Jake
“I’ve seen him.”
Four words.
That was all it took to turn a courthouse hallway into something else entirely.
I looked at Emma. “You’re sure?”
Her eyes stayed on Nash’s phone, where Trent Ashby’s contractor photo filled the screen.
“I’m not saying I’m sure he stole my records. I’m saying I’ve seen his face.” She pointed at the picture. “He was at Dr. Chen’s clinic. The day of my appointment.”
Nash enlarged the photo.
“Could’ve been there legitimately,” he said. “Ashby’s company services that building.”
“I know.”
Emma didn’t sound defensive. She sounded focused.
“But he had the bag.”
That got my attention.
“What bag?”
“The canvas one from the security footage. Red patch on the strap. Crooked stitching.” She looked at me. “I told you about it.”
Yeah.
She had.
And I remem
