From the Desk of Zoe Washington(35)

I’d be twenty-five years old in thirteen years. Even if he could get out of prison then, that was a very long time from now—especially if he was innocent. I couldn’t wait that long. I wanted to fight for him.

“Please,” I begged. “If you really love me, if you’d really do anything, then this is the one thing I’m asking for. Please just tell me her name. I need to know.”

Marcus sighed heavily into the phone, and then there was silence for a few moments. For a second, I thought the call had gotten disconnected.

But then Marcus finally said, “Okay. Her name is Susan Thomas.”

I exhaled with relief and wrote down the name Susan Thomas in big, bold letters in my journal. Then I underlined it a couple of times. “Grandma said you met her at a tag sale.”

“Right. The day before it happened, I saw her ad on Craigslist. She was getting rid of a bunch of stuff at her house in Brookline and I wanted to check out her futon. I called her and we set up a time to meet the next day—the day Lucy was killed.

“The problem is,” Marcus continued, “she was about to move. That was why she was getting rid of stuff. I don’t know where she was moving, but I don’t think she’s at the old address anymore.”

If I looked her up, I could probably find her new address. “What do you remember about her?” I asked. “How old was she? What did she look like?”

“She was white with straight brown hair and brown eyes. She had freckles on her face, that part I remember. I don’t know how old she was, maybe in her early thirties.”

I wrote everything down. I racked my brain and tried to think of what else I would need to know. “Anything else? Do you know what her job was?” If I couldn’t find out where she lived, I might be able to track her down through her job, if she was still there. Or even if she moved.

“She mentioned students at one point,” Marcus said. “I don’t know for sure, but she might’ve been a teacher. We talked for a few minutes when I went to check out the futon. I know she was married, and didn’t have any kids at that time. But I didn’t really learn much else about her. I was there to buy stuff from her. And when I told my lawyer about her, he said he’d look into it, but then he never found her. That’s all I remember, Zoe.”

“Okay,” I said. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I really don’t want you getting involved with this,” Marcus said. “Please, just live your life and be happy, okay? That’s what I really want for you.”

“I will,” I said. After I find your witness.

We talked for a few more minutes, and I asked him if he ever got to watch basketball in prison.

“Sometimes,” he said. “When I’m lucky.”

A few more minutes after that, he had to go. I didn’t know when we’d get to talk on the phone again, but we agreed to keep writing letters.

When I got off the phone, I stared at all of the notes I took in my journal. Susan Thomas, wherever you are, I’m going to find you.





Chapter Twenty-Three


“What was that all about?” Grandma asked.

“What?” I looked up from my journal.

“You told Marcus you were going to look for his alibi witness?”

“Oh. Yes.” I had no idea where Susan Thomas lived, but I figured I could track her down online first, and then figure out how to get to her later.

Grandma frowned. “That’s not a good idea.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “You said yourself that you think he’s innocent. I want to know for sure.”

“But you can’t go looking for a stranger.”

“Why not?”

Grandma narrowed her eyes at me. “You know why not. It could be dangerous.” Then she said, “You know, I’ve been thinking that it’s time to tell your parents what we’ve been up to. It’s not good that we’ve been lying to them for this long.”

Panic shot up my spine. “You can’t!”

If Grandma told my parents now, the letters would end, and I’d definitely get in trouble for lying. I wouldn’t be able to keep getting to know Marcus, and I’d never find out whether he really was innocent. I couldn’t let either of those things happen.

How could I get Grandma to change her mind?

“Please,” I told her. “I promise I’ll forget about the alibi witness, okay? But please let me keep writing to Marcus. Mom won’t let me if she finds out, I know it. And then that’ll be it.”

I watched as Grandma considered this for the longest ten seconds of my life.

Clasping her hands together, she finally said, “Fine. You can keep writing to him. But no more talk about this alibi witness, okay? And we have to come clean to your parents at some point soon.”

Phew, I thought, but I kept a straight face. “Okay.”

“Good.” She smiled. “Want some tea? I still have some of that pink lemonade one.”

“Sure,” I said, and Grandma left me in her living room.

There was no way I could forget about Marcus’s alibi witness, especially now that I had her name. If Grandma wasn’t going to help me, I’d have to find her on my own, without anyone finding out.