I called Ruth Adeyemi’s office at 08:00 and left a message with her assistant.

Tell her I want to answer her question on the record. Tell her I’ve got the timestamps.

Chapter 12 — Eleven Names

Maya Ellis had been in protective relocation for fourteen months, in a place I am not going to describe, and by the spring she had a job at a farm supply store and a dog and a therapist she was rude about but kept seeing.

I went to see her in May, with Rachel, in a rented house on a lake with two deputy marshals playing cards on the porch.

She looked better than the night she’d stood dripping in my lobby, which is not the same as good. She’d gained some weight back. She still stood with her back to walls.

“They’re going to lead with it,” she said, before anyone sat down. “Aren’t they.”