Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
“Okay.”
“They’ll want a timeline, but we already prepared for that. The only difference is, obviously, if they ask if either of us left the motel after we checked in, we say no. We were together the whole night.”
I nod, but with a bit less confidence. “I don’t… really see how any of this will help, though. Even if they can’t recover the gun, they’ll know now that I got it from Russell.”
He looks over at me. “When you arranged all that, were you careful? Did you ever text him about borrowing his gun? Or tell anyone else that you had it?”
I shake my head. “I’m not an idiot, Tor. I’m not just gonna text him , ‘Hey, can I borrow one of your guns?’”
He cracks a smile. “Good. So that was all in person?”
“Yes.”
“You said he practiced shooting with you. Did you go to a range?”
I shake my head. “He set up targets behind his house.”
Tor sighs with relief. “That’s perfect. I assume he did that often enough that neighbors wouldn’t have taken notice of that time in particular.” Then he glances over at me. “He never took you to a range when you dated or anything, did he?”
“Nope. That’s not exactly my idea of a date night.”
A smirk tugs at his lips, and he nods. “Noted. So if the police ask if you’ve ever held his gun…”
“Well, I did hold one of his guns when we dated. It was empty—or, not loaded, or… whatever. But it was new. He had just bought it, so he was showing it to me. That was a long time ago, though.”
He nods. “Okay. Let’s not talk about it anymore, so when the police ask, you’re coming up with answers on the spot. We need to keep you fresh and loose.”
“When this is all over with, you may want to consider law school someday,” I tell him. “If you’re this good at breaking the law, imagine how well you could defend it.”
Amusement glints in his eyes. “I think it’s cute that you imagine I would ever be a prosecutor and not the one defending the criminals.”
I wrinkle up my nose, imagining him in Terry’s office. “Never mind, then. You shouldn’t be a lawyer.”
The rest of the drive is pretty quiet. I have a lot of questions and a lot of things I’d like to bring up, but since Tor’s in agreement with the lawyer about not rehearsing—and it makes sense to me—I keep them to myself.
The rain starts just as we pull into the parking lot of the lawyer’s offices.
I don’t feel good about this.
An image flashes to mind of me being escorted out of this building in handcuffs, led straight to a police car, and then to the beginning of the rest of my life.
I don’t want this to be the last place I go.
The night of the murder, Tor thought fast, and I really felt prepared for the questioning, but I don’t today. He addressed a very specific, very narrow part of the questioning I’m anticipating, and honestly, I don’t feel it was the most important part. Given his previous coaching, I’m surprised, and by the time we get to the lawyer’s suite of offices inside the building, I’m having doubts. I’ve taken my hands off the wheel and let Tor guide me through my defense so far because it was clear he was better at it than I was, but I feel like I need a lot more time to consider my answers since his review today was… well, a bit sparse.
He said the lawyer would prepare us, but the lawyer will know I lied to him after Russell’s testimony. He may not even be willing to represent me now. I certainly haven’t received a phone call from his office since turning my phone back on.
Still, I have enough faith in Tor that I follow him inside without voicing any of my concerns, and hopefully, I’m not turned away.
Tor tells me to take a seat in the waiting area, and he goes up to the reception desk alone. The receptionist’s gaze flickers to me, then back to him, and she nods with a polite smile.
Tor comes over and sits next to me. “He’s going to see us together.”
Voice low, I ask, “Are you sure he’s still representing me?”
“Pretty sure.”
“Why didn’t he call me?”
“I don’t know.”
I purse my lips. “I think he’s going to fire me.”
“He’s not going to fire you.”
“I don’t feel good about this.”
Tor reaches over and takes my hand, catching me completely off guard. He gives it a reassuring squeeze, and his blue eyes meet mine as he promises, “As long as we stick together, everything will be fine.”
That’s easy for him to say. His ex-boyfriend didn’t just implicate him in a murder.
My leg starts to bounce with nervous energy.