“Quite easily. I could take your body out to sea and dump you and no one would ever find you. But then, there might be questions, I suppose. Two deaths in such a short period of time, even if one of them is just little old you, might be problematic, even for the cops. So maybe I won’t. I haven’t decided.”
I cried. For the first time since Tom died I just lay there and cried, and it wasn’t because he was dead but because I was afraid for myself. I didn’t try to fight back or run away or even say anything. I’m so pathetic. I fucking hate myself right now. Mike looked at me with disgust. I was so sure he was going to kil me and just as sure that I couldn’t do anything to stop what was about to happen. I was so afraid, I . . . oh God, I peed my pants. He didn’t like that at al . He hit me again, told me to clean myself up and kicked me until I started moving. He talked as I scrubbed and cried. He blamed everything on his father, said his father had made a bad investment and nearly lost al their money and wanted Mike to give them his apartment and his car. For a moment Mike sounded genuinely upset.
When I had cleaned up he made me take a shower, and then he held me down and he . . . I don’t want to write the words. I don’t want to. If I do, it makes it real.
But I can stil feel the pain of it. Everything hurts, so much. The worst is this feeling inside my head. I don’t know how I’m ever going to get it out. You can’t clean inside your brain. How can I stop this feeling?
Maybe if I get drunk. Oblivion. I would do it if I could feel safe, but I’m not safe now. He might come back.
He raped me. He used a condom. He made me shower a second time. Then he told me I could go. He promised he’l kil me if I ever talk to the police again, or one of his drug-running friends wil kil me.
He told me exactly how. I believe him. I think he wants to do it. I think he’s just biding his time.
Hannah
NINE
THURSDAY, AUGUST 29, 2019
They found a café that served an al -day breakfast. Sean ordered a breakfast burrito, Hannah a Cajun chicken sandwich, and then they waited, while Hannah thought about how hungry she was. She couldn’t remember if she’d eaten breakfast. The food came quickly, and it was real y good.
“So let’s work it out,” Sean said. “What’s the time line here?”
Hannah had just taken a bite of her sandwich. She thought about it as she chewed and swal owed. “I think we don’t have a lot of facts to go on. We do know that Sophia lied. She said she wasn’t in touch with her brother, that she didn’t know where he was when clearly she did. Beth was able to give us his address. And Neil Prosper has that coffee chain. He’s obviously very wealthy. What are the chances he built that up without seed money from his parents? So I think she lied about Prosper being cut off by their parents too.”
“Okay, so we know that Prosper spent the evening of the murder with Dandridge. And that within a few days of Dandridge being arrested, Prosper had left town and essential y, as far as we know, never came back. And his family has very deliberately covered his tracks. Making him difficult to track down. So why would the Prosper family do that? Is it a reputation thing? They’re a wealthy old Virginia family. You think they didn’t want to be associated with a murder trial?”
This again. Hannah made a face. She couldn’t help it. She liked Sean, but this was just stupid.
“What?”
“I just don’t think we can jump to that conclusion.”
Sean looked interested. He sat back in his chair. “Tel me.”
“I just think there might be other reasons for him to run.”
“Like?”
“Wel , I hate to say this, Sean, but I think Prosper running is a bad fact. Don’t you think Parekh looked worried when we told him about it? I mean, our client claims to have spent the night with this guy when the murder takes place, and then the guy runs. I don’t think that looks good at al . Innocent people don’t run. What if they did it together?”
“You think Dandridge and Prosper might have kil ed Sarah together?”
“I think, if I were the prosecution, it’s exactly what I would suggest the moment I see Prosper on the stand. He ran. If I’m the prosecutor, I’m going to want to tie Prosper and Dandridge closer together. It makes Dandridge look worse, that his alibi ran away, not better.”
Sean thought for a moment then shook his head. “Oof.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” He stood up, fishing in his pocket for money for a tip.
“Tel me,” Hannah said, her anxiety spiking. She should have kept her mouth shut.
“It’s just, I can absolutely see why Rob wanted you on the case.
You have a different way of looking at things.”
WHEN THEY PULLED UP OUTSIDE THE PROSPER HOUSE IT
WAS SIX P.M., and there was a large Mercedes sedan and a Tesla Model X parked in the driveway. They parked outside, walked down the driveway, and again Sean rang the doorbel . This time little feet came running. A boy, about five years old, opened the door. He hung off the door frame, looked up at them in a friendly sort of way.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” Sean said. “Is your dad home?”
“Uh-huh.” The boy didn’t move, just stared up at them curiously.
“Do you think you could run and get him for me?” Sean asked.
But there were heavier footsteps already approaching. Johnathon Swift appeared, wearing slacks and an open-necked blue shirt, but otherwise looking just like his profile picture. He put a hand on the little boy’s shoulder, looked at Sean and Hannah with an expression much like his son’s.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“Mr. Swift,” began Sean. “My name is Sean Warner.” He pul ed out a business card and handed it over. Hannah caught a flash of the Innocence Project logo on the card. “I’m a law student at the University of Virginia, and a volunteer at the Innocence Project. This is my col eague Hannah Rokeby. We’d like to talk to you for a few minutes about Michael Dandridge.”
Swift, or Prosper, flinched. His hand tightened around his little boy’s shoulder as he looked down at Sean’s card. Then he looked back at Sean. “I don’t . . . ,” he began. But he stopped, changed direction. “Peter, can you go in and find Mommy, please?”
The little boy ran off into the house.
“I don’t have anything to say about Mike,” Prosper said. “I can’t help you. I’m sorry.” He started to close the door and Sean put a hand out to stop him.
“Mr. Prosper, I’m sorry, but the next step after this is a subpoena.
I know you don’t want that. But if you talk to us now, and tel us everything you know . . . if it isn’t useful then maybe there’l be no need for a subpoena. Please, we just have a few questions. I’m sure it won’t take long and then we can leave you to your evening with your family.”
He wanted to say no. Hannah could see it written al over his face. But he hesitated and then, maybe because the subpoena line had worked, or maybe just because he had questions of his own, he changed his mind.
“You’d better come in,” Prosper said. He led the way into a beautiful library. It was modern and bright, and large enough to comfortably house an oversize custom-made desk as wel as two smal couches, which faced each other to facilitate conversation.