The Ex(31)

She must have seen me looking at it. “My friend Jake gave it to me for my birthday. We say we hate them so much we sort of love them. So how long should I be packing for?”

I had no idea how to answer that question. For all I knew, she would never live here again. “The bail hearing’s this afternoon, but these kinds of things can take a few days to process. You can always come back if you need to.”

She pulled three more shirts from hangers, balled them together, and shoved them into the bag.

“Speaking of the bail hearing,” I said, “we haven’t talked about whether you should go, but—”

“I’m going. Of course I’m going.”

“Good.” The fact that Jack was a single parent was my best shot, however slim, at getting him released pending trial. And Buckley’s presence was a reminder that Jack was also in some ways a victim of Malcolm Neeley. “Wear something conservative but don’t overdo it. Judges can tell when you’re faking it.”

She held up a short-sleeved, navy blue cotton wrap dress. “Is this okay? I wore it to my dad’s editor’s wedding.”

“Perfect. With flats, please. And Doc Martens don’t count.”

“Channel my inner One Direction fan—got it. Any chance you can help me convince Charlotte to let me stay here by myself? I’d be perfectly fine. Doorman out front. Takeout every night. I promise not to stick my fingers in any electrical outlets.”

“I don’t think Charlotte will go for that.”

“I know. And I already tried to convince her to stay here with me. She patted me on the head and said I was adorable. She thinks of anything south of Forty-Second Street as the ghetto.”

I was surprised when she sat next to me on the bed. “So how reliable is that gunshot powder test you told me about?”

“You mean gunshot residues? Well, basically, when a gun is fired, gunpowder gets ignited by hot gas, which causes it to explode. The expanding gas is what forces the bullet out. That process emits what people call gunshot residues.”

“And the police found that on Dad’s shirt?”

I nodded. “But here’s the thing. Have you ever used baby powder, and you keep finding it everywhere for days because it sticks to everything?” She was nodding. “So gunshot residues are even finer than talcum powder. You can’t even see them. They get transferred from surface to surface. So if a police officer fired a gun in training and then leaned against a wall in the police station—”

“And then my father leaned against the same wall—”

“Exactly.” I realized I should have explained all of that when I first told her about the GSR results.

“You’re a really good lawyer, right?”

“Reportedly.”

“Like, you get people off even when they’re guilty.”

“That’s probably happened more than a few times.”

“Just do your best to help my dad, okay?”

“Of course, Buckley. I promise.”

I heard her sniffle as she gave me a quick hug before zipping her suitcase.





Chapter 10


I BARELY RECOGNIZED the bald, barrel-chested man in a custom-cut suit who welcomed me into his office at 1 Police Plaza. When I had known him twenty years earlier, Lieutenant Ross Connor was merely Officer Ross Connor, skinny, with big ears that stuck out from the backward baseball cap he always wore off duty. That skinny officer’s partner had been Jack’s brother, NYPD Officer Owen Harris.

When I’d asked Einer to track Ross down for me, I had expected him to be retired by now, living in Idaho or Florida or one of those other places where police officers moved to grow old. But with a Google search, Einer had told me that Ross was still with the NYPD, chosen to head the department’s Intelligence Bureau. I couldn’t think of a better person to support Jack’s request for bail.

“It’s not any defense lawyer I’d let into my office without an appointment. But when I heard your name, curiosity got the best of me. Now I’m just pissed. How do you look just the same when I look like an old guy who ate my younger self?”

We hugged awkwardly. “From that suit and these digs, I’d say you’re doing pretty well. I was shocked that you were still on the job. You’ve got to be coming up on your twenty-two years.” Ross had been the younger of the Ross-Owen pairing.

“A little bit past it. But if I stay on two more years, my pension will be based on what I’m earning here in the Intelligence Bureau. So, yeah, I’m doing all right. But you’re not here to catch up on my retirement plans. This has to be about Jack.”

“His bail hearing’s today. He could use your support.”

“I don’t know what Jack told you, but I don’t know the man anymore.”

“But you used to, so you know Jack couldn’t have done this. Just having you there on his side would make a difference.”

“No offense, but I’m not in the habit of being used by defense lawyers.”

“Come on, Ross. You and Owen were like brothers.”

He shook his head. “So that makes Jack my brother by extension? I don’t think so.”

I knew that coming here would be a long shot; I was asking a member of law enforcement to stand up for a murder defendant. But I did not expect Ross to be this hostile. “Where’s this coming from?”