shrubbery. I went over and looked at it, but I didn't touch it. It looked like clothing with blood on it. Then I saw the handle of a large knife, as if somebody had tried to cover it with the shrubs."
"What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything. Ten seconds after I saw the stuff, officers seemed to come from everywhere. There must have been seven or eight of them, guns drawn. They read me my rights and brought me down here."
"Do you think they had been following you, or waiting at the site?"
She shakes her head. "I don't know, maybe both. There were a lot of them." She shakes her head again, this time with more sadness. "It was weird; I helped train two or three of them."
I'm silent for a few moments, trying to figure this out. None of these pieces fit together.
"Andy, why did you send me out there?" It's not an accusation, just a need to know.
"I had information that the killer's clothes might be there. I figured that if they were, it would get Oscar off the hook. It should do the same for you."
Laurie speaks quietly, and for the first time I can hear the fear overtaking the anger. "Andy, they were my clothes."
She can't have said what I think she said. "What?"
"The clothes with blood on them ... they were mine. I don't know how they got there ... I never even noticed them missing from my closet."
In a flash that feels exactly like panic, I realize that this is the worst of both worlds. We are facing a situation that makes absolutely no sense, yet clearly has been planned and executed with precision.
"Laurie, we will get through this."
"And where will I be while we're doing that?" she asks.
She's talking about the possibility of bail, which I started thinking about on the way over here. It's very problematic. Oscar was charged with first-degree murder, and there's no doubt that the same will be the case with Laurie. It's very difficult to get bail in that circumstance, and I can certainly count on Dylan to oppose it.
"Bail's going to be tough," I tell her. I don't lie to clients, and I'm certainly not going to start with Laurie.
She nods, knowing very well how the system works. "If we don't get it, and even if we do, we need to get to trial as quickly as possible."
"It's way too early to be talking about a trial. We're going to try and end this before we even get there."
"I can't sit in a cage, Andy."
I would love to tell her she won't have to, but it's not within my power. This point is driven home all too clearly when the guard comes into the room to take her back to that cage.
I tell Laurie that I'll be back to see her tomorrow, at which time I'll have learned much more about the situation, and we can talk about it in detail. I tell her again that we'll get through this, that everything is going to be fine. I tell her that I love her and that she needs to keep her spirits up.
Which brings me to the things I don't tell her. I don't tell her that they couldn't have had time to test the blood on the clothing yet, so they can't be sure it's Dorsey's blood. I don't tell her that that means there is other evidence against her, evidence that the police feel independently justifies the arrest. I don't tell her that I know in my gut there are other shoes to drop, that things are going to get worse before they can get better.
I don't tell her that every single cell in my body is scared shitless.
Once Laurie has been led away, I go downstairs to see Sergeant Luther Dandridge, head of the detail that deals with the prisoners. I know him, but not well, and there's no real reason he would do me any favors. I take a shot anyway and ask him to make things as comfortable as possible for Laurie.
It turns out that he knows and likes Laurie, and he tells me he's already arranged for her to be kept away from the rest of the population and treated as well as possible. When I hear him say it, I want to kiss and hug him and maybe give him the eleven million I didn't give cousin Fred.