Brian nodded and swallowed. “You know you don’t have to do this because you’re feeling sorry for me or anything.” He wrung his hands. “I know what I told you last night, but you don’t need to—”
Hilliard shook his head. “I don’t. I have had lots of clients in my career. Some have been innocent, and others have been guilty as sin. I’m too jaded to do things like spend my money because I feel sorry for someone. I’m doing this because I need to get the house up to snuff, regardless of whether I stay, and you do good work.” He knew himself well enough to be honest.
Brian looked beaten down for a second before his mask of civility fell back into place. “Well, okay, then. I’ll put everything together tonight.”
“Excellent. Maybe we can meet at the pub for breakfast to go over what you have, and then we can plan things going forward.” He wasn’t ready to tell Brian what he had found about his case. He wanted to see if he could get more information and develop a plan of his own, because as Brian had been convicted, it wasn’t as simple as just poking holes. He needed to find solid evidenceto present to the court and ideally figure out who had actually committed the crime. He also didn’t want to give Brian hope if he couldn’t deliver. The sadness that filled Brian’s eyes when he thought Hilliard wasn’t looking… it tugged at his heart. He wanted to do something about it, but he couldn’t give Brian false hope.
“Okay. I can do that.”
“Eight, then,” Hilliard offered, and Brian agreed. “Then I’ll let you get back to work.” It seemed he had plenty more to do himself. House chores were not his favorite thing, but digging into a legal mystery? That really got his heart pumping. So once Brian left to get started, Hilliard put off his shower and practically bounded back upstairs to research procedures in California, as well as try to figure out what he would need to do to have a chance to overturn Brian’s conviction.
HILLIARD YAWNEDas he descended the sturdy new steps in front of the house. He strode toward the business portion of the village as he pulled on a sweatshirt to ward off the cool, damp air. Not much had changed since his visits years ago. The town still looked like something out of a different time. The homes all had a feel of having been there for decades, and some of the buildings looked like they would be more at home in a Maine whaling village than California. Aunt Grace used to tell him stories of when episodes ofMurder, She Wrotewere filmed in town. She had even gotten a part as an extra, so she always said she was also a resident of Cabot Cove.
Hilliard entered the pub and waited a few minutes for Brian before the hostess led them out to the covered patio area at the side of the building. “Did you walk down?” Brian asked. “The dogs saw me leaving and had a fit that I wasn’t taking them along.”
“I can just imagine.” Brian looked amazing in tight chinos and a blue polo shirt that hugged his work-hardened chest. The man was a walking wet dream as far as Hilliard was concerned, and he lost his train of thought for a few seconds, simply staring at Brian like some sort of idiot.
“Yeah. They made such a ruckus that they woke Gran. I thought about bringing them with me, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to sit outside on a day like today,” Brian went on, and thankfully Hilliard was able to pull his attention back where it should be.
“I like being outside and the fresh air. Even if the clouds are in and it’s a little windy and damp.” The marine layer had settled in thick over the town. “You could have brought the dogs. It would have been okay.” He was coming to like them. They were loud sometimes, but that was because they were excited, and there were worse things than dogs being excited to see him. Hilliard picked up a menu from the center of the table. “I’ve never been here before.”
“They have great omelets,” Brian said and set down his menu. When the server returned, he ordered. Hilliard picked one with bacon and ham. “I thought I’d review the estimates. Painting the house is mostly some prep work, removing loose paint, and then taping off the windows and such. I can do that on a day when the sun is out and there isn’t too much wind.” He had an estimate that Hilliard found reasonable. “We can get the prep done ahead of time and then paint once the weather is right. I’ll prep the steps at the same time. The fence is another issue. I’m going to need to replace some posts and crosspieces. There are places where the damp has gotten in. That will take some work, but then we can spray that as well and get it looking good.”
He had estimates for all of it and had factored in Hilliard buying the paint. The wallpaper estimate surprised him. “What’s this?”
“The wallpaper is from the fifties or sixties, and it’s going to take time to get it off, wash down the walls of residual adhesive, and then sand and paint. This is a best guess. It could be more or less. And there is the possibility of asbestos in a house this old.”
All the estimates seemed like they were possible. What Hilliard needed to do was take stock of his funds on hand and make some decisions about what he was going to do with his life. Going back to Cleveland was not particularly attractive. He would have money coming when his ex-asshole bought him out of their partnership, but he would need that to start up something new.
“Let’s go ahead and start with the outside. Those tasks need to be done because they’re visible. The painting inside we can see about once the rest is done.” He initialed the estimates that he was ready to go ahead with. “Now, I have something else I need to speak with you about.” He wasn’t sure how to broach the subject, because while Brian had told him about his past, he hadn’t gone any further. “I looked into what happened.”
“I see,” Brian said, and Hilliard wasn’t sure if he was going to be angry or not.
“I told you I had already looked into your background. It’s a lawyer thing. We see people with plenty of issues, legal and otherwise, so we become super anal about knowing who we’re dealing with. Anyway… whoever handled your case did not do a good job. We could appeal the conviction on a number of grounds, including inadequate representation, but if you want, I think we should look at this from another point of view.”
“That I’m out of prison and should just get on with my life,” Brian said flatly.
If that was what he wanted, Hilliard would certainly keep out of it.
“That’s what Gran told me. She says she knows I didn’t do it and worries that if I stir it all up again, I’m only going to have a harder time.” He sighed softly.
“You’re welcome to do that and just move on. There is no shame in that sort of plan, and looking forward is always best. I tell my clients that all the time. But I believe you didn’t do it, and the police simply looked no further once they had you in their sights.”
Brian leaned closer. “What do you suggest?”
“Well, first, we follow some logic. If you didn’t rob that house, then who did?” He held Brian’s confused gaze. Digging into the case had answered some questions for him, including why Violet Trainer had acted the way she did. He was pretty sure she was the one who kept the town stirred up against Brian.
The server brought their food, but Brian didn’t touch his. “Please eat,” Hilliard said gently. He knew these sorts of sessions were stressful and that Brian was reliving a very painful time in his life. “How we go forward is up to you.”
Brian sat still, and those huge eyes seemed to be searching for something. Hilliard felt their heat on him, but he refused to glance away. If Brian wanted his help, he’d be there for him. And if he wanted to walk away, then he’d abide by those wishes as well. “I don’t know what to think. Maybe it’s best to just let the past stay there.”
Hilliard nodded. “Except is it really staying there?” he asked, and Brian shook his head.
“No. It seems to be all that anyone here talks about. Gran won’t hear anything against me, and I love her for that, but….”
“You have other people in your corner. At least Ruth seemed to be,” Hilliard said.
Brian half smiled and nodded. “She and Gran have been friends for years. When Gramps died and I was accused, Ruth stepped in to help Gran. While I was away, she was one whochecked on Gran, and she even wrote me letters to let me know how Gran was doing.” He swallowed hard, and Hilliard found himself aching to wipe that sadness off Brian’s face. He seemed so beaten down, and Hilliard could tell he hadn’t always been that way.