So I got on with the business of lawyering away at the evidence. Minimizing it. Defending Jacob.
This is an aspect of crime stories I never fully appreciated until I became one: it is so ruinously expensive to mount a defense that, innocent or guilty, the accusation is itself a devastating punishment. Every defendant pays a price.
I don't want you to say anything. I want you to listen. You know, being confident isn't the same as being right.
With the minivan in the air, rolling counterclockwise, the engine racing, Laurie screaming -- a fraction of a second, that's all -- Jacob would have thought of me -- who had held him, my own baby, looked down into eyes -- and he would have understood...
