THE LAST ALIBI

The Prosecutor's Game

Cole slept on the concrete floor. The cold woke him every hour. Each time, he checked the paper in his palm. Petra's real number. Still there.

At 6 AM, the slot opened. A tray slid in. Cold oatmeal. Black coffee. Cole drank the coffee in one long swallow. The bitterness woke him up.

At 7 AM, the door opened.

“Mathers. Court appearance. Your lawyer requested a hearing.”

Two guards escorted him out. No handcuffs this time. They led him through a different hallway, up a flight of stairs, into a small holding room behind the courtroom.

Dean Cross was already there. He looked tired. Dark circles under his eyes.

“You look like hell,” Cole said.

“I was up all night negotiating with Velez. She wants you to sign the plea agreement in open court. On the record.”

“And then?”

“Then you go to state prison for fifteen years.” Dean opened a folder. “But you asked for this meeting. What's your play?”

Cole leaned close. His voice dropped to a whisper.

“Piper Vance is in the cell next to mine. She saw a black SUV outside my house the night Lauren died. A man in a military uniform got out. Lieutenant Colonel insignia.”

Dean's eyes widened. “Your father's rank.”

“She told the police. They didn't believe her. They arrested her for obstruction.”

Dean was quiet for a long moment.

“That's not nothing. But it's not enough. A uniform could be anyone. Stolen. Faked.”

“It's a thread. We pull it.”

“We're not pulling anything if you're in prison.” Dean closed the folder. “The hearing starts in ten minutes. You're going to stand in front of the judge and say you killed Lauren. That's what a plea means.”

Cole felt the weight of those words. He hadn't killed her. But he was about to say he did.

“I need a delay,” Cole said. “Twenty-four hours.”

“Velez won't agree.”

“Then make her.”

Dean studied him. “What do you have in mind?”

Before Cole could answer, the door opened. A bailiff stepped in.

“Court is ready. The defendant will approach.”

Cole walked into the courtroom. The same wood-paneled walls. The same cold-eyed judge. The same gallery of strangers.

But today, something was different.

Petra sat in the back row.

Dark hair. Pale skin. Intense blue eyes. She was wearing a black coat and sunglasses, even indoors. She looked thinner than before. Scared.

Cole's heart slammed against his ribs.

She was alive. She was here.

Monica Velez stood at the prosecutor's table. She smiled when she saw Cole. A predator's smile.

“All rise. The Honorable Judge Arlene Prescott presiding.”

The judge sat. Everyone else sat.

“Case number 24-CR-1782. The State versus Cole Mathers. The court is informed that the defendant wishes to change his plea.”

Velez stood. “That's correct, Your Honor. The defendant has agreed to plead guilty to voluntary manslaughter in exchange for a sentence of fifteen years, with parole eligibility after ten.”

Judge Prescott looked at Cole. “Mr. Mathers, is this true?”

Cole opened his mouth. Then he closed it.

He looked at Petra. She gave a tiny nod.

“Your Honor,” Cole said. “I need more time.”

The courtroom went silent.

Velez's smile vanished. “Your Honor, the defendant initiated this plea negotiation. He requested this hearing.”

“I know,” Cole said. “But I've received new information. A witness has come forward. Someone who saw a suspicious vehicle outside my home the night of the murder.”

Dean stood up. “Your Honor, the defense requests a twenty-four hour continuance to investigate this new lead.”

Judge Prescott looked at Velez. “Counselor?”

Velez's face was hard. “This is a delay tactic. The defendant has no credible witnesses. He's trying to escape accountability.”

“The witness is in custody,” Cole said. “Piper Vance. She's being held in the same facility. She gave a statement to police, but they ignored it.”

The judge raised an eyebrow. She looked at Velez.

“Is there a record of this statement?”

Velez hesitated. “I... I'm not aware.”

“Then perhaps a continuance is warranted.” Judge Prescott tapped her gavel. “Twenty-four hours. This court will reconvene tomorrow at 9 AM. In the meantime, the defendant is remanded to custody. No bail.”

The gavel fell.

Cole was led out of the courtroom. He looked back at Petra. She was already standing, moving toward the exit.

Their eyes met for one second. Then she was gone.

The holding room was cold. Dean paced back and forth.

“That was dangerous. Velez is going to spend the next twenty-four hours destroying Piper's credibility.”

“Then we need to find the evidence before she does.”

“How? You're in a cell. I'm a lawyer, not a detective.”

Cole grabbed Dean's arm. “Petra was in the courtroom. She came because I didn't show up at the courthouse yesterday. She wants to meet.”

“You can't meet anyone from inside.”

“Then get me out. For real this time.”

Dean pulled his arm free. “No. The last escape got Sabine and Frankie arrested. This time, you stay put.”

“Then bring Petra to me.”

Dean stared at him. “You're asking me to smuggle a witness into a federal holding facility.”

“I'm asking you to do your job.”

Dean was quiet for a long moment. Then he nodded.

“I'll try. But if I get caught, I lose my law license. And you lose your lawyer.”

“You won't get caught.”

Dean left. The guards took Cole back to his cell.

The corridor was quiet. The fluorescent lights hummed.

The cell door opened. Cole stepped inside. The door closed.

He pressed his ear against the wall.

“Piper?”

Silence.

“Piper, it's Cole.”

A soft tapping came from the other side. Three knocks. Then two.

“I heard,” she whispered. “The hearing. The judge gave you a day.”

“How did you hear?”

“The guards talk. They think I'm asleep.” A pause. “Did you see her? Petra?”

“She was there. In the courtroom.”

“She's brave. Coming out of hiding like that.”

“She's desperate. Like me.”

Cole slid down the wall. He sat on the cold floor.

“Piper, when you saw the SUV, did you see anything else? A license plate? A distinctive feature?”

“No. It was dark. But the man... he walked with a limp. His left leg. He favored it.”

Cole's mind raced. His father didn't have a limp. Clark didn't either.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I watched him cross the street. He was limping.”

A new piece. A man in a military uniform with a limp. That could be someone else. Someone Cole didn't know.

“Thank you, Piper. That helps.”

“I wish I could do more.”

“You've done enough.”

Cole lay back on the concrete. He stared at the ceiling.

The limp. That was something concrete. Something the police could investigate. If they believed him.

But they didn't. And Velez would do everything to make sure they never did.

The hours passed. Lunch came. A sandwich. An apple. Cole ate mechanically.

At 2 PM, the door opened.

“Visitor.”

Dean stepped in. Behind him was a woman in a long coat. Her face was hidden by a scarf and sunglasses.

The door closed. The woman pulled off the scarf.

Petra Hawthorne.

Cole stood up. His legs felt weak.

“You came.”

“You asked.” Her voice was quiet. Steady. But her hands were shaking.

Dean stood by the door. “Five minutes. I'll keep watch.”

He stepped outside. The door closed partway. Enough privacy. Enough to hear if someone came.

Petra walked closer. She stopped three feet from Cole.

“I saw you at the courthouse yesterday,” she said. “You looked right at me.”

“I didn't know who you were. Not then.”

“And now?”

“Now I know you're the only person who can save me.”

Petra pulled off her sunglasses. Her eyes were red. She had been crying.

“I don't know if anyone can save you, Cole. The people who killed Lauren... they're powerful. They have money. They have connections.”

“I don't care how powerful they are. I need the truth.”

Petra reached into her coat. She pulled out a small flash drive. Blue plastic. No markings.

“This is what Lauren hid. Files. Documents. Recordings. She gave it to me a week before she died. She said if anything happened to her, I should give it to you.”

Cole reached for the drive. Petra pulled it back.

“Not yet. First, I need to know. Did you love her?”

The question hit Cole like a fist.

“Yes. I loved her. Even when we fought. Even when I drank too much. I loved her.”

Petra's eyes filled with tears.

“She loved you too. That's why she didn't tell you about the files. She was trying to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?”

Petra pressed the flash drive into his palm.

“From the truth about your father.”

Cole's fingers closed around the plastic. It felt warm. Alive.

“What's on it?”

“Proof that Charles Mathers is alive. Proof that he's been running a covert intelligence operation from inside Aegis Solutions. And proof that he ordered Lauren's death because she threatened to expose him.”

Cole's hand shook.

“Why would Lauren threaten him?”

“Because she found out that your father was the one who had your mother institutionalized. Not Alzheimer's. He drugged her to keep her quiet.”

The room spun.

“My mother... she's not sick?”

“She was poisoned. Slowly. Over years. When she started remembering things she shouldn't, your father had her locked away.”

Cole grabbed the wall to steady himself.

“How do you know this?”

“Lauren told me. She had medical records. Toxicology reports. Everything.” Petra wiped her eyes. “But your father found out she had the evidence. He sent someone to retrieve it. When Lauren refused to give it up, he had her killed.”

“Clark,” Cole whispered. “Clark did it.”

Petra shook her head. “No. Clark wasn't the trigger man. He was there, but he didn't pull the trigger. He tried to stop it.”

“Then who?”

“I don't know. The files might say. I never looked at everything. I was too scared.”

Cole looked at the flash drive in his palm.

“Why didn't you go to the police?”

“Because the police are owned by your father. Detective Marsh works for Aegis. So does half the department.”

“Then I'll go to the press.”

“They'll kill you before you make the first call.”

Cole put the flash drive in his pocket. He could feel it against his thigh.

“Then I'll find a way. I have to.”

Petra stepped closer. She was close enough to touch.

“Cole, there's something else. Something I didn't tell you.”

“What?”

“The night Lauren died... I wasn't just in the backyard. I was inside the house. I saw everything.”

Cole's blood ran cold.

“You saw the killer?”

“I saw his face.” Petra's voice broke. “It wasn't Clark. It wasn't your father. It was someone else. Someone I recognized.”

“Who?”

Petra grabbed Cole's hands. Her grip was desperate.

“Frankie. The man who helped you escape. The one who calls himself a former medic.”

Cole's heart stopped.

“Frankie killed Lauren?”

“He was wearing the uniform. Lieutenant Colonel insignia. He was limping because his leg was injured in Afghanistan. The same ambush he blamed on your father.”

“That doesn't make sense. Frankie hates my father. Why would he work for him?”

“Because he doesn't. Frankie killed Lauren to frame your father. To draw him out of hiding. You were just the pawn.”

Cole pulled his hands away. He stumbled backward.

“You're lying.”

“I wish I was.” Petra was crying now. “I've been hiding because I didn't know who to trust. Frankie pretended to help you, but he's the one who pulled the trigger.”

Cole's mind raced. Frankie's words came back.

“Your father was a traitor. He got my friends killed.”

But Frankie had also said he was hunting Charles Mathers for a decade. Killing Lauren to frame Charles... that was twisted. But possible.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because Frankie knows you're out. He knows you're close to the truth. And he'll kill you before he lets you expose him.”

The door opened. Dean stepped in.

“Time's up. Guards are coming.”

Petra pulled her scarf back over her face. She put on her sunglasses.

“Trust no one, Cole. Not even me.”

She walked out.

Dean looked at Cole. “What did she give you?”

Cole's hand went to his pocket. The flash drive was still there.

“The truth. Or another lie. I don't know which.”

“Can you use it?”

“Not from in here.” Cole looked at Dean. “I need to get out. For real this time. No staged escapes. No tricks.”

“How?”

Cole walked to the door. He looked through the small window. The hallway was empty.

“The hearing tomorrow. When they take me to court, there will be a moment. In the tunnel between the holding cells and the courtroom. No cameras. No guards for thirty seconds.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I used to teach here. This courthouse was built in the 1970s. The tunnel is a blind spot.”

Dean shook his head. “If you run, you'll never clear your name. You'll be a fugitive forever.”

“I'm already a fugitive. The only difference is the walls.”

Dean was quiet for a long moment. Then he nodded.

“I'll create a distraction. A fire alarm. Something. You'll have sixty seconds, not thirty.”

“That's enough.”

“And if you get caught?”

“Then I'll take the deal and rot in prison. But at least I'll know I tried.”

Dean opened the door. “Good luck, Cole. You're going to need it.”

He walked away.

Cole sat down on the concrete. He pulled out the flash drive. He stared at it.

Frankie. The man who had given him a gun. The man who had saved him from the rain. The man who had told him about his father.

The same man who had killed Lauren.

Or so Petra said.

But Petra was hiding something too. Cole could feel it. The way she held back. The way her eyes darted.

Everyone was lying.

Everyone had an agenda.

The only truth was the flash drive in his hand.

And tomorrow, he would run.

Not away from justice.

Toward it.

---

End of Chapter 6

The lights in the cell flickered. Once. Twice. Then went out.

Complete darkness.

Cole stood up. His hand found the wall. Cold concrete. He waited.

A whisper came from the other side of the wall.

“Cole? The power is out. All of it.” Piper's voice. Excited. Scared. “I can hear the guards shouting. Something's happening.”

The door clicked.

Not unlocked. Just... clicked.

Cole pushed. The door swung open.

The hallway was dark. Emergency lights flickered red at the far end. No guards in sight.

He stepped out.

The flash drive was in his pocket. The gun was gone—confiscated after his recapture. But he had something better.

He had a chance.

Cole ran.