ROBERT The day flew past with a whirlwind of activities, appointments, and other details I couldn't keep track of. Cade's team worked tirelessly all day, collecting notes and looking for every possible lead in the case. They were extremely thorough in their investigations. They were extensively trained in law enforcement and interrogation techniques and exceptionally intelligent, making them an ideal fit for the task at hand. At some point, they’d left the office with Cade to return to the crime scene in search of clues that must have gone unnoticed during the initial investigation, while I stayed in the office with my assistant, Mark, Mr Patrick, and a few officers. Renee called several times to make sure I was okay. It was soothing to hear her voice. It was the only thing keeping me sane in this chaos. It was late noon, however, when I received an unexpected, strange phone call—a call that would change my life forever. "Hello?" My words were welcomed with silence. There was no response. No sound other than the steady breathing coming over the line. "Hello?" I repeated with a slight edge in my tone. Again, silence. Only the faint sounds of traffic and people walking could be heard in the background. It felt like the person on the other end was moving, trying to find a quieter location. "Who is this?" I asked again. Another pause. More movement and rustling. Then silence. Finally, a quiet, gravelly voice muttered. "Hello. Am I... Mr. Clarke?" "Yes. Who is this?" "Holy shit!” He gasped, and the sudden outburst hit me like a punch to the gut. That accent. The southward tilt. The familiar drawl. It was unmistakably familiar to me, and yet it couldn't be... No, it wasn't him. It’d been years since I heard that voice. Since I'd made a quiet pledge never to see him again. Not after the night in June when I discovered him fucking my pregnant wife. That night… that damned night when the friendship we’d built crumbled, shattering as easily as glass in the wind. I swallowed heavily and closed my eyes. The memories flooded back immediately — the anger and betrayal I’d felt. How I hated him. Hated her. Hated both of them. "Rob? You still there?" When he spoke, my eyes shot open. I hadn't realized my fingers were clenched into a fist, gripping the cell phone so tightly that my knuckles became white. "What the fuck do you want?" I spat harshly, alerting the others in the room. They looked at me concerned, but I waived them off, quietly instructing them to keep put. A deep breath entered the receiver, followed by a hefty sigh. "I know you’re losing your marbles, Rob," he said calmly. "And I know you still hold a grudge against me, but you need to listen to what I have to say, old friend." "Friend?" I scoffed. "We're not friends, Tom. Do not use that word on me. Get to the point? How..." My voice broke, but I continued. "How did you even get this number?" "I'll tell you what…" A raspy chuckle followed the statement. “I have me ways." Another pause. Another sigh. I said nothing. He continued. "Rob, I want to start by saying that I saw the news about your arrest. I'm sorry you had to go through that, even though it could have been avoided.” My arrest could have been avoided. What did that mean? "What the fuck are you on about, Tom?" My eyes narrowed as I stood up from my seat. Mr. Patrick and Mark shot me worried looks. "Dadgummit!” He cursed in his southern accent, and I imagined him rubbing his head with one of his large, broad palms. "About the arrest and the crime, they said you did. It'll all come out in the wash 'cause I got insider information." A shiver went down my spine—an unpleasant feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. "Shocking, right?" He let out a dry laugh. "And no, I’m not an accomplice, but I woulda been cause that hussy contacted me." "What are you talking about?" I asked with a sharpness in my tone that astonished even me. At the same time, I put the phone on speaker, slowly dropped it on the desk, and turned up the volume so everyone in the office could hear every word. More shuffling. Some whispering. Then he dropped the bombshell! "It was a surprise to me when she called. Because ever since that night, she…" He hesitated and cleared his throat. "We went our jolly ways. You might not believe me, but it’s true. So, she called. Said she wanted my help with something leery, I tell you. I asked for the details, and she told me everything. When she got done talking, I told her a hasty no. What she was asking me to do… nah. I couldn't do that to you. Then she tore up. Got madder than a wet hen, gave me the jitters, and hung up the phone. To me, that was good riddance because she spelled trouble. Amanda was and is trouble." Gasps filled the room. Even the cops looked taken aback. Mr. Patrick tried approaching me, but I raised a hand, stopping him mid-stride. My blood was boiling, and every nerve ending in my body was alive with wrath and frustration from what I’d just heard. While he talked, I held onto a sliver of doubt that this was all a twisted joke. That this was a dumb attempt to try and get back at me. Maybe even secretly mocking me. Because why was he calling after so many years? It didn’t make any sense! Why now? But as he started talking about a woman who was my ex-wife, I lost any remaining doubt. He wasn’t joking. This happened. He spoke the truth and I believed him. “Anyhoo, Rob... I ain't gotta beat around the bush when I say she's your culprit. Amanda done did everything. I won't go into details of all she said to me, but...” “Go into it," I demanded harshly. “Tell. Me. Everything!" "All of it?" "Everything!" I snapped. "The entire story. Every bit of detail that you can recall.” His hesitation was brief. Too brief. “Okay, okay… You want the whole sordid tale? I’m gonna tell you, but you won’t like it.” I watched the officers bring out their tape recorders, hoping to catch whatever he said. Mr. Patrick did the same thing, nodding along with the others. This would be substantial evidence. My hands shook, and my legs trembled as I sat back in my chair, waiting for him to start. Taking in a deep breath, Tom began talking. He recounted everything, starting with the day she called months ago. So, she'd been planning this frame-up for a while? Bile rose in my throat. He continued, narrating how Amanda had begged for his assistance. She'd tried to use him, giving him a large sum of money and sexual favors in exchange for doing her dirty work. He'd refused because his conscience wouldn't let him do such a thing, and she'd resorted to blackmail, sending death threats and emails if he so much as ratted her out. As I listened to his monologue, my thoughts drifted away, and all I could think about was the pent-up feelings surging inside me. One emotion in particular stood out. Hurt. So much hurt. Every single part of me felt as if someone had thrust a blade deep into my heart and left it to bleed freely. Every part of me wanted to tear Amanda apart for making me feel this way. For breaking our family apart—for good this time. For destroying me. And all because of what? Some petty jealousy she felt toward Renee. My God! When Tom mentioned Dylan, talking about his involvement with his mother, something inside me snapped. I slammed my fist on the desk, startling everyone. Mr. Patrick winced. Mark's brows rose, his mouth gaping wide open in surprise. The others glanced at me in confusion. "Enough!" My voice echoed throughout the office. My breathing became heavier. I turned off the speaker, shakily lifting the cell phone to my ears. "Just stop. I've gotten all I need.” There was silence for a moment before Tom cleared his throat. "Rob—" "I said, STOP!" I yelled. "I don’t want to hear anything else. Just…stop." But Tom didn’t stop. He kept talking. "I was a fool, Rob, and I know nothing can undo what I did in the past. But I never intended to ruin things between Amanda and you.” A shaky breath slipped from the speaker. "You never knew this, but I’ll tell you now. Amanda seduced me that night. She said you both were going through the patches, and the marriage was not working out. She said she wasn't cheating too, because you both dropped your rings.” Oh, God. "I was drunk as Cooter Brown that night and not myself, I assure you. I don't expect you to believe me, but nothing’s been the same since that night. I loved you, Rob. You were like a brother to me. And I'm sorry for what I did.” His last sentence was quiet, like a fleeting whisper. I took a deep breath. Tears gathered in my eyes, but I fought them off by blinking. "You’re a good man, Rob. You always were." He chuckled lowly. "Always were and always will be." "Thank you, Tom," I said quietly, finally saying something. "And thank you for telling me this. About the night with Amanda, I…I don't know what to say to you. Whether you were completely aware or not, Tom, you betrayed my trust. And I'm not sure how to forgive that. It…" Tom laughed again. A deep, hearty one this time. "Nah. That ain’t necessary. I never said all that because I wanted some good ol’ forgiveness, Rob. I just wanted to apologize. I wanted you to know the truth. That’s all." "Hmm." "You have every right to be furious at me. You did adore me. Always treated me well. We had something amazing, Rob. I will always treasure that friendship and continue to cheer you on from here. I’ve seen your exploits and successes. Working late nights back then and today, you have everything you want. I'm proud of you, old friend.” A tear finally slipped down my cheek. And when he talked about my accomplishments, I couldn't help but smile. He knew. Only Tom knew of my travails and how I worked hard to give my family the best. Before I met Cade, there was Tom—the burly laborer, handyman, and my childhood best friend. I sniffed and wiped my nose with the back of my palm. "Thank you, Tom. And for what it's worth, I'm proud of you, too.” "You flatter me, old friend." There was a brief pause. "Well, don't let me take up ya entire day. If you need my assistance with anything else, maybe regarding the case, just holler, will you?” "I will, Tom." "Goodbye then." Silence. "Goodbye, Tom." Click. The line went dead.