“Wow, right to business.” Jordan laughs. “Is someone a lawyer’s daughter or what?”
“I prefer the terms ex-lawyer, reformed lawyer, or born-again criminal,” I reply, playing along as I fight to keep my face straight.
“Noted, counselor.” Jordan shakes his head. “Fine. Maybe just assume I want to know anything important. How was the visit?”
My toes push off absentmindedly and the swing starts moving. Jordan stretches his long legs out in front of us and he listens as I tell him an abbreviated version of what happened at Polunsky.
When I finish, he clasps his hands together in front of him and taps one finger at a time against the back of the opposite hand. I can tell from his expression that his mind is as busy as his fingers. “So he’s denying it now?”
“Yes.” I bite the word off and end my statement there. My instinct is to defend Daddy, to say all the reasons why what he told me makes sense and why I believe him … except for the fact that I’m not completely sure if I do now.
Jordan’s hands stop moving. “Riley, seriously. Take a breath. I’m not attacking him. I’m not even saying I don’t believe him.”
My arms are crossed so tightly that I can feel the knot of tension at the back of my neck balling up. Forcing myself to relax, I drop my hands to my sides. “Okay, thank you.”
Before he can respond, I speak again. “I don’t understand. Why can’t you just pretend you never heard about him confessing?” I ask him. My voice is small, but my exasperation at my own mistake shows in my tone.
He stops swinging, turning his head toward me. His eyes are such a rich dark brown that in these shadows they seem nearly black, and now he stares hard, like he’s looking right through me. “Can you pretend you never heard it?”
“That isn’t the same.” I shake my head.
“Are you saying this confession wouldn’t be pretty important to my dad, too?”
“Fair point.” I wince from the sting of truth in his reply.
“But it really isn’t about that. No matter how mad you are at me, I want to help.” He leans closer and his eyes move from the shadows into the light. “Maybe if you tried to think about it that way, you might be able to relax and let me help you?”
I consider what he said for a few minutes. My instincts doubt him now, but eventually I realize that he’s right. If I want him to keep Daddy’s secret from Chief Vega, then I’m stuck with him. Does it really matter what his reasons are? If he can help, let him help.
I shrug. “I think I just need time to figure this out. I’m going to ask my mom and dad’s lawyer first. He’s a family friend. Maybe he has information that could help clarify things for me. Before I do that, though, I need to find the right questions.”
Jordan closely watches me as I piece together the only plan that has any hope of providing the answers I need right now. “I’m going to do some research. Find out everything I can about the case, refresh my memory. I’ll figure out what I should be asking and who I should be talking to. My dad lied, and I never thought he could be a liar. I have to figure out if he’s the man I thought—or someone else entirely.”
“Riley…” Jordan waits a few seconds. He seems reluctant to say whatever is on his mind. “You know—you know that whatever you may find, it probably won’t be something that can change the actual case. After all these years of people looking on both sides, it’s hard to imagine you finding anything new to prove his innocence in court.”
“I know,” I answer, so soft that he leans in closer. Then I look straight into his eyes. “I don’t need to find answers for them. I need to find them for me. I need to know what I think, not what my parents have told me to think. I need that—before he’s gone.”
Jordan sits back in the swing, his eyes still on me. He doesn’t say anything.
“Does that even make sense?” I ask finally.
“Yes.” His response comes with no hesitation. “I think—I think I’d feel the same way.”
The pictures of the victims from Daddy’s trial play through my head. Mama had tried to cover my eyes during that part, but I’d seen enough to have nightmares for a very long time. I finally got over them after several years, but now, with just the mere thought of digging into his case, my mind immediately fills with the images.
Jordan’s fingers close over mine as he stands up and pulls me to my feet. “You have to let me help you.”