“Are you all right?” Tara asked, leaning back and folding her arms across her chest self-consciously. She’d taken a shower, brushed her hair out, and put on her only decent outfit. But the look in his eyes was making her feel like a heap of garbage. “I’m fine; how about you, are you fine? Are you clearheaded enough to have this conversation? I don’t need to be wasting my time. I put off two other meetings to have you up here. If you’re going to be turning down drug treatment, I hope you have some another plan for yourself. You’ll need to be clean for trial. Otherwise there’s really no point to this.”
“What are you talking about?” Tara laughed but stopped abruptly at the look on his face. “I told you I don’t need drug treatment. I don’t do drugs.” “Did you take that cab home last night?” The arrogant look on his face made Tara’s stomach knot up. “Are you following me?” she asked indignantly, feeling like if she couldn’t get Reid to believe her, twelve strangers would surely never give her the benefit of the doubt. “I happened to see you,” he said bitterly, straightening some papers on his desk. “Listen I would be crazy to assume you’d kick the habit all in one night. All I’m saying is we need a plan to make sure you’re clean by trial time. You need to be open to that.”
“Pass,” she said, nibbling angrily at the side of her mouth. “What?” Reid twisted his face in frustration. “What are you talking about?” “Pass; don’t you remember?” Tara’s mind, which had been pushed to the brink by sleep deprivation, had to wonder if maybe this wasn’t Reid. How could he have forgotten their code words and their secrets? “I . . . uh . . .” He faltered, narrowing his eyes at her. She would have sworn he was a stranger until he ran a hand over his cheek and rested it under his chin. The way he always had when she drove him nuts. “That’s what we used to say.” She smiled, wishing he’d remember it as fondly as she did. “If something got too heavy between us, if we couldn’t get the other person to see things our way, we’d say pass so we didn’t kill each other.” “Tara, this isn’t a game.” He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “We aren’t kids anymore. You could go to jail. You might miss your son growing up. I need you to do what I ask of you.” “Just pass, Reid. It’s not that I won’t do what you want, I’m just saying let’s move on to something else. There must be other things we could do first. Why argue right out of the gate?” “Fine,” he acquiesced. “We need resources. Expert witnesses and an investigator. The police had you pegged as guilty from the first moment. They didn’t look any further into the case. That alone might be enough to create some reasonable doubt in a jury.” “How much does all that stuff cost? I know that your hourly rate must be way above my budget, but I want you to know I’ll do what I can to pay you back. Even if it takes me a lifetime.” She crossed her finger over her heart, another piece of their own, long-forgotten language. “Forget that right now. I’ll cover the cost of the investigator and call in some favors. There’s someone I’ve known a while. I asked her to join us this morning. It took some persuading, but I think she’ll have a good perspective, even if she doesn’t take the job.” “Okay,” Tara said in a tiny voice, feeling like she was overextending her friendship with Reid. She’d relied heavily on the past relationship between them but now she was sure she was exploiting that part of Reid that could never say no to her. If that was her only path back to Wylie she’d have to get right with it.
“Her name is Willow. She’s based in New York, but she owes me a few favors. She’s willing to come up for a while and hear you out.” “And she’s an investigator?” Tara had wrongly assumed the investigator would be some big-bellied old man, retired from his detective job and looking to freelance. In her mind she’d conjured up an image of an old time Dick Tracy. “She’s more than an investigator. She runs an innocence project that helps people who have been wrongfully convicted. This isn’t in her normal protocol considering you haven’t been convicted yet.” “Yet?” “I mean it’s earlier than Willow normally jumps on a case, but she was willing to come today. That’s a start. She’s the best at what she does. I’ve never seen anyone so driven at what she believes. You want her in your corner, so remember that. She has a family of her own and working with us will be keeping her from them. It’s a lot to ask.”
“Got it,” Tara said, happy that no matter what Willow was like, they had that one common thread; they were both mothers. Surely she’d understand the horror Tara was feeling. “She’s going to ask you things you might not want to answer. Don’t get defensive. Hear her out. Nothing she throws at you will be worse than what the prosecutor will be asking.” Reid looked at her with an intensity that demanded an answer. Tara nodded, but like a dammed river finally cresting she asked the questions she knew Reid did not want to answer. “Are you sure there is no way I can see Wylie? Not even for a few minutes? I think if I called the Oldens, even though we haven’t gotten along in the past, they’d let me see him. He must be asking for me all the time. I’m his whole world.” “No,” Reid asserted. “It’s not a good idea right now. Focus on the case.” Reid didn’t blink. He didn’t soften his gaze or mollify his voice. “That’s easy for you to say; you don’t have kids. You can’t imagine what it’s like to not be with him right now. You don’t know the agony.” She clutched a hand to her heart and the tears began to form again. “I brush his teeth every night and sing this song about Pearl the white tooth. I remind him to take potty breaks. This is the longest I’ve ever gone without him lying in my arms to fall asleep.”
“Good,” Reid said, looking her over appraisingly. “You need to continue to play that card, be sympathetic.” He waved his arm like a director instructing an actress. “You think this is a card?” Her eyes shot wide open with disbelief. “You think this paralyzing pain of not having my son in my arms is some kind of act? I know every single inch of him, every freckle, every cry. I know him better than I know myself. I love him more than I have ever loved anything, and not being with him right now, imagining he’s scared, imagining he’s missing me, is the most crushing thing I’ve ever experienced, and trust me Reid, my life hasn’t been easy.” There it was. Finally, a break in his steely expression. He swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple jumped. His cheeks changed just slightly, the quick burning red of a firework that fizzled out just as quickly. It was unfortunate the only thing that had rattled him also confirmed Tara’s presumption of why he was here helping. Guilt. At the sound of hearing confirmation that her life had been littered with troubles, she knew instantly he felt blame for much of it.
“She’ll be good on the stand,” a smooth voice said from behind Tara, sending her jumping. In strode a bronze-skinned woman with large eyes and bluntly cut blonde hair. Her clothes were casual, just a gray T-shirt and some well-fitting dark jeans, her black flats looking almost like slippers. Rope bracelets laced around her wrists and an intricately wound metal necklace hung long on her. She was well put together yet intentionally disjointed. “Willow,” Reid announced, standing quickly and pulling her in for a hug. A hug? Reid had seemed so stiff, so unfamiliar and cold, but now he was throwing hugs around. Clearly this was more than just a professional favor. “How’s the family? Is Josh still working at the clinic?” “He is,” Willow announced with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “He’s a glutton for punishment. But he’s doing some good, and you know how important that is to him. My husband the martyr.” They both laughed and Tara felt small, like she didn’t belong. “I always said he should wear a cape to work. I don’t know how he does it. All those treatment programs and sad cases. It has got to be exhausting.” Reid shook his head and flashed his familiar friendly smile at Willow. There was a time in their lives that Tara and Reid had their own body language. It was all gone now, saved for other people. “He must be a superhero to put up with me,” she joked as she leaned against the small bookshelf below the window. She didn’t opt for the chair next to Tara, probably a tactic to stay noncommittal to the situation. “I appreciate your making the trek up here. Your opinion on the case means a lot to me.” Reid settled back into his chair. “I’d imagined you’d be interested in more than my opinion; I figured you’d want my services.” She cocked one of her brows and challenged him. Then she smiled, letting him off the hook. “I didn’t want to start begging too early,” he said with a wry show of his teeth. “You and Josh have been key players in so many of these cases, and I don’t know how I’d have gotten through some of them without you. I respect you both a lot and . . .” “Are we already to the flattery stage?” Willow laughed, waving him off and pushing her bangs off her face. “Let’s hear what we’re working with, and I’ll let you know how I can help. You know Josh and I will do anything we can for you. Now who are we trying to get out of jail?” “No one’s in jail yet,” Reid said, his voice sounding cautious...
~~~
...but Tara knew better. Lies were in her veins recently. Her whole life was fake, and it had become second nature to say what people wanted to hear. Teachers asking why her parents had missed another teacher’s conference didn’t want to hear about their latest bender or how her mom had wanted to come but she’d begged her to stay home, knowing she was too high. That version of the story was too messy. So Tara would make something up...
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