Page 111 of Defend Me

It's exhilarating. But it also makes me sad. Because I used to be on the other side of the aisle—I used to believe in the righteousness of the prosecution and the officers upholding the law. Now I don’t know what to believe. But I don’t think I can go back to being a cop after all this is over.

The sheriff is dismissed, and the line of experts begins. The coroner takes the jury through Marion’s autopsy and the crime scene photographs are projected on the screen where the letters once were. Von grips the arms of her chair so hard her knuckles turn white. I chance a glance behind me and see Caden, sitting stone-faced beside his father, Isla leaning into him. Finn and Alistair wear matching expressions of horror. Daisy is openly crying. I turn back. Hearing the bleak details of Marion’s death, seeing those photographs, I can sense the shift in the jury. The pity for her—which is turning to suspicion of me.

Then Wilbur calls a few of my fellow officers to the stand, torepeat the sheriff’s claims. Von is as cutting as ever, but a bunch of my former colleagues testifying against me is not a good look. Derek is not called, so I guess the sheriff realized he couldn’t be browbeaten. Good old Derek. I hope he doesn’t face consequences for sticking by me. Then Wilbur calls his final witness—the fingerprint tech from the FBI lab. He’s very impressive as he explains how he used this technology to lift the print, after so many years, from the metal surface of the casing. Juries love this stuff, ever since the CSI era. Like the sheriff said, it’s hard evidence. Proof I was at the crime scene.

By the time Wilbur wraps up his case, even the jurors who seemed on my side earlier look at me with uncertainty. The judge adjourns until tomorrow, when Von will start presenting our case

The high I had felt after the sheriff’s testimony is fading.

Without Patrick as my alibi witness, what other real evidence do we have?

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

VON

I sit in the sunroom with my siblings, tension knotting in my stomach.

Noah said he was going to take Penny for a walk, to clear his head. I know he’s feeling as anxious as I am. That goddamn fingerprint. That slick FBI expert really did a number on the jury. I could tell they were impressed with his testimony. I felt like I crushed the cross of the sheriff, but the expert was the last person they heard from. And often, that’s what matters most. Now I have to present Noah’s case without Patrick. The last thing I want to do is put Noah on the stand. But he’s the only one who can corroborate Dale’s weak testimony, that he was at the bar that morning.

“Those photographs,” Daisy says with a slight hiccup, bringing me out of my thoughts. I wish I could have prepared my siblings better for the crime scene photos but honestly, there’s no preparing for something like that.

Finn wraps an arm around her.

“Don’t think about them,” he says.

“That wasn’t Mom,” Alistair says. For once, there’s no humor in his voice. “That was—we don’t have to remember her like that.”

“No,” I agree. “We don’t. And we shouldn’t.”

Caden is looking at me strangely. “Do you really think the sheriff…I mean, it sounded like you were accusing…”

“I was creating reasonable doubt,” I say succinctly.

“But if he was there, at the shooting range…if he had access to Noah’s gun…”

“Caden,” I warn.

“No way,” Finn says. “He’s had his lips firmly planted to Dad’s butt since he took office. You think he wasstalkingMom? You think he would kill her?”

Daisy shivers.

“Stop speculating,” I say to them. “That’s not helpful. My job is to poke holes in the prosecution’s theory. Create as much reasonable doubt as I can.”

I do not want my family to get ahead of themselves and paint the sheriff with one brush like Noah is doing. I get why he believes it so fiercely—he’s a black and white thinker and yeah, there are lots of pieces that point to the sheriff. But the same could be said about pieces pointing to Noah.

“That FBI guy was pretty damning,” Finn says.

“But Von gets to make Noah’s case now,” Daisy insists, sitting up straighter. She looks at me hopefully. “The burden is on the prosecution, right? And Noah’s name wasn’t in that logbook. That’s got to count for a lot.”

I rub my eyes. “Technically, yes,” I say. “The burden of proof is on the prosecution. But juries are made up of people, and people don’t like to believe that police arrest the innocent. The FBI tech was impressive. I have my own expert, of course, but juries believe in the FBI. As flimsy as the prosecution’s case is, that fingerprint is still damning.”

Especially without evidence that Noahcouldn’thave been there. I press my fingers to my temples as my brothers and sister continue to go back and forth over the testimony. There has got to be someone,someonein this damn town who saw Noah that day. Everyone is up in everyone’s business here. That’s one thing I’ve learned about Magnolia Bay. Someone always knows something. I just need to find the right someone.

“As if Mom helping Noah out with school stuff makes him a stalker,” Alistair mutters.

“I was surprised all those deputies threw him under the bus,” Finn says.

I feel like my head is going to explode if I don’t get out of this room. I stand and stride out the door and down the hall to the blue study. I sink into the chair and stare at the photo of Mom and Dad on their wedding day.

---