The Bad Daughter(80)

“Which is probably a good thing,” Melanie said. “He certainly can’t come back here. Cassidy’s upset enough as it is. She keeps asking me if I think Alec killed her mother.”

“I hope you told her that he didn’t.”

“What makes you so sure?”

Robin promptly disconnected the call.

Cassidy had been sleeping when Robin and Blake left the house this morning. Which was probably a good thing, Robin decided, borrowing Melanie’s phrase. It had been difficult enough trying to explain Alec’s relationship with Tara. “You mean they were having an affair?” Cassidy asked, eyes wide with disbelief. “She was cheating on Daddy?”

“She wasn’t happy, sweetheart.”

“No, you’re wrong,” Cassidy had insisted. “She loved Daddy. They were really happy together.”

Now Robin stared at the beige marble tiles at her feet, wondering if Alec had been entirely truthful with her. She didn’t doubt that Tara and her brother had been having an affair, but what if Tara had merely been playing with him? What if she’d had no intention of leaving her husband and told Alec so that night and he snapped?

No, it wasn’t possible. She knew her brother. He was no more capable of shooting anyone than she was. But if he didn’t shoot them, who did?

A young woman with a pronounced pout and long blond hair falling in waves down her back approached. She was dressed in tight white jeans and an even tighter cherry-red tank top. Obviously not the district attorney, Robin thought.

The woman came to a stop directly in front of Blake. “Hi,” she said to him, as if Robin didn’t exist.

“Can we help you?” Robin asked.

The young woman didn’t so much as glance in Robin’s direction. “I was just wondering where to go to pay my traffic ticket?” Her voice curled up flirtatiously at the end of the sentence.

“Sorry,” Blake said, “I have no idea.”

“I think the office is that way.” Robin pointed down the hall to her right.

“Guess I must have walked right by it.” The woman lingered, smiling expectantly at Blake, as if it was his turn to say something. “Okay. Well, thanks,” she said, wiggling away when he didn’t speak.

“You get that often?” Robin asked Blake, almost grateful for the diversion the blonde had provided.

“Get what?”

I love you, thought Robin.

Two men came bounding down the corridor, one with a camera.

“Keep your head down and don’t look up,” Blake advised, guiding Robin to a nearby bench and sitting down beside her. “Pretend they’re not there.”

They sat in silence, Blake scrolling his phone for messages, Robin staring at her feet. She looked up several minutes later to see Jeff McAllister approaching. “That’s him.” She jumped to her feet as the lawyer drew nearer, the reporter and his photographer nipping at his heels.

“Excuse me, Mr. McAllister,” the reporter shouted as the photographer began snapping pictures.

“I must ask you to back away,” McAllister said. “I’ll have a statement for you later.”

“Do you think there’s any chance your client will get bail?” the reporter asked, ignoring the lawyer’s directive.

“As I said, I’ll have a statement for you later. Now, if you don’t mind…”

The reporter and his cameraman reluctantly withdrew. Outside Courtroom One, a small crowd was gathering.

“My brother will get bail, won’t he?” Robin asked, reworking the reporter’s question.

“Highly doubtful,” McAllister replied. “But I’ll do my best.” He looked at Blake. “You are?”

Robin introduced the two attorneys, Blake towering over the shorter man. Despite the outside heat, McAllister was wearing a dark blue three-piece suit, a white shirt complete with cuff links, and a paisley tie.

“How is Alec?” Robin asked. “Have you seen him?”

“Not this morning, no. But they’ll be bringing him over shortly from the jail.”

Robin felt tiny bubbles of panic bursting like champagne inside her chest. “What kind of jail has two hundred and twenty-seven inmates?” she asked, hoping that the sound of her voice would keep her panic in check. “I mean, who came up with that number? Why not two hundred and twenty-five or two hundred and thirty? What genius decided on two hundred and twenty-seven?”

“Robin,” Blake said, “are you all right?”

“It just seems stupid to me, that’s all.”

“Maybe you should wait out here,” McAllister said, as the bailiff unlocked the courtroom doors.

“No,” Robin insisted. “It’s important for Alec to know we’re here, that we believe in his innocence. My brother is innocent,” she announced to the reporters now crowding the doorway.

“Did you know about your brother and Tara?” one asked as they made their way into the courtroom.

“Is it true they were having an affair?” asked another.

“Did Cassidy identify your brother as the man who shot her?”

“My brother is innocent,” Robin repeated, her voice a full octave higher and multi-decibels louder than it had been just seconds ago.

“Okay, that’s enough,” McAllister cautioned, although Robin wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or to the reporters.