Unintended Consequences - By Marti Green Page 0,9

Doug had made to him helped him get to that point. Yet she sometimes missed having a larger family. She’d met many couples with Williams-syndrome children who had other children. Not just older siblings but younger ones as well. They’d managed, even done well. She and Doug had made their decision, though, and it was too late to look back.

Dani shook her head over her procrastination and punched Robert Wilson’s number into the phone. After the third ring, a pleasant-sounding female voice answered. “Law office of Robert Wilson. Marion Boland speaking. How may I help you?”

Her formality, especially in a small-town law office, caught Dani by surprise, but she quickly explained that she represented George Calhoun and asked to speak to her boss.

“I’ve been expecting your call,” were the first words she heard when Wilson answered. He had a deep voice, with a gruffness that bespoke annoyance at the interruption of his work.

“Good. I hope that means George told you he’d contacted HIPP.”

“Not exactly, but I knew he felt desperate, and when I told him I couldn’t do anything more, I figured he’d go fishing for one of you guys.” His tone suggested disdain, though Dani didn’t know whether it was for Innocence Projects in general or specifically for their mutual client.

“George signed a retainer letter for our services, and with the execution coming up so quickly, I’d like to get a copy of your files as soon as possible,” she said. “Of course, I’ll fax you the retainer for your records.”

“Sure, sure. You go ahead and spin your wheels. I’ll have my secretary overnight them. But you’re wasting your time.”

“Why? Because you believe he’s guilty or because you don’t think we’ll be able to stop the execution?”

“Oh, he’s guilty, all right. No doubt about that. But I meant the legal stuff. I’ve done all the appeals, even tried twice to get the Supreme Court to hear the case. I’ve managed to drag it out this long, but there’s no more buttons to push. I’ve wasted plenty of time on him, believe me, and I sure wasn’t getting rich off it. Barely covered my expenses. You know how it is.”

She did know. Wilson might be right—there might no longer be any basis for appeal—but Dani’s gut told her he hadn’t pushed himself too hard on this case. If Wilson believed his client was guilty, she suspected, he took whatever money Calhoun had but didn’t work himself into a sweat on his behalf.

“Tell me, Mr. Wilson—”

“Oh, call me Bob. We’re informal here.”

“Okay, Bob. I’ve only read the facts from the appellate decisions. I’m still raw on this. What evidence did the prosecution have besides the wife’s confession?”

“Besides the confession?” he exploded. “What goddamn else did they need? Neither one ever gave me an explanation for what happened to their daughter. You think a four-year-old just picks herself up and walks away?”

“Is it possible she died in her sleep? Maybe from sudden infant death syndrome? And they panicked, afraid they’d be blamed, and buried her in their yard?”

“Listen, sweetheart, when a jury comes back and hands you a death sentence, you don’t clam up because you’re afraid you’ll be blamed for something you didn’t do. You’re already blamed for it. It’s been over nineteen years and still not one blessed word about where his daughter disappeared to. Just, ‘That girl wasn’t my daughter,’ over and over again. The guy’s screwy.”

Dani’s ears pricked up. “Do you think he’s disturbed? Does he ever appear disoriented or delusional to you?”

“He’s crazy like a fox, you know, just about this dead girl. On everything else he’s as sane as I am.” Bob laughed. “Well, who knows how sane I am? I stuck with this crazy case long after I should have.”

After she hung up, Dani thought to herself that Wilson was right. He had stuck with the case longer than he should have. A convicted murderer claiming innocence should have had a lawyer who believed in him. She didn’t know yet whether she was that lawyer. That decision would have to wait until she got the records and met Calhoun.

CHAPTER

4

Bob Wilson kept his word. The next day piles of boxes were stacked in a corner of HIPP’s conference room, all with the return address “Law Firm of Robert Wilson, Esq.”

“You take the appeals, I’ll take the trial transcript and exhibits,” Dani said to Melanie. It would take days to go through everything thoroughly, and they’d both be working well into the night and over the weekend.

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