Sisters - By Patricia MacDonald Page 0,34

Alex said. ‘That’s what Elaine thought.’

‘There’s no way I could know, if it was expunged.’

‘Does it make you wonder,’ said Alex, ‘if maybe . . .’

Marisol shook her head as if to shut off the flow of Alex’s words. ‘Hey, this appeal is on solid ground. One thing has nothing to do with the other.’

‘Not legally, maybe . . .’ said Alex.

‘Legally is all I’m concerned with. Look,’ said Marisol, getting up from her chair. ‘I better get going. It’s bath time and story hour for us. Luckily my mother already fed her. Thank heavens for my mother.’ She walked out into the hall and called out to Iris. ‘Come on, Iris, we’re going.’ She crouched down and began putting Iris’s little jacket back on her.

Alex chewed her lip. ‘Does this . . . change anything for you?’

‘What do you mean?’ the law student asked.

‘Well, I mean, about Dory. What you think about her case?’

Marisol shrugged. ‘This case is about a defendant being entitled to a vigorous defense. And now, thanks to you, we may have actual, physical proof that she was poorly defended. If we find that receipt, that new trial is a given. I feel very confident about that.’ Then Marisol peered at her. ‘Why? Does it change things for you?’

‘I guess I find it a little . . . worrisome.’

Marisol patted her forearm. ‘If we find that receipt, that’s all we need. It’s not DNA, but it’s enough. Just focus on that.’ Marisol bent down and scooped her child up in her arms. ‘It is going to be a long day tomorrow. I have to get that warrant, and find out how all this is going to affect the appeal I’ve already written. That was good work, Alex. Really.’

Alex smiled weakly. ‘Goodbye, Iris.’

‘Say ’bye,’ Marisol instructed the toddler.

‘’Bye,’ Iris whispered sweetly.

‘I’ll be in touch,’ said Marisol, heading out the door.

Alex felt a little surge of anxiety. For Marisol, this was a legal exercise. After all, Dory wasn’t her sister. ‘Drive carefully,’ she said. ‘That snow is slippery.’

Marisol smiled, flashing her beautiful teeth and cradling her daughter. ‘I am always careful,’ she said.

TWELVE

The next day, Alex tried to resume the cleaning out of the house, but she could not concentrate on the task since all her thoughts seemed to revolve around Dory, the coat and the awaited call from Marisol. Finally she pulled on a jacket and some boots, stuffed her phone in her pocket, and headed out of the house. She had a destination in mind. In downtown Chichester there was a store which took up half a block and sold used books and CDs. She thought she would ask the proprietor if he would accept the books that Seth didn’t want. Or, if Seth didn’t come back to look through them, accept them all. It was mostly an excuse to get out of the house.

The walk downtown was chilly but bracing. By the time she got to the store, Alex was feeling slightly more human. She opened the door and the smell of mold and dry paper greeted her. She tried not to inhale. The portly, bespectacled man behind the counter was busy going through some bags of books which had just been brought in by another customer. Alex had to wait her turn.

While she waited, she began to look through the CDs. There was a vast collection of rhythm and blues, opera and even folk music, but very little in the way of country western. She searched through the meager collection in vain.

‘Are you following me?’ asked a voice behind her.

Alex turned around and blushed at the sight of Seth Paige, who was holding half-a-dozen CDs in his hand. She did feel a little bit as if she had conjured him with her thoughts. ‘Oh, hi,’ she said. ‘Actually, I think you’re following me.’

‘That could be. I love this place, don’t you?’ he asked.

Alex nodded. ‘I wanted to ask the owner if he would take any of the books you don’t want.’

‘I am going to get those out of your way. I came back yesterday to have a look, but you weren’t there,’ he said.

‘No,’ said Alex. ‘I’ve been pretty busy.’

He seemed to be waiting for her to elaborate, but she hesitated, not knowing where to begin. Seth frowned and glanced down at the rows of CDs divided by music style and artists. ‘So, you’re a country music fan?’ he asked.

‘No. Not really. I was just looking for a CD of Lauren Colson. Dory’s sister.