A month ago, Laurie had been convinced that she was well ahead of schedule. She had what she thought was the perfect case. Students from the criminal law clinic at Brooklyn Law School had contacted her about a young woman who was convicted of murdering her college roommate three years earlier. They had proof that one of the prosecution’s key witnesses had lied. It didn’t fit her show’s typical model, which looked at unsolved cases from the perspective of the people who’d lived for years under a cloud of suspicion. But the possibility of freeing a woman who had been wrongly convicted tapped into the sense of justice that had drawn Laurie to journalism in the first place.
She fought like the dickens to get Brett to approve the idea, selling him on the concept of wrongful convictions as a hot narrative trend. Then three days after Brett gave her an enthusiastic green light, the prosecution announced at a joint press conference with the law students that they were so convinced by the new evidence that they had agreed to release the defendant and reopen the case on their own initiative. Justice was served, but Laurie’s show was dead before arrival.
And so Laurie had moved on to her second choice: the murder of Dr. Conrad Harper, whose widow was now seated across from her, almost done with her dessert. “I’m terribly sorry, Lydia, but there’s an urgent matter at my office. I need to get back, but you said you wanted to speak in person about the show.”
Lydia surprised Laurie by setting down her spoon and signaling for the check.
“Laurie, I did want to meet in person,” she said. “I felt it was only fair. I won’t be participating after all.”
“What-”
Lydia held up a palm. “I’ve talked to two different lawyers. They both say I have too much to lose. I’d rather live with the dirty looks from the neighbors than put myself in legal jeopardy.”
“We already talked about that, Lydia. This is your chance to help find out who really killed Conrad. I know you have deep suspicions about his former student.” Her husband had been stalked by a student he’d failed the previous semester.
“And by all means, if you want to investigate him, be my guest. But I won’t be submitting to any interviews.”
Laurie opened her mouth to speak, but Lydia immediately interrupted. “Please, I know you need to get back to work. There’s nothing you can say to change my mind. My decision is final. I just felt that I should tell you the news in person.”
At that exact moment, the waiter arrived with the check, which Lydia promptly handed to Laurie. “It was very nice to have crossed paths with you, Laurie. I wish you all the best.”
Laurie felt a chill run up her spine as Lydia rose from the table and left her there, alone. She did it, Laurie thought, and no one will ever be able to prove it.
As she waited for the server to return with her credit card, Laurie sent a joint text message to Grace and Jerry: Tell Brett I’m ten minutes away.
What was she going to say once she got there? Her murdered-professor case was down the drain.
She was about to hit enter when she remembered Jerry’s earlier text about Crazy Casey. Was it possible? She revised her message. Did Casey Carter really ask to see me?
Grace immediately responded. YES! She’s in conference room A. A convicted killer is in our building! I nearly called 911.
As a journalist, Laurie had interviewed several people accused and even convicted of murder. Grace, however, still flinched at the thought. Jerry’s response arrived immediately after Grace’s. I was worried she’d leave but when I thanked her for waiting, she said we wouldn’t be able to get rid of her until she saw you!
Laurie found herself smiling as she signed the bill for lunch. Lydia Harper’s pulling out of the show may have been a blessing in disguise. Casey’s release had been the lead story on every network last night, and now she was asking for Laurie. She typed a new message from the cab. Buy me as much time as possible with Brett. Tell him I have a lead on a promising new case. I want to talk to Casey first.
4
When Laurie exited the elevator on the sixteenth floor of the Fisher Blake Studios offices in Rockefeller Center, she headed directly to the conference room. Grace had managed to learn from Brett’s secretary, Dana, that Brett would be on a conference call for the next fifteen or twenty minutes, but that he’d be continuing his hunt for Laurie once he was finished.
She was wondering why Brett was so eager to speak to her. She knew he was pushing her to lock down her next case, but that was nothing new. Was it possible he had somehow figured out in advance that the professor’s widow was going to cancel on her? She shook off the thought. Her boss might want people to think he was clairvoyant, but he wasn’t.
The woman waiting for her in the conference room sprang to her feet when Laurie opened the door. Laurie recognized Katherine “Casey” Carter immediately. Laurie was just out of college, beginning her journalism career, when the Sleeping Beauty case hit the headlines. The start of her “career” meant fetching coffee in the newsroom of a regional paper in Pennsylvania, but at the time, Laurie was in heaven, soaking up every ounce of training.
As an aspiring journalist, she’d been riveted by the trial. When she’d heard the news last night of Casey’s release, Laurie couldn’t believe it had been fifteen years already. Time flew so fast, though probably not for Casey.
When her trial had occupied the headlines, Casey had been absolutely stunning, with long, shiny dark brown hair, alabaster skin, and almond-shaped blue eyes that sparkled as if she was thinking of a joke. Right out of college, she had landed a coveted job as an assistant in the contemporary art department at Sotheby’s. She was pursuing a master’s degree and dreamt of having her own gallery when she met Hunter Raleigh III at an art auction. It wasn’t just because of her fiancé’s prominence that the nation had been riveted by the case. Casey was captivating in her own right.
Even after fifteen years, she was still beautiful. Her hair was shorter now, bobbed at the shoulders like Laurie’s own style. She was thinner, but looked strong. And her eyes still sparked with intelligence as she shook Laurie’s hand firmly.
“Ms. Moran, thank you so much for seeing me. I’m sorry I didn’t call for an appointment, but I imagine you get flooded by requests.”
“True,” Laurie said, gesturing that they should both take a seat at the conference table. “But not from people with names as well known as yours.”
Casey let out a sad laugh. “And which name are we talking about? Crazy Casey? The Sleeping Beauty Killer? That’s why I’m here. I’m innocent. I did not kill Hunter, and I want my name-my good name-back.”
For those who weren’t on a first-name basis with him, Hunter was Hunter Raleigh III. His grandfather, Hunter the first, had been a senator. Both of Hunter the first’s sons, Hunter Junior and James, joined the military after graduating from Harvard. After Hunter Junior was an early casualty of the Vietnam War, his younger brother, James, committed himself to a lifelong army career, and named his first-born son Hunter the Third. James ascended to the level of a three-star general. Even in retirement, he continued to serve as an ambassador. The Raleighs were a smaller version of the Kennedys, a political dynasty.
And then Casey killed the heir to the throne.
At first, the papers called Casey the Sleeping Beauty. She claimed to have been sleeping soundly while an unknown person or persons broke into her fiancé’s country house and shot him to death. The couple had attended a gala for the Raleigh family’s foundation in the city that night, but left early after Casey said she felt sick. According to her, she fell asleep in the car and did not even remember arriving at Hunter’s house. She woke up hours later on the living room sofa, wandered into the bedroom, and found him covered in blood. She was a young, beautiful up-and-comer in the art world. Hunter was a beloved member of a treasured American political family. It was the kind of tragedy that captivated the nation.