him.â
She nodded warily. âWhat else is there?â
âWas there something remotely like a reason? Howâd your dress get torn?â
âIt was a private matter between us.â
Parley rolled his eyes back and closed them.
âThat wonât make any difference anyway,â she said. âWhat happened is whatâs important, not why it happened.â
âIs that what you think? Well, missy, whereâs your law degree?â
I saw two things in her face: a flash of anger and an immediate look of regret. âIâm sorry,â she said. âI know Iâm making it harder for you.â
âIt canât get too much harder than impossible. Youâd better come to realize a few things, and right nowâs not a minute too soon. Youâre in a bad spot.â
âI know that. I know it. What would happen if I just plead guilty and throw myself on the mercy of the court?â
âYou could do that. Without any mitigating circumstances, and based on what I know of this judge here, you might get out in time to see your great-grandchildren graduate from college. Thatâs if you get out at all, and if he doesnât fit you for a hot seat at Cañon City.â
âThey wonât execute me.â
âProbably not. This state doesnât have any stomach for its own death penalty statute. The point is, they could; that old man downstairs could put you on death row, where you might sit for years before some other old man commuted it to life. Or he could give you life without possibility of parole right out of the gate. Do you know how difficult it can be to even get something like that reconsidered, let alone overturned? Whatever your reason is for not talking about it now, thatâll look pale as the years pass. You can trust me on this, Laura, if you donât believe anything else I tell you: the day will come when youâll wish to God you had listened to good advice when you heard it. Then itâll be too late. The very best you can expect to do is twenty years of damned hard time. Thatâs what I want you to think about.â
âWhat do you think Iâve been doing? If there was anything I could tell youâ¦â
âYou can start by telling me why you shot him. And donât keep saying itâs a private matter. When you shoot somebody dead, thereâs nothing private about it anymore.â
âWhat difference does it make if you canât use it anyway?â
âIs that what youâre saying? There may be mitigating circumstances but you wonât let me use them even if I know what they are. Is that what youâre telling me?â
âI didnât say there were mitigating circumstances, you did. Thatâs different from the reason why, isnât it?â
âDonât do this to yourself, Laura. Donât play games with your lawyer.â
âI just canât get into it,â she said, and the room passed into a long, deadly silence.
âLetâs try it once more,â Parley said. âLook in my face here, not at the floor. Iâm your lawyer. That means you can talk to me and nothing you say will ever get out of this room without your permission. If youâve got second thoughts about having another party present, Mr. Janeway will leave us in private. This will stay between us. But youâve got to tell me what happened.â
âI just canât get into it. How many times have I got to say that?â
âGoddammit, you are into it, youâre up to your pretty neck into it. Donât look down, look at me and tell me who youâre protecting.â
âNo one. No one! Why would you even ask that? I told you I did it.â
âI donât believe you. I think youâre protecting somebody. Who could that be, Laura? Was it one of the kids?â
Her eyes opened wide. âDonât say that! Donât even think that!â
She looked at me and