“I mean, I don’t want anyone else to have gone through what I did, but I guess I’d at least feel validated.”

“There’s a woman named Katy Barnes.” Lindsay told her about Katy’s deleted Facebook posts alluding to other children being abused at the Edgemoor Park camp. “She won’t talk to me, but she might open up to you. I’m pretty sure she got paid off with a nondisclosure clause, probably by LockeHome.”

“And whoever covered up for Hitch’s abuse might not have wanted my brother coming forward, given everything he knew. Especially if she was about to launch a Senate bid.”

Neither of them mentioned Melanie Locke’s name aloud, but they were clearly on the same page. The exposure of her husband’s crimes would overshadow her entire life’s work. “Do you think you could look into that?”

“I told you: I’m gonna be a lawyer. I got this.”

32
Wednesday, June 23, 10:15 a.m.

The East Hampton Town Justice Court, tucked behind City Hall, one turn before the bagel shop, looked more like a suburban post office than a courthouse. Lindsay jumped out of the car at the curb and rushed past two news teams with camera crews.

On the door to the main courtroom hung a piece of paper listing the docket for the morning. It was a single case: People v. Tara King, with a Judge Catherine Harper presiding. Lindsay could hear voices inside. She cracked the door open.

A man stood in the front row behind the courtroom bar, addressing the court. “That’s correct, Judge. I personally notified Ms. King’s lawyer last night as to the time and location of the hearing this morning.”

Lindsay recognized the lawyer at the prosecution table as Mike Nunzio. She had tried a felony assault case against him two years earlier, when he was still considered an up-and-comer. Now he was Suffolk County’s go-to ADA for major trials. She was about to let the door close when the man who had been speaking turned his head slightly. She recognized him as Carter Decker. Her eyes moved to the defense table. Sitting there alone was a woman in dark blue scrubs, her hair pulled into a knot. It was Hope.

“I’m here, Your Honor,” she said, rushing to the front of the courtroom. “Lindsay Kelly on behalf of the defendant, who’s known as Hope Miller. We do not stipulate that she has ever used the name Tara King.”

“We called this case fifteen minutes ago, Counselor. Your client, whatever name she is using, was in discernible distress at the lack of representation.”