The Wrong Man

73

Tori was in the courtroom at the close of the day and caught my eye as I packed up. She was telling me she had something significant.

First, I had to do the customary wrap-up at the end of the court day with Aunt Deidre and Tom. Tom had actually been pretty composed in court today, to my chagrin, as I wanted the jury to see a guy who was clearly suffering from some mental problems. Instead, for some reason, Tom had remained relatively calm and still.

We conferred in the holding room they gave us for post-court discussions. I told them about what we’d found so far with Global Harvest and my talk with the FBI earlier today. “We’re pursuing this with everything we’ve got,” I said. “If there’s something there, hopefully we can come up with it over the next few days.”

Tom seemed like he was listening to me, but he didn’t say anything. For all I knew, he was contemplating his dinner in county lockup tonight. Deidre’s expression could best be described as downcast.

“Remember,” I told them, “this is a circumstantial case. They can’t put Tom at the scene, and they don’t have him firing the weapon.”

“Right,” said Deidre. She’d heard this before but, I’d come to learn, the repetition comforted her. We said our good-byes in the lobby, where Tori awaited me. As always, she wore that long white coat, only this time I didn’t have to fantasize about what it would be like to undress her.

Now was not the time to be thinking with that part of my anatomy. I needed my brain more. “Whaddaya got for me, kid?” I asked her, trying to give it a platonic feel. It sounded forced. It sounded ridiculous.

“Kid? Now I’m ‘Kid’?”

“Your new nickname.”

“Well, okay, Daddy-O.”

“Nice.”

We made it out of the doors and into the cool air. It felt good.

“So do you want to know what I came up with?” she asked.

“I do.”

She looked at me.

“I found Kathy’s e-mail address,” she said. “And I hacked into it.”