THE NEXT EVENING, FRIDAY, I was preparing to go into the church to say Evening Prayer when my cell phone rang. It was Anna.
“Hi,” I said, answering. “What’s up?”
“Tom,” Anna said. She sounded strange.
“Is everything okay, Anna? Is something wrong?”
“Why didn’t you tell me that woman’s report was going to air tonight?”
“What are you talking about? I haven’t spoken to Katherine Shepp since my interview. That was over a week ago.”
“It’s on right now,” Anna said. “You better turn it on.”
I hung up and ran down the stairs to the office. I turned on the small TV.
“...recently retold the story of that night,” the disembodied voice of Katherine Shepp said. On the screen was the video of me recounting the night of Jane’s murder. It went on for about a minute, then cut back to a shot
