Hannah’s fighting instinct final y kicked in. She stared the other girl down. “You’ve got to be kidding me. What is this about, real y, Camila? Are you pissed that Parekh wanted me to chase down Prosper with Sean, instead of you? Because if that’s your problem, I suggest you take it up with him, instead of making crazy swipes at me. I didn’t have anything to do with Hazel’s job offer, real or not. I’ve said hel o to her, and bought her a coffee. That’s the extent of our relationship.”
Camila opened her mouth to stay something, but Hannah held up a hand. “No,” she said. “You don’t get to talk right now. I don’t know enough about Hazel to screw with her life so successful y, and I have no possible reason to do it. I’m here to volunteer, just like you. And yes, someone tried to embarrass her but what makes you think it has anything to do with the Project? It seems to me like someone out there doesn’t like Hazel very much. What they did to her was personal. Designed to humiliate. I don’t think it has anything to do with the Project at al . And as for the filings.” Hannah made a scoffing noise. “Are you kidding me? You think I have the skil s to get into the computer system and mess with a bunch of motions at the same time that they are being careful y edited by Jim . . . oh, and al while logged in under my student ID of course, and not get caught?
Jesus, Camila. Get a grip.”
Camila’s expression was blank, giving nothing away.
“And for God’s sake, why? If you honestly think there’s a chance I did this, you must have a theory as to why?”
For the first time, doubt showed in Camila’s eyes. “That’s the one thing I can’t figure out.”
“WELL, HERE WE ARE,” ROB PAREKH SAID. HE WAS IN HIS
USUAL space, sitting at the top of the room on the edge of his desk.
“Al of our written motions are filed. Our expert witnesses are lined up. Today is about going through our pleadings and making sure every motion, every exhibit is in order and in the right place.”
Hannah was standing on one side of the room, Camila on the other. They hadn’t spoken for the rest of the walk into the office.
Hannah had half-expected Camila to burst into loud accusations as soon as they reached the Project office but she’d said nothing. She couldn’t be confident enough yet in her theories to want to share them with anyone else. Stil , Hannah was now very aware that she was operating on borrowed time.
“What about Neil Prosper?” Sean asked.
“Jim tried cal ing him yesterday,” Parekh said. “And we sent a process server to his house this morning. No luck. Looks like the family has decamped.”
“Shit,” Sean said, an expression of dismay on his face. “We should have stayed. We should have watched him, made sure he couldn’t run again.” He looked at Hannah, not with blame or suspicion but in a kind of wretched solidarity.
“The preliminary hearing won’t take more than a day, two at the very most,” Parekh said. “We’l do what we can to track him down.
I’m almost encouraged that he’s run. I was more afraid that we’d put him on the stand and he would lie. Now I feel like, if we get him there, we’l get the truth. That’s encouraging.” He sounded like a man trying to make the best out of a bad situation.
“Right, moving on. As you know we’ve been particularly concerned about Samuel Fitzhugh’s potential evidence. The prosecution is likely to use him on Monday to establish their case.
He was a compel ing witness as a child; he could be even more convincing as an adult.” Parekh paused, spread his hands wide. “Or not. We don’t know because we haven’t spoken with him. Jim and I have discussed it and we think the best chance of a positive outcome—and let’s be clear here that our expectations are low. I don’t want anyone getting their hopes up about this. But the best chance of a positive outcome is if a person close to Sam’s age approaches him. We think we need to take some of the formality out of it. Two guys in suits showing up would likely send him running for the hil s.”
There was a general murmur of agreement from the team.
“So we’d like you, Sean, and you, Hannah, to go to Yorktown tomorrow and see if you can track Samuel down. See if he’l talk to you. Everyone else, the hearing is on Monday, so today is the last working day. I want you to take the weekend off. Let’s go into Monday with our heads up and clear, ready to think on our feet. Al right?” He clapped his hands and stood up and people started to move.
“Sean, Hannah, a moment please,” Parekh said. They found a space in the corner of the room and Parekh lowered his voice, gave them a level gaze, his eyes very serious. clearly intended to convey serious intent. “Yorktown. Pierce is stil the sheriff. I want you to keep a low profile. Don’t take any risks. If Samuel doesn’t want to talk to you, you walk away, got it? I want absolutely no trouble.”
“Of course,” Sean said.
“Right. I know you know that this matters. I know I don’t need to ask you to do your best. Now, I want you both to take the rest of the night off. It’s already late. Get some rest and start fresh in the morning.”
Sean and Hannah picked up their coats and backpacks. Camila sat at her desk and watched them leave.
“You okay with this?” Sean asked.
“Fine,” Hannah said.
They’d just stepped out in the cool, fresh air when Hannah’s phone vibrated in her pocket. It was her mother.
“I need to take this, Sean.” She stepped away, pressed her phone to her ear. “Mom? Hel o?”
“Hannah, how are you?” Laura’s voice was tired, a little gravel y and strained, but she’d obviously sobered up a little.
“I’m fine.” Hannah emphasized the first word in the sentence. I’m fine. Did Laura realize she had answered the phone when Hannah’d cal ed her just a couple of hours earlier? Was that the reason for this cal ? There was a long pause on the other end of the line and Hannah’s grip on her phone tightened. She turned around on the path, looked back the way she had come. Sean was standing about fifteen yards back. He was on the phone too. “Mom, I can trust you, can’t I?”
“Of course. Of course you can, darling,” Laura said.
“I’m not talking about the drinking, Mom. I’m talking about everything else.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You’ve told me the truth, right?” Hannah said. She glanced over her shoulder. “Look, I need to ask you something. It’s very important.”
“Al right.”
“Everything you wrote in your diary. It’s al true, right? You didn’t take poetic license with anything?”
“Poetic license? For God’s sake.” Laura was offended. Hannah’s instinct was to rush in, to apologize, to try to make it right. No. Not this time.
“The first time you kissed Tom, you held his hand. You traced a scar on his hand. It’s in the diary.”
“I . . . yes. I remember.” The emotion in Laura’s voice made Hannah hesitate.
“And you’re sure that’s how it happened?”
“I don’t understand. What . . . ?”
“There’s no way you could have mixed things up?” The thought of her mother ever touching Michael Dandridge with affection made Hannah nauseous.
“Hannah, this is crazy. What are you suggesting? You’re talking about my diary? My diary from Bar Harbor?”
Hannah closed her eyes. She knew her mother. If she pushed her what would come next would be tears and angry reproaches and then there would be more drinking and self-destruction and pieces to pick up and nowhere in any of that would she find the truth.