Detective Hickok turned to the jury. ‘Confirmation bias means that once you reach a conclusion about a perpetrator, you seek facts that support the conclusion and ignore facts that do not.’
‘Detective Hickok, did you consider the possibility that the killer could have come from a neighboring house?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘It seemed less likely.’
‘Less likely than Dr Alderman, that is?’
‘Yes.’
‘But wasn’t Dr Alderman’s carriage house in view of the main house, where his landlord lived?’
‘Yes.’
‘Wasn’t the landlord home on the night of the murder?’
‘Yes.’
‘The landlord’s name is Scott Ropsare, is it not?’
‘Yes.’
‘But didn’t Mr Ropsare have a view of Dr Alderman’s carriage house?’
‘Yes.’
‘So isn’t it true that Mr Ropsare could have seen Anna Desroches pull up in her car, get out, and wait on Dr Alderman’s porch?’
‘Yes.’ Detective Hickok blinked.
‘Nevertheless, you didn’t take Mr Ropsare in for questioning, did you?’
‘No, but I did knock on his door and speak to him. I asked him if he had seen anything unusual or suspicious, and he said he had not.’
Thomas frowned. ‘My question was, you didn’t take him in for questioning, did you?’
‘No.’
‘Were you aware that Mr Ropsare had a 2015 conviction for aggravated assault against his former wife?’
Detective Hickok’s lips flattened. ‘Yes, I learned that the next day.’
‘But you still didn’t go back to pick Mr Ropsare up and take him in for questioning?’
‘No.’
‘Because you had already charged Dr Alderman with the crime, isn’t that correct?’
‘Yes.’
Noah thought it was a masterful demonstration of confirmation bias and he wondered if Thomas would risk another question. The jurors were listening, and Noah sensed that they were getting the point.
Thomas paused. ‘Were you aware that Mr Ropsare committed suicide six months ago, only one month after the murder of Anna Desroches?’
Detective Hickok blinked, twice. ‘No, I was not.’
Noah’s mouth dropped open. He hadn’t known that either. He had only met Ropsare once, and Thomas hadn’t told him that the landlord had committed suicide. The jury reacted with surprise, and VFW Guy shifted forward, newly intrigued.
‘I have no other questions, Your Honor.’ Thomas turned and headed back to counsel table, his expression solemn. He sat down next to Noah, picked up his pen, and wrote on his legal pad:
Boom! I didn’t tell you because I wanted your reaction.
I got it. You’re not as good a liar as you think.
Linda shot to her feet and hurried forward to the stand. ‘Your Honor, I have redirect, if I may.’
Judge Gardner nodded. ‘Proceed, counsel.’
‘Detective Hickok, are you confident that the defendant committed the murder of Anna Desroches?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you believe that confirmation bias played any role at all in your investigation?’
‘No, not in the least.’
‘I have no further questions, Your Honor.’
Chapter Fifty-eight
Maggie, Before
Maggie barely slept Saturday night, but rose early on Sunday as usual, fed Ralph, and made batter for pancakes before the kids got up. She couldn’t bring herself to believe that Noah had molested Anna. She’d gone back and forth about it in her mind, all night. She remembered what he’d said, that he hadn’t done anything to Anna and whatever had happened with Jordan was unrelated. She supposed it was correct in the abstract, but it still didn’t sit right with her. Still, she couldn’t turn off her feelings for him so fast. She loved Noah, even though she didn’t know if their marriage could survive. They’d been so happy, before.
Caleb came downstairs with a sleepy smile, in his oversized Phillies T-shirt. He accepted her explanation that Noah had gone back to the conference, and their conversation had centered on whether she should make banana or blueberry pancakes. Anna came down later with puffy eyes and bedhead, in a Congreve T-shirt and gym shorts. She said nothing about Noah in front of Caleb, and Maggie felt the two of them sharing a terrible secret throughout breakfast, which passed with silly speculation about whether SpongeBob was cute or weird-looking.
After breakfast, Anna and Caleb went to their respective rooms, and Maggie checked on Anna around lunchtime, only to find her dozing with the laptop open and her textbooks around her. Maggie closed the door and let her sleep, then went to Caleb’s room, helped him with his homework on the book Wonder, and played apraxia Mad Libs with bandage, accident, and emergency. Caleb had backslid, but she didn’t make a point of it, and he didn’t mention Noah.
Maggie went through the rest of the day as if she were sleepwalking, puttering in the kitchen, watering the garden, and eyeing Noah’s laptop in the family room, wondering if she should search it. She succumbed around four o’clock, logging on. She checked his browser history, which hadn’t been deleted. She scanned the sites, but none of them were pornographic, only Noah-like searches of medical websites, online banking, pollen indexes, and abdominal exercises. She checked their bank accounts, but no suspicious checks had been sent to any random escort sites, nor were there any unusual cash withdrawals. After that, she went to the basement and searched his desktop computer, but that turned up nothing pornographic, mercifully.
Maggie was coming up from the basement when she heard footsteps on the stairwell, so she hurried into the kitchen and rushed to the sink to fake-drink a glass of water.
‘Mom?’ Anna said, entering the kitchen holding a packet of papers.
‘Hey honey, how are you feeling?’ Maggie gave her a big hug, freer to be real since Caleb wasn’t around.
‘I feel better, now.’ Anna hugged her back, then thrust some papers at Maggie, who assumed they were homework until she read the top: PETITION FOR PROTECTION FROM ABUSE
‘Wait, what is this?’
‘It’s called a PFA. I’m going to file it on Monday against Noah, but I need you to sign it because I’m under eighteen.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Maggie read the allegations on the form, her stomach turning.
‘I can’t take it anymore, I told you. I won’t live in the same house with him.’
‘Anna, you don’t have to do this,’ Maggie rushed to say, anguished and torn. ‘I’ve already decided what we’re going to do. I haven’t had a chance to talk to you about it yet. I’m going to tell him to see a therapist. He won’t be allowed back until we all –’
‘No, I won’t ever live with him. I need a Protection From Abuse Order. I learned about it online and I called the hotline, so I know what to do next.’
‘Anna, this is what people do when they’re abused by their husbands.’
‘Or by their parents. Their stepfather.’
‘Anna, really?’ Maggie struggled to think clearly. ‘Don’t you need a lawyer?’
‘No. The woman on the phone said I could just file it on an emergency basis, first thing Monday morning. I already emailed and called the judge’s chambers. I’m trying to get a hearing. I’m going to tell the judge that Noah sexually assaulted me.’ Anna met Maggie’s eye directly. ‘I’m not going to take this, not one more minute. If I wanted to, I could call the police on him, but I’m only doing the PFA.’
‘But honey, I’m handling this.’ Maggie collected her thoughts. ‘He’s not going to come home until we know that you can be safe. I mean, we can deal with this ourselves.’
‘I don’t want to. What he did was wrong.’
‘Anna, what’s the rush?’ Maggie shuddered, thinking of Noah being arrested. ‘Why can’t you give us a chance to settle this as a family?’
‘Look, I know you love Noah. That’s the problem, right?’ Anna flopped onto a stool at the kitchen island, still one of three. Maggie hadn’t even had a chance to order an extra one.
‘Right. Yes, I do. He’s my husband. Obviously, my emotions are conflicted right now.’