Part 16:

His phone rang. Rebecca Marsh. You made it? Yeah, we’re here. Good. I’ve been coordinating with the prosecutors. They want you in for the grand jury hearing next Wednesday. That gives us 5 days to prep. What about Kavanaaugh’s lawsuit? It’s noise. His lawyers are trying to muddy the waters, but the evidence is too strong.

 Frank Morrison’s testimony is helping. He corroborated everything you documented, plus added new details. She paused. Ethan, this is going to work. We’re going to win. Winning doesn’t bring back the four people who died. No, but it might prevent four more. After they hung up, Ethan sat on the couch in the unfamiliar house and let himself feel the weight of the past month.

 The threats, the isolation, the slow destruction of everything he’d built in Brier Glenn. His phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number. His stomach tightened, expecting another threat. But when he opened it, the message was different. Mr. Cross, this is Sarah Mitchell. You fixed my car in 2019.

 I heard what you’re doing. Thank you. He stared at the message for a long time. Sarah Mitchell, fractured spine, two kids, the woman who couldn’t afford $800 to fix an engine that later failed and nearly killed her. He typed back, “How are you doing?” The response came quickly. “Better? Still in pain some days, but alive. The lawsuit is moving forward.

 My lawyer says your documentation is the reason we have a case.” I’m sorry I didn’t do more back then. You did what you could. That’s more than most people. They texted back and forth for a while. She told him about her kids, about the settlement negotiations, about how she’d been following the news coverage.

 Before she signed off, she sent one more message. Don’t let them scare you. What you’re doing matters. Ethan set the phone down and felt something loosen in his chest. It wasn’t much, but it was something. The weekend passed slowly. Saturday, Ethan and Mia explored the property. There was a small pond out back, a path through the woods, a tire swing hanging from an old oak tree.

 Maya seemed to relax a bit, the strangeness becoming an adventure rather than a disruption. Sunday, Celeste called. How’s the house? Too nice for us. I’m afraid to touch anything. She laughed. It’s just a house. Break whatever you want. How’s the investigation going? Her tone shifted. Complicated.

 Kavanaaugh’s team leaked some internal emails to the press trying to make it look like I’ve been mismanaging the company for years. Stock dropped another 10%. I’m sorry. Don’t be. It’s worth it. She paused. The prosecutors told me about the grand jury hearing. You ready? I don’t know. Rebecca’s been sending me prep materials. It’s a lot. You’ll do fine.

Just tell the truth. That’s what everyone keeps saying. That’s because it’s true. She hesitated. Ethan, after this is over, after the hearing, after everything settles, what are you going to do? Go back to Brier Glenn, rebuild the shop, try to get customers back. What if they don’t come back? He’d been trying not to think about that.

 Then I’ll figure something else out. You could work for me. Corporate safety oversight. Make sure this never happens again. Ethan almost laughed. You want to hire the guy who exposed your company’s cover up? I want to hire the guy who gives a damn about doing things right. Think about it. After they hung up, Ethan did think about it, but he couldn’t picture it.

 Working in an office, wearing a tie, being part of the corporate machinery he’d spent 10 years documenting. It didn’t fit. Monday morning, Rebecca drove up to the house to start serious prep. They sat at the kitchen table while Maya watched cartoons in the other room, and Rebecca walked him through every question the prosecutors would ask.

 They’re going to want specifics, dates, VIN numbers, failure descriptions. Don’t guess. If you don’t remember something exactly, say, “So, I have the notebooks. Can I bring them?” No. Grand jury testimony is from memory, but you can reference them during prep. She flipped through her notes. They’ll also ask about your relationship with Celeste Vaughn when you first met, what she asked for, what you told her.

 We went over this with the prosecutors. We’re going over it again. Kavanaaugh’s lawyers are going to claim you two conspired. We need your timeline airtight. They spent 6 hours going through questions. By the end, Ethan’s head hurt and he’d drunk four cups of coffee. Tuesday, Rebecca brought mock questions and played devil’s advocate.

hitting him with hostile cross-examination style queries about his motives, his methods, his memory. Isn’t it true you were fired from Celeste Motors in 2013? I was laid off, not fired. Semantics, Mr. Cross, you lost your job shortly after submitting a report critical of the company.

 Sounds like retaliation to me. It was restructuring. They eliminated multiple positions. Convenient timing, though, wasn’t it? I don’t know. I wasn’t the one making those decisions. Rebecca nodded. Good. Stay calm. Don’t get defensive. Just state facts. They ran through scenarios for hours. By evening, Ethan felt rung out.

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