter smile.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to say.”
“No,” Nora said. “You’ve been lying.”
He accepted that with a small nod.
“Because Mercer told me if I said anything, I’d go down with him.”
“And you believed him.”