“No.”
“Good, because I wouldn’t believe you.” His eyes narrowed. “You always did tell the truth, even when it wasn’t in your best interests.”
“Isn’t truth what the law is all about?” Amanda countered. “I seem to remember you had a special lecture you liked to give—”
“I did,” he interrupted her. “But I gave it so many times I don’t care to hear it again.” Finally he smiled. “It’s good to see you, Amanda Baron. Even under these trying circumstances. You’re a feast for the eye as well as the spirit.”
Amanda inclined her head, managing a small smile.
The professor looked her over more carefully. “I’ve kept up with what’s been happening via the newspapers. I read about your grandfather’s arrest and his indictment. Events of that sort are good fodder, especially when they happen in a nearby town. How is your family holding up?”
“Not very well, I’m afraid. They’re all trying to act as if everything will turn out all right, but they’re scared silly that it won’t.”
“And you?”
“Me most of all.”
The professor showed her to the couch and invited her to sit down while he went to make coffee. Soon he was back with two large mugs. “Do you take cream or sugar?” he asked.
“No, I like it straight.” She accepted a cup and took a small sip of the steaming liquid. It did little to warm her.
Professor Williams sat back, his cup untouched. “So, what is it you’re afraid of?” he asked.
“What am I not afraid of is a better question! I don’t know what I’m doing, Professor! I’ve never handled a criminal case before...at least, nothing more serious than some crazy local kid assaulting someone, or somebody else robbing a store. This is murder we’re talking about here! Life imprisonment. And my grandfather is the person charged! Everyone believes I can handle it—my mother, my brother, my sister...my grandfather. They all think that just because I have a law degree, I should be able to waltz into court and get Granddad off. I’ve tried to explain that it’s not that easy, but they won’t listen.” She set down her cup, afraid to hold it any longer in case it spilled.
“I believe you can do it,” the professor said quietly. “You have a very quick mind, Amanda.”
“But if I lose, if I do something wrong...if I overlook something, if I pick the wrong jurors...Ethan Trask will—”
“You have a very tough adversary.”
“The battle won’t be fair!”
“Which is why you came to me.”
Amanda sat forward, her chestnut hair lightly brushing her shoulders. “I thought possibly if you would be my cocounsel...”
He was already shaking his head. “It’s been three years since I left teaching and ten since I set foot in a courtroom. When I retired, I took leave of all that.”
“It’s not something a person forgets,” she maintained. “Not someone as capable as you. I’ve read your memoirs. I’ve read all the cases.”
“I didn’t say I’ve forgotten anything,” he corrected her sharply. “I said I took leave of that life. I swore to myself that I would never again come before the bench in any capacity as a lawyer, and I meant it. I saw too many doddering old men in my day, men who barely knew how to tie their shoelaces any longer, still trying to plead a case...and some of those men were behind the bench, too! No, I’m much too old and much too tired to inflict myself on the judicial system.”
Amanda immediately remembered the rumors of his ill health. “I heard that you weren’t feeling well. But you look so...healthy.” His color was good, his eyes bright.
He laughed shortly. “That’s something I put around to keep from being bothered. Too many people read that damned book last year and wanted advice. They came at all hours of the day and night.”
Amanda looked down. That was exactly what she was doing.
“I didn’t mean you,” he said, correctly interpreting her sudden stillness. “I’m talking about strangers, people I don’t even know.”
Amanda’s features were tight. She should never have come here. Professor Williams was a wonderful teacher, but they had never become personal friends. Too many years and too much experience separated them. Only desperation had brought her to this point. She stood. “I’m sorry to have taken up so much of your time. You warned me in the beginning. I should have listened.” She smiled, and the sweetness of her smile had no artifice. “I’m glad that you’re not ill,” she added.
She turned to leave, but a hand stopped her. Professor Williams’s expression was whimsical. “You have something very special, Amanda. A quality many other lawyers only try to achieve. Sincerity just shines out of you, my dear. Stick with that, and you won’t have a thing to worry about.”
The compliment was nice and Amanda appreciated it, but she knew that sincerity alone wasn’t going to win her grandfather’s case. Only hard work would do that. Hard work and, as the situation now stood, a great deal of luck. “Thank you,” she said.
She started for the door again, opened it and was about to go outside when Professor Williams asked, “Would you be willing to accept me in the role of adviser? I won’t step into the well with you, I won’t talk to the judge or wrangle with Ethan Trask, but I will give you the benefit of what little knowledge I’ve managed to glean over the years. Would that be a satisfactory compromise?”
For the first time since her grandfather’s indictment, Amanda felt a spurt of optimism. She turned back to the professor, joy spreading in her smile. “That would be wonderful!” she said, her throat tight.
His round face softened. “Why is it old men are so often willing to make fools of themselves when asked to by attractive young women?”
“I would never call you old, and I would never dare to call you a fool. Thank you, Professor.”
“My name is Peter. If we’re going to work together, it should be as equals.”
Amanda tried the name. “Peter,” she repeated.
He nodded. “Now, you must set me straight on this case. As you know probably only too well by now, the media rarely manage to get the story right.”
“Gladly,” Amanda agreed.
She stepped back into the cozy room, curled up on the couch and, with cup in hand, gave her new friend an accounting of all she knew about her grandfather and the woman he was accused of murdering forty-two years before—his wife and her grandmother, Margaret Lindstrom Ingalls.
* * *
ETHAN TRASK SURVEYED the set of offices that would be his for the upcoming weeks and decided that they were beginning to shape up. Everyone involved with helping him to settle in had done their jobs efficiently and well. Desks were positioned, file cabinets provided, worktables set up. Even the secretary on loan from the local district attorney’s office was already hard at work, entering something into her computer. And in one corner, packed in several boxes, was the material he would need to make the state’s case against one Judson Thaddeus Ingalls. At present, he knew only the essentials. The seventy-eight-year-old man was accused of murdering his wife at their lakeside estate some forty-two years ago. The story circulated after the woman’s disappearance was that she had run away, probably with another man, leaving her husband to raise their young daughter. That falsehood had been widely believed until recently, when her remains had inconveniently turned up.
Ethan placed one of the boxes on the table nearest his desk and started to empty it. He would