That's what Art had said, too. "Now, if they were sticking by that story, your brother would be appearing in circuit court. But he's not. He's going to appear in the Sarne District Court, which only handles misdemeanors. You'll see when we get in there. We'll have to wait our turn, so you'll listen to lots of other charges against other people." Her brown eyes summed me up while she spoke.
"Harper, honey, you're very wired up," she said after a moment or two. "You need to try to relax."
"You don't know how bogus this is!" I whispered. I was trying hard to keep my voice down, because we were in a public hallway and the people who went by were eyeing us curiously, but I was so anxious I thought my frayed nerves would snap. "Are you telling me that the Montana thing is just going to go away?"
She glanced down at her watch. "I think it just might. We have a while before they bring him in. Let's find a quiet place. I think you need to tell me the whole story."
I didn't think it would be possible to tell Phyllis Folliette everything that had happened in Sarne, but I did manage to arrange enough of it in a coherent narrative to bring it to a conclusion with Tolliver's arrest.
"It's definite that some force in this town is against you," she said, after a silence. "It's evident you're being hounded. No matter what I think of the way you make your living, Miss Connelly, what's being done to you is wrong. And your brother is apparently being held to reinforce the message that you're unwelcome here. I'll do my best to get him out. He was actually arrested in Montana last year, right?"
"Well, yes. This guy threw a rock at me. Tolliver got upset. Of course."
"Of course," she said, as if she routinely spoke to clients who'd been literally stoned. "Tolliver was upset enough to put the man in the hospital?"
"Hey, those charges were dismissed."
"Um-hm. I think you had some luck with the judge on that one."
"You have a sister?"
"Uh... yes."
"Someone throws a rock at her, you'd go after the rock-thrower, right?"
"I think I'd probably be taking care of my sister. I'd let the cops arrest the rock-thrower."
"Look at it from the guy point of view."
"Okay, I see your drift."
"You talked to Tolliver about this, right?"
"Yes, they let me see him this morning. He mentioned the incident, but didn't give any details."
I smiled. "That's Tolliver."
"You two are close," she observed. "Why the different names? You've been married?"
"No," I said. "His father married my mother when we were both in our teens." I didn't like explaining this.
She nodded, giving me a sideways look. She excused herself to go to the ladies' room, and I stared at my feet for a while. When Phyllis emerged, she did a lot of meeting and greeting on her way back to our bench, in particular with a man with graying hair, probably in his early fifties, who was wearing glasses and a nice suit.
After he went into the courtroom, Phyllis Folliette made her way back to me, giving me a brisk nod. "Time to go in or we won't get a seat," she said, and we joined a stream of people passing through massive double doors to the courtroom.
The ceiling was somewhere in the clouds over our heads. There was no telling how many words were buzzing around under that high ceiling, trapped there over the years. Phyllis and I sat quietly, and people began filing in. The jailers brought a line of prisoners in, and I got to see Tolliver.
I stood up, so he could see me right away, and he gave me a serious look. I sat down in the folding wooden seat. "He looks all right," I said to the lawyer, trying to reassure myself. "Don't you think he looks all right?"
"He does," she agreed. "I don't think orange is his color, though."
"No," I said. "No, it isn't."
As all the people in the courtroom seemed to be sorting themselves out, Phyllis said, "While we have a minute, I'm just curious. Are you any relation to the Cameron Connelly who was abducted in Texas a few years ago? I'm only asking because when Art Barfield called me, he said you had grown up in Texas and you and the girl who vanished both have what could be last names for your first name. If that makes sense."
"Yes, it makes sense," I said,