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“And mine?”

“More of the same. If I spilled the beans about that nasty piece of trash on some reality TV program, it would be unseemly. But when you told those stories about Casey’s petulance, you seemed perfectly natural. By the time that show goes to air, Casey Carter will wish she had stayed inside that prison. Good job, son. Good job.”

Andrew could count on one hand the number of times his father had praised him for anything.

23

Laurie couldn’t remember the last time she’d been able to walk into a bar in the city without having to turn sideways to navigate her way through a crowd. Bar Boulud, a high-demand hotspot, was gloriously empty this late afternoon. Laurie could hear the sound of her own heels echo up to the vault-shaped ceiling as she made her way to the back of the bar, where she spotted Charlotte and Angela at the farthest table. They had already ordered three glasses of wine and a beautiful charcuterie board filled with prosciutto, salami, pâté, and a couple of things Laurie was afraid to eat.

Angela reached over and gave Laurie’s free hand a quick squeeze. “You are such a doll for seeing Casey and me without an appointment today. Casey called me last night going absolutely nuts about those online comments.” She quickly pressed her hand to her mouth. “Oh dear, bad word choice. I meant that she was very concerned.”

“Who wouldn’t be?” Laurie said. “It does seem odd that fifteen years later, someone would immediately resume talking about her on the Internet using the same nickname. It suggests a person who’s not only obsessed with the case, but who wants Casey to know about it. Why use the same name unless you want to send a message that someone out there hates you?”

“Hello?” Charlotte said with a little wave. “No idea what you two are talking about. I’m the one who introduced you, remember? Fill me in, please.”

“Sorry,” Angela said, “I didn’t want to mention it while Casey was at the office with me. She’s so upset.” It didn’t take long for Angela to fill Charlotte in on the comments from RIP_Hunter.

“It could be one person who’s obsessed with Casey,” Charlotte observed. “Or it could be a bunch of different people all using the same online name.”

“I don’t understand,” Laurie said. “Why would a group come together to post negative comments about Casey as if they’re one person?”

“No, not anything like a conspiracy. I remember back in college, when I’d go on message boards to talk about the latest celebrity breakup-don’t judge me-people would sign their comments along the lines of Team Jennifer or Team Angie. It’s a way of taking sides in an Internet feud. Same thing with political candidates. These days, it would be on Twitter. A million people typing hashtag-whoever are signaling who they’re supporting, but it’s not written by one person. For all we know, RIP_Hunter could have been a label that caught on among people who were all on Hunter’s ‘side’ so to speak, meaning they thought Casey was guilty.”

“How could we find out what it really was?” Laurie asked.

“You’d have to check to see whether it was the kind of site where users had to create a verified account with a unique username, or whether anyone could just type RIP_Hunter as a signature.”

Laurie made a mental note to follow up on the technological aspect of these posts. She had her fingers crossed that the defense lawyer had done the same back then, which would save her from wading into a morass of computer information she sometimes struggled to understand.

“I don’t know about all that,” Angela said, “but I’ve been wracking my brain trying to think of people who might have wanted to hurt Hunter. I realize that Casey may not have mentioned a couple of possibilities. One was her ex-boyfriend, Jason Gardner. He was terribly jealous. It always seemed like he was still in love with Casey and trying to get her back, even though she was engaged to Hunter. But after she was convicted, he really threw her under the bus. He even published a trashy tell-all book. And you should also look into Gabrielle Lawson. She’s this pathetic aging socialite who was determined to snag a man like Hunter. Both of them were at the gala that night. Both of them stopped by our table. My worry is that if Casey goes through with this, it will kill her mother just the way her going to trial killed her father.”

Angela was speaking with such an intensity that she didn’t seem to notice that Charlotte and Laurie were sharing an anxious look. “Angela,” Charlotte said gently, “maybe we should let Laurie enjoy her happy hour. How would you feel if she grilled us about the fall fashion show that has us so exhausted?”

Laurie hadn’t known Charlotte long, but it wasn’t the first time she’d seemed to know what Laurie was thinking. The truth was, Laurie loved talking about work, no matter what the hour, but it felt inappropriate to discuss the current investigation with Casey’s family member in such an off-the-record way. Always the consummate professional, Charlotte had found a polite way to shift the subject matter.

“Oh my gosh, of course,” Angela said sheepishly. “We’re all officially off the clock. No work talk.”

Laurie was grateful for Charlotte’s save. “No problem at all,” she said. “If it makes you feel any better, we already have both Jason and Gabrielle on our list of people to contact based on our review of the case.”

“So,” Angela said, searching for a new topic, “are you married, Laurie, or are you part of the single ladies club with us? I don’t see a ring.”

Charlotte wrapped a friendly arm around her friend’s shoulder. “I should have warned you that my buddy Angela can be very blunt.”

Laurie could tell that Charlotte was embarrassed, but, if anything, Laurie found comfort in the fact that Charlotte hadn’t told Angela her background already. Sometimes Laurie thought that Greg’s murder was the first fact anyone learned about her. “I’m not married either,” she said. That seemed a sufficient explanation for the moment.

“Charlotte says I shouldn’t care so much about finding a man. Be happy on my own, et cetera. But I admit, it gets lonely not to have found the right guy yet.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “You make forty sound like ninety. Besides, you’re more gorgeous now than most women could hope to be at any age.”

“Oh sure, I go out a lot, but it doesn’t amount to a hill of beans.” She laughed. “I was engaged twice, but as we got near the wedding date, I asked myself if I’d want to see this guy’s face every morning.”

“Isn’t this uplifting?” Charlotte said. “Besides, Laurie has more going on in that arena than she can handle.”

Angela took the bait. “What’s this? Sounds juicy.”

“He’s someone I worked with. It’s complicated.”

“You really don’t think he’ll change his mind about coming back to the show?” Charlotte asked. “It won’t be the same without that perfect voice.” She did her best, deep-voiced Alex impersonation. “Good evening. This is Alex Buckley.”

“No,” Angela said, her mouth agape. “Alex Buckley? Really? The lawyer?”

Now Laurie wished they were talking about the case instead. She nodded. “The host of our show. Or at least, he was.”

“Okay, now I have to admit I haven’t seen the show yet.”

Charlotte pretended to give her friend a little smack. “Laurie’s taking your cousin’s case and you didn’t even watch her show?”

“I was planning on streaming it this weekend. Of course I was dying to watch it last month when your sister’s case was featured, but you told me you didn’t want everyone at work to watch, because it was so personal about your family.”

“Well, obviously I didn’t mean that about you,” Charlotte said. “You’re one of my best friends.”