Chapter Thirty
“First you let Peter arrest my sister and now you want to talk about Jane taking RahRah.” She banged the drawer of the filing cabinet in the reception area shut. “I thought you are supposed to be representing Emily and me.”
Sarah crossed the room with three quick strides and followed Harlan into his office. Keeping the manila file folder he held clutched to his chest, Harlan retreated to the far side of his desk.
“What are you doing?” She pressed her palms into the desk and leaned forward on them. “Do you really think you can shield yourself from me with that flimsy folder?”
“Of course not.” He laid the folder on his desk. “I’m simply giving you a moment to calm down and listen to reason.”
“The only thing I want to hear from you is ‘how.’ How you’re going to get my sister out of jail and how you’re going to keep Jane’s hands off RahRah.”
“Sarah, you’re not being fair. I’ve been working on Emily’s case, but like I already told you, she refuses to help me.” He pointed to a stack of law books piled on his desk. “I’ve looked for a precedent or something to use as a defense, but nothing seems to fit. Your sister may be obstinate, ornery, and unhelpful, but no one would believe she is crazy, temporarily insane, or acting in self-defense.”
“But—”
“The evidence Peter has looks bad. Maybe it won’t justify a finding of premeditated murder in Richard’s case, but between the fingerprints on the weapons and the blood and rhubarb all over your sister and her clothing, and Richard and Bill apparently having enough dirt on Emily to get her kicked out of Southwind and maybe even the cooking field, Peter had good reason to arrest Emily.”
Sarah jerked away from Harlan’s desk. “What about the tox reports? If they’re not back, how can he be sure Bill was murdered?”
“They’re not back. Hopefully, the reports will exonerate Emily, but we can’t count on it. That’s why we should view this case from all angles. If I can’t find grounds for reasonable doubt, we also should consider what kind of a deal we might be able to strike.”
“Are you talking about a plea bargain?” Sarah backed into Harlan’s guest chair, as if he had pushed her into it. “Harlan Endicott, you’re supposed to be on her side.”
“I am. I really am.” He rubbed the back of his neck as a pained expression flitted across his face. “If there was something I could use to raise reasonable doubt . . .”
“You’re missing something. I’m sure of it.”
“Believe me, I’ve racked my brain over this.” He again pointed to the books on his desk.
“Maybe the answer isn’t in those books.” She took a deep breath and swallowed before letting the words rush out. “I know you said we shouldn’t do any sleuthing, but Emily and I felt we had to. In fact, that’s why I was working in the Southwind booth.”
“You don’t say.” He peered over his glasses. “It didn’t take a detective to figure that one out. Did you think I really believed Emily put you on the payroll for your culinary skills? So, what did you two super sleuths discover?”
“Well, we realized Marcus and Jane are involved in something together.” She filled him in on the conversation she overheard outside the nurse’s station. “Control of Southwind could have been a motive for Marcus. By the same token, claiming the carriage house, RahRah’s trust, and a piece of Southwind might have made Bill’s death attractive to Jane. Emily and I haven’t even scratched the surface on Jacob and Grace yet, but we know Grace has had some dealings with the criminal justice system. We didn’t get time to compare notes before Peter arrested Emily. We’ve got to go back to the jail and talk to her.”
“I’ll try but . . .” He lowered his voice and kept his eyes glued on his desk. “Emily doesn’t want to see you.”
“I’ve heard.” She sunk back in her chair. “It doesn’t make sense to me. Until she came back from San Francisco, we’ve always shared everything.”
“People change.”
“Not as much as you’re saying. We’re missing something.”
“Perhaps.” Harlan came around his desk. He parked himself on its edge, in front of Sarah. “Help me here. Your sister isn’t. You keep telling me you know something is different, but what is it?”
He leaned into Sarah’s personal space. “I can’t sell a judge on your intuition. I need something concrete. What have you noticed? What is it that feels good or bad to you?” He bent so close to her that when Sarah raised her head, she could smell the sweetness of his aftershave. “Well?”
Sarah ran the events of the past few months through her head. Nothing specific came to mind. In every instance she could think of, things had started as they always did and then Emily had drifted away. Work excuses were her main reason—hours on duty or a minor crisis. Come to think of it, Emily’s issue of the day always distracted her from whatever she planned to do with Sarah but wasn’t so major Emily, who normally never shut her mouth, felt the need to use Sarah as a sounding board. Until this moment, Sarah hadn’t understood how far outside Emily’s inner world she now was. “Secretive and silent—she’s the exact opposite of the Emily I’ve known since the day she started talking.”
Harlan crunched his eyebrows, narrowing his eyes. “That certainly doesn’t help. Think of how the prosecutor will play that to a jury.” He stood and puffed his chest as he walked around the room and then assumed almost the same posture Emily struck when she’d been role-playing earlier in his office. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. The defendant and her sister were always close. They shared everything. That is, until lately, when she began holding her feelings and thoughts close to her heart.”
Sarah jumped up and gave him a hug. “Harlan, you’re a genius!”
“I think I’m missing something here. I’ve gone from slacking devil to genius?” He looked at his watch. “In the space of two minutes?”
“Not even.” She laughed at his solemn frown and crossed arms. “Relax, you’re giving away your feelings in your body language. That’s exactly what Emily’s been doing. We simply didn’t see it.”
“Sarah, go back a step. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s simple. You’re one hundred percent right about her holding things close to her heart.” She waited for Harlan to catch up with her but then pressed forward. “Think about it. Emily has always been out there—hiding nothing. If Mom asked, ‘How was school?’ I’d say ‘fine,’ but Emily would lay out her day hour by hour. Why suddenly no run-on descriptions or random thoughts?”
Harlan stared at Sarah, eyes wide.
“Don’t you see? Emily hasn’t changed. She’s just sharing her feelings and everything important in her life with someone other than Mom or me. Someone close to her heart who she’s protecting.”
“Someone close to her heart?”
Sarah nodded. “Emily couldn’t wait to get out of Wheaton, but she came back willingly. Chef Marcus is up-and-coming, but she’s worked for bigger names. I don’t know exactly what happened in San Francisco, but figure it out. They’re both here now.”
“And Emily is—”
“Sharing food with him instead of me. We need to talk to Chef Marcus.”