Page 44 of Defend Me

“Thank you, Patrick,” I say, shaking his hand. “Thank you so much.”

“Could you do me a favor?” he asks. “Could you please tell Noah I—I’d like to speak to him sometime. Apologize in person. If he’s willing.”

“I’ll pass along the message,” I say. I can’t guarantee anything—would Noah be willing to talk to Patrick? I don’t think I would want to hear an apology from the man who killed my mother. But then, I’m not Noah.

I tell Patrick I’ll be in touch again soon, then get back in the car, buzzing with excitement. There’s still one more thing to do before I can call Noah with the good news. I tell Alex to go back to the house in Riverview. Then we drive to Noah’s house and I time it. I instruct Alex to stop when we’re a block away—I can see the reporters gathered still, waiting for a glimpse of Noah. I check my clock. Eight minutes. So that’s a total of about twenty minutes from the tavern to the colonial to Noah’s house.

“Alex,” I say. “Take me to the estate.”

“You’re not going inside, miss?” he asks.

“No. I need to check something.”

Alex drives to the estate, where more reporters are camped out along the road. Dad must be furious. Alex again stops far enough away so that we’re unnoticed. Seven minutes. So twenty-six minutes of driving, plus the couple minutes he waited at Patrick’s and however long he was standing out on his dock, plus the time it would have taken him to supposedly get to the entrance to the garden, through the garden, to Mom’s pottery shed.

There’s no way Noah could have had time to murder Mom at six twenty-four in the morning if he left Dale’s Tavern at just before six. The timing doesn’t add up.

I can’t wait to give Noah the news. My fingers tremble as I call his number.

“Patrick Forrester remembers me?” he says after I relay everything that happened. “Von, this is amazing! Let’s tell the judge. Are you going to call Wilbur? They’ve got to dismiss the charges if I’ve got an alibi.”

“They do not have to dismiss the charges,” I tell him. “And I can guarantee you Judge Warner won’t—it’s going to take Patrick testifying at trial, in person, to exonerate you. The prosecution has a right to cross examine him. But he’s a solid witness, Noah. We want to keep this card as close to the vest for as long as possible. But…”

“But…”

A slow smile spreads across my face.

“There’s no way any jury in the world will convict you,” I say. “Not with this alibi.” We just went from fucked to victorious in the span of two days. “We could go to trial tomorrow and win.”

Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a bit, but I’m feeling triumphant. Exhilarated.

“Yes!” Noah cries. “Von, you’re incredible. I’ll make Lobster Thermidor tonight.”

I laugh. “Please don’t. I don’t want any lobsters murdered in my newly intuitive kitchen.”

I can hear the smile in his voice. “Good, because I don’t know how to make it anyway. Spaghetti and meatballs?”

My first thought isthat’s too many carbs. But then I think of how delicious my apartment will smell. “Deal,” I tell him.

My phone beeps with another call. It’s Isla.

“Noah, I gotta run, see you later,” I say. I change over to her call.

“This is Von Everton,” I say, then wince. Probably didn’t need to use my business greeting.

“Hi Von!” Isla says. “Noah told Charlotte you were in town. She’s going to take Pop up to Mr. Sanderson’s cabin later this afternoon, but we were wondering if you wanted to come join us for coffee at Perks.”

I hear a woman’s voice in the background and Isla shushes her.

“We’d really love to see you,” she adds.

My scalp prickles. I’d like to meet Charlotte and not just because I need to talk to her about the case—I’m intrigued to see this kindergarten teacher Noah may or may not be dating.

“I’ll be there in five,” I tell her.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

VON

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