“What are you saying? You think he’s guilty?”
“No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying there’s no point in putting blinders on. You said it yourself. We have to see the bad facts as wel as the good facts, right? If we ever want to convince a jury. And right now I think we have more bad facts than good. Which means, I guess, that we have to raise our game. We have more work to do.”
Camila was distracted. She was watching the house. Hannah turned to see what she was looking at. One of the girls, the older daughter—Sophia had cal ed her Beth, hadn’t she?—had come out.
She had a basketbal —there was a hoop attached to the wal of the garage—and as they watched she started to dribble the bal and take shots at the hoop. Her attention was on the car though. She kept shooting smal glances their way.
“What’s that about?” Camila said.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think she wants to talk to us?”
The girl stopped dribbling, stopped shooting, and turned, bal in hand, to stare at them.
“What do we do?” Camila said.
“If Sophia sees us, she’l cal the cops. Round here that means the sheriff’s office. As in, Sheriff Pierce.”
“Let’s walk,” Camila said. She didn’t wait for Hannah’s reply, just got out of the car and started walking down the sidewalk away from the house. Hannah hesitated, then hurried after her.
“What about the car? If Sophia looks out of the window and sees it . . .”
“Wel , we’re just walking. We’re walking away from her house.
The car is parked on the street. Nothing il egal about any of that.”
Camila was nervous, Hannah could hear it in her voice, but she stil turned her head and smiled at Beth with the basketbal , before they walked on.
“Is she fol owing?” Camila asked after a moment.
“I don’t know,” Hannah said. “Not yet, I think.”
“Let’s give her a minute.”
They kept going, down the street.
“How much farther are we going to go?” said Hannah.
There was a smal park with swings and a climbing gym at the end of the street. “There,” Camila said, nodding in the direction of the park. “Let’s go there.”
They sat on the swings and waited.
“You’re right, by the way,” said Camila.
“About?”
“I shouldn’t have blinders on about the case. It won’t help our client. I’l do a better job, keep an open mind.”
“Right,” said Hannah. She looked at her shoes.
“There she is,” said Camila.
Hannah looked up to see Elizabeth Prosper-Reynolds making her way down the street toward them, basketbal stil under one arm. It seemed to take a long time for her to reach the park and when she did there was no hesitation. She walked right up to them.
“It’s Beth, right?” said Hannah.
The girl nodded. She was pretty, like her mother, though her eyes were brown instead of blue. She had changed out of her riding pants and boots into a pair of sweats, sneakers, and a T-shirt.
“I’m Hannah. Were you wondering why we were talking to your mother?”
Beth shook her head. “No.”
“Because you overheard?” Hannah said.
“Yes. You were asking about my uncle.”
“That’s right,” said Hannah. She had no idea what to say next.
Turned out she didn’t have to say anything.
“I know where he lives,” Beth said. “And so does my mother. She lied to you. And I heard what you said. This is about that guy, Dandridge, right? I read about him online. Do you real y think he’s innocent?”
Hannah hesitated, but Beth rushed on. She was flushed, worked up.
“I mean, if he’s innocent, then we have to do the right thing, right?
We have to tell the truth.” She scowled. “It’s just so typical of my mother. Say one thing and do another. Like, there’s always a double standard. She goes on and on at me about always tel ing the truth, but she lies al the time.”
“Do you know where we can find your uncle Neil, Beth?”
“If I tel you, are you going to tel him you found out from me? Wil you tel my mother?”
“Absolutely not,” Camila said. “Whatever you tel us we’l keep strictly between us.”
The girl reached a hand into the pocket of her jacket. She drew out a folded piece of paper and thrust it toward Hannah. “We visited him last year.” Then she stared at the piece of paper in Hannah’s hands, as if she wished she could take it back. “Don’t tel them I told you,” she said again. And she wheeled away back the way she had come, bouncing the bal every few steps. Hannah waited a moment before unfolding the piece of paper.