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Florence, Colorado.

I set it down and stare at it. I don’t know that I want to read what Viviana has to say. I busy myself with unpacking, and I place an order for Greek food to be delivered at seven. But I keep looking at the letter, not sure what to do.

Finally, I can’t take it any longer and open it.

My dearest friend Mia,

I miss you terribly. There is so much I’d like to talk to you about. I am lonely here so far away from my family and friends. I spend twenty-three hours a day in my seven by twelve foot concrete cell. I miss our late night calls and drinks with the girls. There are days I don’t see anyone since my meals slide in through a hole in the door.

Thankfully, I can work out in my cell. I’m in the best shape I’ve ever been in, but what I wouldn’t give for a day at a spa and a mani-pedi.

I read like crazy. I’m grateful for the book mail I get from so many strangers who, like you, know I couldn’t have done anything to Cecelia. She was my friend. I adore Nate. You know I never could have done this and I’m just a fall girl for deep money. I can’t even believe they think I have ties to Russia. I was born in Merced, California, for God’s sake.

My lawyer tells me you’ve started a dating app and you’ve met someone. I’m so glad you kicked Justin to the curb. We all deserve someone who is devoted to us, and he wasn’t worthy of you. I want to know all about this new guy. What does he look like? What does he do? Does he like baseball as much as you do? And I want the dirty details. Give me something for the self-love file.

I can have five visits a month. Please come see me. During your testimony, you looked tired and so thin. I know that makes your mother proud, but you’re beautiful no matter what. You’re on my approved visitor’s list. You only need to contact the prison and they’ll give you the details of what you need to do when you arrive.

I look forward to seeing you soon.

Viviana

I must reread this a half-dozen times. It’s full of half-truths. I finally take a photo of the letter and send it off to Marci before I get up and set the table for dinner, just to have something to do.

It’s not even been five minutes when my phone rings. Before I can say hello, Marci asks, “Are you okay?”

I look at my hand, and it’s trembling. “I think so.”

“When did the letter arrive?” she probes.

“I can’t be sure. I only pick my mail up every few days, and I’ve been out of town in New York.”

“Can Walker and I come over?” Marci asks quietly. “We’d like to see the letter in person.”

“Of course. I suppose they’re going to take it into evidence?”

Marci expels a long breath. “Most likely.”

“You’re welcome to come over when you’re ready. I ordered Greek, if you’d like to stay for dinner.”

“That sounds perfect. Is Axel with you?”

“No, he’s at home talking to his sister right now. But he will be back shortly.”

“We’ll be down in about twenty minutes,” Marci says. “There’s nothing that implicates you, but I can tell what questions her lawyers are going to ask when you testify. See you shortly.”

I make a quick scan of the document, which will be easier to read than the photo, and I store it on a private drive, just in case I need it later. The federal prosecutors might decide to hold on to the letter.

I don’t want to interrupt Axel, so I send a text to Jim.

Me: Don’t interrupt Axel, but I received a letter from Viv. Marci and Walker are on their way over. Come when you guys can get away. They’re staying for dinner. I hope you like Greek.

Jim immediately texts back.

Jim: We’re just wrapping up. Can you send me a copy of the letter?

 

Me: Emailed it to you.

 

Jim: Got it. We’ll see you within the hour.

I’ve just called the restaurant to add to my dinner order when my buzzer rings. Jennifer gets the door, and Walker and his team of US Marshals follow Marci as they stream into my home.

Marci hugs me close. “How are you doing?”

I nod. “Pretty good, all things considered. I’m sorry if I wasn’t supposed to open the letter.”

Marci purses her lips. “It’s your mail. You can read it. The letter went through screeners at the prison, so it’s not likely that she’s hidden anything in the document.”

“May I see the original?” Walker asks.

I point to the coffee table in my living room. Walker pulls plastic gloves from his pocket and two evidence bags from his back pocket. “I’ve alerted Abram Frieman, the US Attorney in Oregon, that you received this.”

“Is she not allowed to mail me anything?”

“It could be considered witness tampering,” Walker says.

I close my eyes and rub my fingers over my forehead. I think I have a migraine beginning.

“I would bet Viviana didn’t expect that you’d tell anyone you got this letter,” Marci muses. “Her reminding you of her relationship with Cecelia and Nate would meet the level of coercion. She must know that.”

Jennifer pokes her head in. “Jim just let me know they’re on their way.”

“Thank you, Jennifer. There’ll be plenty of food for you, too.”

“I appreciate that, ma’am. I’ll be downstairs waiting for them,” she tells me.

I pour Walker and Axel their bourbon. And Marci wants wine, so she’ll be enjoying the same pinot grigio that I am.

We talk about our trip to New York while we wait for Jim and

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