smile.
He executed a three-point turn, then clicked down his left-turn signal with a finger. “Then maybe there’s hope for you after all.”
“I don’t want you hiring a lawyer,” Laney insisted. Sitting across from Ross in the interview room, she looked as exhausted as he felt, with her long hair disheveled and her T-shirt and sweatpants rumpled from her sleepless night. Yet her hazel eyes sparked with the defiance that had made her such a handful in her teenage years, the same defiance that often led her mother to regularly shake her head and say, That little girl of mine, she surely does dance to her own beat.
Ross wondered, was he imagining a trace of resentment, too, that he would offer to pay his friend Dan Henderson to represent her? While his and his sisters’ late father had left them and their mother a comfortable financial cushion, Laney’s side of the family had always had to scrimp. But they were proud, too, proud enough to tire of their rich cousins’ hand-me-downs and Ross’s mother’s charity.
“I don’t know why I’ve been dragging this out,” Laney told him. “I have nothing to hide. Nothing at all. As long as they send in someone who’ll really listen this time.”
She made a face, clearly thinking of Roger Savoy’s obvious suspicion.
“You’ve been sitting here for hours,” Ross said. “You’re tired, upset, probably hungry.”
“No. Well, not hungry, anyway. One of the deputies—a nice one—brought in breakfast.” She nodded toward the empty coffee cup, crumb-stained paper plate, and napkins on the rectangular folding table between them.
“The point is,” he said, “you’re in no shape to defend yourself when someone tries to box you in a corner.”
“I’m the victim in this,” she insisted. “Why should I need to defend myself?”
“Because you pissed them off last night, when you brought up the race thing. Or you pissed off Chief Deputy Savoy.”
“Well, what else would you call a noose, Ross? A noose hung in the kitchen of the house where I live?”
He stared at her, wondering how Laney and her sisters’ family background had impacted the way they viewed things. He knew Aunt Ava’s marriage to a mixed-race man had raised eyebrows back in the day, but times had changed, even in East Texas.
As if Laney had read his mind, she said, “I don’t expect you to understand. You never had to deal with the comments, the kind of things people say when they don’t think anybody different is around. And then, if I say anything, anything at all, they…most of the time they just come up with something awkward, usually about how I shouldn’t take it wrong and how they’re not prejudiced. But other times…” Her expression faltered.
“Okay, I get that part,” Ross said. Or at least as much as a white man born into money could. Certainly he’d heard complaints from Laney and her sisters on occasion, had even intervened when some ignorant drunk had the poor sense to spout off in his presence. “But last night you were talking about Jake and Caleb, not just Hart’s death or the noose left in your kitchen. What’s this all about, Laney? Really?”
She shook her head before looking down and picking at her thumbnail. “I only want to say it once, so you can tell the deputy to come in. See if you can get the nice one. Deputy Whittaker, I think his name is.”
Ross touched her wrist and waited until she looked up at him to speak. “I don’t think you understand. If they believe you hung that rope yourself and this is all some sort of hoax,they’ll charge you. Which is why I still think you should let me call Dan.”
“Then they’ll be thinking I really did do something. Why else does anybody lawyer up?”
“Because innocent people do get charged. And sometimes they get convicted. You can’t afford to be naive here.”
Laney looked up at him, anger flashing in her eyes. “I’m not a child, Ross. And you’re not my father. I’m perfectly able to
He executed a three-point turn, then clicked down his left-turn signal with a finger. “Then maybe there’s hope for you after all.”
“I don’t want you hiring a lawyer,” Laney insisted. Sitting across from Ross in the interview room, she looked as exhausted as he felt, with her long hair disheveled and her T-shirt and sweatpants rumpled from her sleepless night. Yet her hazel eyes sparked with the defiance that had made her such a handful in her teenage years, the same defiance that often led her mother to regularly shake her head and say, That little girl of mine, she surely does dance to her own beat.
Ross wondered, was he imagining a trace of resentment, too, that he would offer to pay his friend Dan Henderson to represent her? While his and his sisters’ late father had left them and their mother a comfortable financial cushion, Laney’s side of the family had always had to scrimp. But they were proud, too, proud enough to tire of their rich cousins’ hand-me-downs and Ross’s mother’s charity.
“I don’t know why I’ve been dragging this out,” Laney told him. “I have nothing to hide. Nothing at all. As long as they send in someone who’ll really listen this time.”
She made a face, clearly thinking of Roger Savoy’s obvious suspicion.
“You’ve been sitting here for hours,” Ross said. “You’re tired, upset, probably hungry.”
“No. Well, not hungry, anyway. One of the deputies—a nice one—brought in breakfast.” She nodded toward the empty coffee cup, crumb-stained paper plate, and napkins on the rectangular folding table between them.
“The point is,” he said, “you’re in no shape to defend yourself when someone tries to box you in a corner.”
“I’m the victim in this,” she insisted. “Why should I need to defend myself?”
“Because you pissed them off last night, when you brought up the race thing. Or you pissed off Chief Deputy Savoy.”
“Well, what else would you call a noose, Ross? A noose hung in the kitchen of the house where I live?”
He stared at her, wondering how Laney and her sisters’ family background had impacted the way they viewed things. He knew Aunt Ava’s marriage to a mixed-race man had raised eyebrows back in the day, but times had changed, even in East Texas.
As if Laney had read his mind, she said, “I don’t expect you to understand. You never had to deal with the comments, the kind of things people say when they don’t think anybody different is around. And then, if I say anything, anything at all, they…most of the time they just come up with something awkward, usually about how I shouldn’t take it wrong and how they’re not prejudiced. But other times…” Her expression faltered.
“Okay, I get that part,” Ross said. Or at least as much as a white man born into money could. Certainly he’d heard complaints from Laney and her sisters on occasion, had even intervened when some ignorant drunk had the poor sense to spout off in his presence. “But last night you were talking about Jake and Caleb, not just Hart’s death or the noose left in your kitchen. What’s this all about, Laney? Really?”
She shook her head before looking down and picking at her thumbnail. “I only want to say it once, so you can tell the deputy to come in. See if you can get the nice one. Deputy Whittaker, I think his name is.”
Ross touched her wrist and waited until she looked up at him to speak. “I don’t think you understand. If they believe you hung that rope yourself and this is all some sort of hoax,they’ll charge you. Which is why I still think you should let me call Dan.”
“Then they’ll be thinking I really did do something. Why else does anybody lawyer up?”
“Because innocent people do get charged. And sometimes they get convicted. You can’t afford to be naive here.”
Laney looked up at him, anger flashing in her eyes. “I’m not a child, Ross. And you’re not my father. I’m perfectly able to
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