Page 99 of The 1 Lawyer

I said, “I’m sure you’re right.”

Memories of my own wife, Carrie Ann, came flooding in. Even after all this time, I still found it hard to believe she’d brought a lover into our bed. I’d never suspected that she was unfaithful. But who knows? It was possible that Caro knew his wife better than I’d known mine.

He met my eyes. “Do you want to hear my opinion? About my wife’s death?”

“Yes.” It was the absolute truth. I scooted forward until I was literally on the edge of my seat. I’d never been more eager to hear what Caro had to say, not even when he was paying me by the hour.

“I know you didn’t kill her. And that employee of yours, the law student—” He stopped, looked up at the branches above us. “Holmes? Is that her name?”

“Yes. Rue Holmes.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “She didn’t do it either.”

CHAPTER 78

RELIEF SWEPT over me when I heard Caro’s statement. I eased back in the chair, picked up the water glass, and drank, mentally composing an expression of gratitude for his refusal to buy into the dark theories surrounding Rue and me.

The waiter appeared just as I was about to speak. He set a martini glass in front of Caro and asked, “Do you gentlemen need dinner menus?”

“No,” I said. I had no intention of lingering.

But Caro overruled me. “Leave the menus. We’ll order in a bit.” When the waiter left, Caro lifted his martini glass and studied it before taking a sip.

I wanted to say my piece and make a quick departure. “Thanks so much, Daniel. I’m in your debt for arranging my release. It was incredibly generous, and I intend to repay you. I’m also grateful to hear that you understand that I’m not responsible for your tragedy. I can vouch for Ms. Holmes as well.” I stood and extended my hand.

He didn’t take it. He gave me a cool look and said, “I’d appreciate it if you’d give me a few more minutes of your time. Since, as you just said, you’re feeling beholden to me. You may recall that the last time we spoke, you were less than civil.”

That was an understatement. The last time I’d seen him, I’d had my hands around his throat. When he put it that way, it gave me no choice. I dropped back into the seat.

Caro picked up the olive skewer and used it to stir his drink. He leaned in close and said, “I’m aware that the Biloxi police are capable of chasing the wrong theory in a murder case.” Then he paused to eat one of the olives.

To fill the silence, I said, “That’s true. As a criminal defense attorney, I’ve seen it happen.”

“Well, I’ve observed it from personal experience,” Caro said. “The prosecution and the police nearly destroyed me when they accused me of killing Aurora.”

I couldn’t figure the guy out. His wife had been murdered, but he sat at Mary Mahoney’s calmly sipping a martini. He exhibited no pain, no anguish. He waited for me to respond. I gave a stiff nod, which seemed to satisfy him.

“I was a scapegoat,” he went on. “They had to pin the crime on someone, and I was the most convenient person. Her pregnancy, I suppose, made for a tidy theory. Something easy for them to comprehend.”

The courtyard was filling up with dinner customers. I said softly, “But they were unsuccessful. You were acquitted—the jury found you not guilty.”

“Exactly—not guilty. Those words don’t go far enough. That verdict isn’t exoneration. My reputation, every aspect of my life, is still sullied by that trial. I continue to live under a cloud.”

I was certain that the couple seated at the nearest table was eavesdropping. It was a relief when the waiter returned and asked, “Would you like to hear this evening’s specials?”

Caro held up a hand like he was making a royal gesture. “Not necessary. I’ll have the flounder imperial. And I’ll start with a cup of gumbo, of course.”

The waiter turned his attention to me. Oh, what the hell, I thought. If I had to remain here, I might as well sit back and enjoy it. There’s no better food this side of New Orleans. “Shrimp and crab au gratin, please. And the gumbo.”

When the waiter walked off, Caro continued. “So, as I was saying, I live under a cloud of suspicion. If you want confirmation, just look around.”

I did. When I focused on the table to my right, I caught a woman sneaking a glance at us. I stared her down. She looked away, flustered, and whispered something to her companion.

Caro sipped the martini. “You can see what I encounter, what I have to contend with. That’s why I bailed you out of jail. I want to hire you.”

That knocked me flat. “Excuse me?”

“Stafford Lee! Did you think I made your bond as a selfless act of mercy? Or because I felt sorry for you?” The corners of his eyes wrinkled with wry amusement. “I want to hire you to prove me innocent in the death of Aurora Gates.”

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