Page 47 of Motion to Dismiss

I nod, expecting that.

“For the record, I can assure you that I gave my all to Mr. Tate’s case, and there was nothing I missed at the crime scene—no panties or pajamas in a drawer—nothing. Clear?”

“Crystal. Thank you for your time, Mr. Hansel.” I extend my hand as he stands.

“I’m looking forward to hearing more questions at the evening session,” he says. “You asked some pretty good ones in here.”

“One last thing, sir,” I say as I collect the unwanted swag.

“Yes?”

“I never mentioned anything about panties or pajamas in a drawer.” I look him directly in the eyes. “How did you know anything about that?”

“I didn’t say anything about a drawer.”

“You did…” I narrow my eyes at him. “I heard you.”

His fake smile fades, and his jaw clenches.

“What did you mean by that?” I ask again. “A drawer of panties and pajamas at the crime scene, perhaps?”

“No.” He steps closer to me, his eyes narrowing. “This case is closed, Rachel. Mr. Tate did it, and I did the best I could.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

I leave his session without another word, my heart aching for Jameson.

CONVICTION (N.):

THE RESULT OF A CRIMINAL TRIAL IN WHICH THE DEFENDANT HAS BEEN FOUND GUILTY OF A CRIME.

JAMESON

Two Weeks Later

Ipark my car outside Pennsylvania State Corrections and remove my watch and cufflinks.

Tucking them inside my cupholder, I stare at the massive concrete building and hope this is one of the last times I ever have to come here.

I start to power off my phone, but a call from an unknown number flashes across my screen.

“Jameson Tate speaking,” I say. “Who is this?”

“This is Ryan Hunter, sir,” a familiar voice says. “Um, I was wondering if you could meet with my new legal team sometime soon? My father said he would be sharing a joint plan with them, but they haven’t received it yet.”

There’s nothing for them to receive.

“I think you should talk to your father about that.”

“He told me he was staying in one of your condos,” he says. “Something about that being part of his arraignment deal?”

Your father is a fucking liar.

“I’ll call you back this evening, Ryan,” I say. “I’m about to go into a meeting.”

“Do you promise, Mr. Tate?”

“Yes,” I say, meaning it. “I promise.”