“I didn’t like the way they looked today,” he told her, meaning the jury. “I may be in trouble.”

“Don’t worry, Brother. It’s going to come out fine.”

He brightened. “You think so? Of course, you’re right. I’m getting to be a worrier.”

Three hours later, she went on the air with Barry Manning. He had brought video equipment, as well as audio.

He introduced her without his accustomed brashness. Clearly, he saw this as his graduation to the big time. “Doctor Sorrel tells me that she has something important to talk about, but she hasn’t said what. The sensible thing for me to do is get out of the way and let you listen. So here’s Jenna Sorrel.”

An hour later, she, Brad, Toni, and Jabr practically had to fight their way out of the rented studio. At the hotel, police ringed the entrance. Jenna looked at Brad.

“It’s okay,” he said. “They’re here to protect you—for now.”

42. Redemption

Redemption

That night, the hotel was a castle under siege. Scores of reporters and hundreds of idly or malevolently curious citizens from all over south- ern California milled outside.

At one point, a helicopter hovered, roaring, a few yards from Jenna’s window, a cameraman leaning from the door. His shot of Jabr closing the curtains went out live on CNN.

Jenna, completely drained, could barely focus on the TV, which was replaying the story in endless detail. From time to time, she tried to reach Karim, without success. Brad took charge with an air of quiet command. His first task was to find Jenna a lawyer.

“What about Rosalie and J.T.?” she wondered. She was comfortable with them.

“They’re Malik’s lawyers. I’m not sure it’s ethical to work for us, too. But I’ll try. You have an unlisted number for them?’’

“That little lady’s a pistol,’’ J.T. laughed when Brad reached him. “Tell her we’re holed up like in the Alamo over here, thanks to her. Tell her we love her anyway. Tell her we admire her. But doggone it, we just can’t represent her. Y’all are from Boston. Ever hear of a Boston fella name of Sam Adams Boyle? Hell of a trial lawyer.’’

Half an hour later, Sam Adams Boyle was on retainer.

“He was watching your interview with Barry when I called,’’ Brad told Jenna. “It was too late for the network news back East, but they were running excerpts on a special bulletin.’’

“God.”

On the TV in front of her, Jordan Chiles was proclaiming the whole thing a desperate stunt and promising to carry forward the murder charge against Malik. Chiles looked a bit desperate himself. The election was barely a week away, and his showcase was blowing up in his face.