It was bad enough she had to deal with her father sneaking out of the home on her last night in town, but even worse was having to ask Noah for help. She’d had too much wine to drive. And she didn’t want to ruin Cindy’s evening with Tommy or put her son through the ordeal. She had little choice but to call him. Besides, she told herself, Noah would be better with the nursing home staff. And he liked playing the white knight; he always had.

“He’s gonna be fine,” Noah said, his hand on the steering wheel. He was one of those people who never lost their cool. She couldn’t recall a single instance when Noah Brawn had lost his shit. When she’d broken it off in college, he was as cool as a cucumber. It wasn’t that he lacked passion. His speeches on false confessions were the stuff of a brimstone preacher. Even his stump speech for mayor back in the day had some fire in it. It was just that his steady-as-they-go demeanor also revealed an emotional distance.

“I know,” Liv said. “I’m just so pissed. I mean, how hard is it to keep an eye on an elderly man with dementia?”

Noah just nodded as he navigated the dark roads to the rural highway. After a time he said, “So, I’m waiting.”

Liv looked at him quizzically.

“For you to say the magic word—pardon.”

Liv regarded him. He looked straight ahead, the profile of his strong jaw and his serious expression reminded her of segments from “A Violent Nature.” Maybe it was all the wine, but she decided not to insult his intelligence and deny that she wanted his help.

“Can you—help, I mean?”

“I’d like to.”

“But…”

He turned his head to her, then looked back at the road. “But assuming Turner resigns, which is probably a safe bet, I’ll be the new guy. I wasn’t elected into the office, so I need to tread carefully. It’s not just my decision. I’ve got to convince the pardon board, and two of the three members are Turner lackeys.”

“I understand,” she said, deflated.

“I didn’t say no. It’s just we’ve gotta be smart about it. I’m gonna need you to follow the usual procedures.”

“Easy enough. We’ve filled out the pardon paperwork twice, though I don’t think Turner ever looked at our submissions.”

“You can count on that,” Noah said. “But I will. Still, we need something new. Something that doesn’t look like I’m biased or that I’m just trying to stick it to Turner, who still has friends I need. Is there any new evidence?”

“Nothing concrete.”

“What about the video your daughter posted? Of the party.”