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It took some effort but I stuck out my hand. “Mr. Stevens. I’m Ryan Crawford. I’ll be your daughter’s lawyer. Follow me.”
He didn’t mention knowing me or even working for me. I thought it best not to mention it either.
Showing him to Laura’s room, I motioned to a chair beside her. “Please take a seat.”
He walked toward Laura and put his hand on her shoulder. “How are you holding up, honey?”
She nodded but kept her arms crossed. I couldn’t tell if she was angry. She kept her face blank, staring down at the table in front of her.
“Mr. Stevens, we need you to recount what you saw happen that night at Mr. Rossi’s home.”
“I…” he started and looked at his daughter. “I gave a statement to the police last night.”
Coward.
Did no one feel confident enough to repeat what they saw?
“I’d like to hear it from you, sir.”
Laura’s finger traced the mark on the table again as we waited for her father to speak.
“I was at Mr. Rossi’s home. We were discussing business when Laura burst through the doors.”
Laura didn’t object, just listened.
Peter Stevens swallowed with difficulty, then shifted his legs to grasp an ankle over his knee. “She demanded something and then Rossi threatened to call the cops.”
“What did she demand?” I asked.
“I… I don’t remember.”
“Then let me speak plainly. Did she point a gun at Rossi and demand twenty thousand dollars?”
He looked up at the ceiling. Minutes went by and I figured he would not answer the question. “Mr. Stevens, was Laura carrying a gun?”
“It all happened so fast—”
I was losing my patience with the man. And after everything I’d heard, I barely held my temper in check. “It’s a simple question. One you’ll be asked when you’re put on the stand. If you can’t answer it here, how will you answer in front of a courtroom full of people?” Raising my voice, I stared at him. “Tell the truth. Did she point a gun and try to rob Mr. Rossi?”
He shook his head violently back and forth and rubbed his forehead. “Oh, god,” he whispered.
“Did she do it, Peter?” I asked for the third time, my voice trembling with anger.
“I… I… don’t remember.” He covered his face with his hands.
Blood pounded in my veins, knocking against the temples of my head. My fists clenched at my side and it took every ounce of self-control to keep me from wringing his skinny neck.
“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” I whispered, my anger on a tight leash. “You’re a fucking piece of—”
Laura’s hand stopped tracing the mark on the desk and she shot it in front of me, holding me back. Her eyes were cold and dark, like two pieces of coal left outside after someone had put out the fire. A shiver ran up my spine from the coldness that emanated from her stare.
She nodded at me, then turned those avenging eyes on her father.
“I can’t say I’m surprised by your words,” she began. “I’d expected as much from you. But to hear them…” She closed her eyes and clenched her fist above the dark mark. She inhaled and exhaled twice before continuing.
“I’d told myself, the first time they’d locked me up, that you had tried to defend me but they just wouldn’t listen. I’d imagined you pushing your way past security to break me out of juvie, only to be pulled away by five security guards. I told myself these stories because I didn’t want to face the truth. That you had let them take me. That you did nothing to stop them. That you sat at home and lived your life, not thinking that I was hurting and alone.” She paused and her throat trembled. “You never even came to visit.”
Could a heart break and still pound in your chest at the same time? Mine did.
