When did this happen?
They were found in the early hours of Sunday morning in a barn outside of town. Trey negotiated the narrow streets of Lancaster with ease. Thomas was passed out, drunk. Cherry had apparently been dead for several hours, if the rumors are true, and they usually are.
Hes been in custody over twenty-four hours? Her voice rose. Without an attorney?
Relax, Counselor, he said. A local attorney has been handling the situation, basically advising the boy to say nothing. The local man doesnt want to continue with the case, though.
Trey sounded as if he didnt blame the man.
In fact, if Trey was right, the entire community was convinced of the boys guilt. Everyone, apparently, except Geneva Morgan.
A random thought popped into her mind. The newspaper piece shed read-
Your mother tried to speak with Thomas when he was being taken into the police station, didnt she?
She could almost hear his teeth grinding.
Yes. She did. Except that it was when he was being taken to the county jail. The newspaper got that wrong. Fortunately they didnt get her name, either. He clamped his lips shut on the words.
It didnt take a genius to figure out that Trey was worried about his mother. Shed give him credit for that, although she wasnt convinced Geneva needed all that protection.
Jessica subsided, staring out the window at the fields on both sides of the road, lush and green. White farmhouses sat well back from the road, as if to protect their privacy. Here and there she spotted people working in the fields, looking like figures in a landscape painting.
Amish, Trey said, nodding at one farmhouse. You can tell because no power lines go to the house.
No electricity. She tried to imagine it. What about phones?
Treys shoulders moved in a shrug. Not in the house. Often theres a phone shanty at the edge of the field, so they can use a phone for business or in an emergency.
This was the life her client had led. She tried to reconcile it with drunken parties and found she couldnt.
Springville appeared-a collection of shops and a few restaurants facing the road, with residential areas spread out behind them. She took a second look at the Springville Inn, where the dead woman had worked. A visit to talk with her coworkers might be in order.
Then they were in the countryside again. Neat farms, neat houses, twin silos flanking barns, contented-looking cows grazing in fieldsit was like something off a calendar.
The truck overtook a gray horse-drawn buggy. Trey passed with care, raising a hand to the driver. The bearded man nodded, face impassive, and the two towheaded children with him grinned and waved.
They know you, she said. She thought again of the pair in the buggy shed met earlier. Theyd known the Morgan family, too.
I know most people in the township. Morgans have been here for a long time.
She let that revolve in her mind. If he knew the place that well, she couldnt ignore his sense of what the community believed about this crime.
Farmland gave way abruptly to residential areas, a few strip malls, and then they were in Lancaster proper. Trey wove his way through a maze of narrow streets easily, still wearing a slight frown. No doubt hed like to divorce himself from this proceeding entirely.
The county jail is in the next block, he said at last. Anything else you need to know before you see Thomas?
Just one question. She probably shouldnt ask this, but she was going to, because when you were swimming in a strange ocean, it helped to know who the sharks were. Given how you feel about the case, why did you want to come with me?
The stone jaw returned with a vengeance. I dont want my mother involved in this at all. Shes too trusting, and she doesnt have the slightest idea how serious it is. But if I cant stop her, Im at least going to make sure its handled appropriately. He pulled into a parking space and stopped, turning to face her, crowding her in the small space. You do one thing to turn this situation into a media circus or to manipulate my mother, and Ill make you wish youd never heard of the Morgan family.
Well, that was clear enough. She had a client who was probably guilty, an employer who was acting on instinct and a very formidable man who was determined to dog her every step. And she hadnt even met the client yet.
CHAPTER THREE
THE ROOM ALLOTTED TO lawyer/client meetings was typical of such places-cement-block walls, a high barred window and a bare wooden table bolted to the floor, flanked by two chairs. The wire-meshed window in the door allowed a police officer to peer in on the conference but hear nothing.
Trey Morgan had walked with her through the maze of corridors. Hed seemed to know, or at least been recognized by, most of the people they encountered, and hed had an easy, laid-back manner for everyone but her. Shed half expected him to try to stay with her, not that shed have allowed it, but he hadnt, merely saying hed be outside in the truck when she finished with Thomas.
Jessica tried not to fidget as she waited for the client, but she couldnt forget that Thomas Esch had been accused of beating a woman to death. Any normal woman would feel a sliver of anxiety in this situation. The table was only about three feet wide. If he decided to come after her, how long would it take the guard to get to her?
Nonsense. Shed certainly confronted worse during the three years shed spent as an assistant D.A., prosecuting domestic-abuse cases. Shed burned out on that, finally, unable to look at another battered woman, knowing chances were good that the woman would change her mind about prosecuting at the last minute and go right back to her abuser, maybe ending up dead.
Nonsense. Shed certainly confronted worse during the three years shed spent as an assistant D.A., prosecuting domestic-abuse cases. Shed burned out on that, finally, unable to look at another battered woman, knowing chances were good that the woman would change her mind about prosecuting at the last minute and go right back to her abuser, maybe ending up dead.
Thered been value in the work, certainly, but nobody could do it forever. Her father had been relieved that she had come to her senses, as he put it. From the day she passed the bar, hed been ready to set up a position for her with a good firm. Thered also been his unspoken opinion that she wasnt tough enough to deal with criminal cases. Unspoken, maybe, but it had come through. Too bad he hadnt had the son hed always wanted to follow his footsteps.
The door creaked, startling Jessica into an involuntary flinch. It opened. Two burly guards dwarfed the boy they ushered into the room.
At her first glimpse of Thomas Esch, the apprehension slipped away. He was nothing more than a boy, with frightened blue eyes in a round face and blond hair that looked as if someone had put a bowl on his head and cut around it.
She stood, giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. Hello, Thomas. Im Jessica Langdon. Im the lawyer Mrs. Morgan hired to defend you. She held out her hand.
Thomas looked at the outstretched hand as if it held a trap and then cautiously shook it. His palm was hard with calluses, and her opinion pivoted again. He might look like a boy, but he was strong as a man.
Strong enough to beat a woman to death? Thomas was innocent until proved guilty in the eyes of the law, if not the community. He deserved that same assumption from his attorney.
She sat again, nodding to the chair opposite her. Still looking uncertain, Thomas slid onto the seat, moving back as if to get as far away from her as possible.
She waited until the door closed behind the guards, its slam resonating through the bare chamber. She focused on the client, keeping her mind away from the locked door.
Thomas, do you understand that Mrs. Morgan wants to help you?
He nodded, eyes still very wide, not blinking.
Good. Shes helping you by retaining-hiring-me to represent you with the law.
He looked down at his hands. Mrs. Morgan is very kind. He swallowed, Adams apple moving.
At least he could talk. His speech was formal, like that of the young pair in the buggy, and she remembered Treys doubts over her ability to represent the boy when she knew nothing of his culture.
That was ridiculous. The law was the law, no matter what the defendants background.
Thomas, I want you to understand that anything you say to me is private. I cant tell anyone, and you can trust me.
His only answer was to stare at his hands-big hands, bony and strong. Strong enough to kill. Did he get any of this? She couldnt be sure, and her frustration rose.
Mrs. Morgan wants me to help you, she tried again. But I can only do that if you talk to me about what happened.
He looked at her face then away again. My parents-they would not want me to be involved with the law.
Trey had said something like that, but shed disregarded it. Apparently she should have paid more attention. Mrs. Morgan spoke with them about hiring me, and they agreed. And Im afraid its too late, anyway. You are already involved. The police believe you killed Cherry.
There was no mistaking the emotion behind his expression now: fear. She expected a denial, but he was silent.
Did you and Cherry see a lot of each other?
He shrugged. Sometimes at parties she would talk to me.
Were you dating? Did you go out just with her?
He shook his head, the muscles in his face working.
You were found alone with her. Did you go out together that night? Saturday night?
Again he shook his head.
Thomas, you were found with her. You must have gone out together, or how did you get there?
The other lawyer. He said not to talk to anyone. Not to answer questions.
Hes not representing you now. I am.
His face took on a mulish expression. Mr. Frost said not to talk to anyone. Not to answer questions. I know him.
The implication was clear. Thomas didnt know her. He didnt trust her. Would it do any good if she could arrange for Mrs. Morgan to talk with him? She could imagine Treys reaction to that.
Suppose I talk to Mr. Frost. If he tells you its all right, will you answer my questions?
The big hands tightened briefly, then relaxed. He nodded.
She blew out a breath. Patience. Obviously that was what was required just now. Plenty of patience.
All right, then. Thats what Ill do. Ill bring Mr. Frost to vouch for me. She stood, repressing the instinct that wanted to demand answers, to move, to get on with the case. She could do nothing without her clients trust.