Chapter 5

Julia moved fast.

The next afternoon, she called me to say she'd managed to get in touch with Sophie.

"It took some effort," Julia said over the phone. "Her mom keeps her on a tight leash.

"I had a friend of a friend pose as someone from a university club doing a social survey, just to get her to agree to meet up. We're meeting at the downtown library, second-floor reading area. Three o'clock. She only has an hour."

"That's good," I said, glancing at the clock. It was two in the afternoon.

"Are you going alone?"

"Yeah."

"Be careful. Don't start anything. Just observe and see what you can find out."

"Got it."

I changed into my usual dark gray suit. There was no reason to dress up.

Before heading out, I checked myself in the mirror by the front door.

The woman in the mirror had neat short hair and tired eyes, and her gaze was steady.

That would do.

The library wasn't far, so I walked there. The autumn afternoon sun was soft, and the wind carried the scent of fallen leaves.

The second-floor reading area was quiet, with only a handful of people scattered around.

I spotted Sophie right away.

She was sitting by the window in a light blue sweater, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. There was a book open in front of her, but she wasn't paying it any attention.

Her fingers kept fiddling with her backpack strap, and she looked lost in thought.

I walked over and took the seat across from her.

Sophie jerked her head up, and when she saw me, her face went pale. Her lips quivered, and she looked like she wanted to stand up, but stayed frozen in place.

"Relax," I said, keeping my voice low. "I just want to talk for a minute."

"My mom told me not to talk to you," she mumbled, her eyes darting away.

"You're nineteen, not nine," I said, locking eyes with her. "You can think for yourself, right?"

She stayed silent, her fingers twisting even tighter around her backpack strap.

"How long did I stand at your door that night?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said.

"Forty seconds," I said. "I came downstairs, handed you the tuner, you took it, said thanks, I said 'you're welcome,' and then I left. That's all that happened, right?"

She bit her lip, her eyelashes trembling.

"How did you get those bruises on your arm?" I asked, switching topics.

She instinctively covered her left arm.

"Did your mother do that, or did you do it to yourself?" I kept pushing. "That's a lot of effort for a medical report."

"No," she blurted out, tears welling up in her eyes. "I just bumped into something by accident!"

"Bumped into something and got those perfectly shaped finger marks?" I chuckled. "Sophie, I'm not stupid. Neither is the judge."

Tears rolled down her cheeks, hitting the pages of her book.

Some people in the reading area started glancing our way.

I softened my tone, and the words got heavier. "Do you know what happens if you lie under oath? It's perjury, and inventing a story to frame someone is a felony.

"You're nineteen. Do you want a record like that following you around for the rest of your life?"

She flinched.

"And your mother," I went on. "She's coaching you to lie, and she's trying to take 650 thousand dollars off me. At that number, she's looking at ten years or more. Are you going in with her?"

"I didn't..." She choked on it and the words came out scrambled. "My mom said it would be fine. She said if I just told them you touched me, we'd get the money. She said you had money and it wouldn't hurt you."

So it really was all about the money.

"Maybe 650 thousand dollars doesn't hurt me," I said, holding her eyes. "What about prison? Did your mother think about that? Did you?"

She covered her face, her shoulders shaking violently.

"It isn't too late to stop," I said. "Tell the truth in court. The judge will see that you were pressured, and that could go a long way for you."

"No." She shook her head, tears spilling through her fingers. "My mom will kill me."

I said, "So are you more afraid of your mom right now, or of being just a number in prison later?"

I stood up, leaned in close, and kept my voice low. "Sophie, this is your choice. Keep lying, and you and your mom both go down. Tell the truth, and you might still get a fresh start."

She looked up, her eyes red and swollen, full of fear and inner struggle.

I took a step back, pulled a business card from my pocket, and set it down in front of her.

"That's my lawyer, Julia Brooks. When you're ready, call her. She can help you," I said.

With that, I turned and walked away.

I didn't look back.