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Chapters (86)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. Prologue
  5. Chapter 1
  6. Chapter 2
  7. Chapter 3
  8. Chapter 4
  9. Chapter 5
  10. ThursdayChapter 6
  11. Chapter 7
  12. Chapter 8
  13. Chapter 9
  14. FridayChapter 10
  15. Chapter 11
  16. Chapter 12
  17. Chapter 13
  18. SaturdayChapter 14
  19. Chapter 15
  20. Chapter 16
  21. SundayChapter 17
  22. Chapter 18
  23. Chapter 19
  24. MondayChapter 20
  25. Chapter 21
  26. TuesdayChapter 22
  27. Chapter 23
  28. Chapter 24
  29. Chapter 25
  30. Chapter 26
  31. Chapter 27
  32. Chapter 28
  33. Chapter 29
  34. Chapter 30
  35. Chapter 31
  36. Chapter 32
  37. Chapter 33
  38. Chapter 34
  39. Chapter 35
  40. WednesdayChapter 36
  41. Chapter 37
  42. Chapter 38
  43. Chapter 39
  44. Chapter 40
  45. Chapter 41
  46. Chapter 42
  47. Chapter 43
  48. Chapter 44
  49. Chapter 45
  50. Chapter 46
  51. Chapter 47
  52. Chapter 48
  53. ThursdayChapter 49
  54. Chapter 50
  55. Chapter 51
  56. Chapter 52
  57. Chapter 53
  58. Chapter 54
  59. Chapter 55
  60. Chapter 56
  61. Chapter 57
  62. Chapter 58
  63. Chapter 59
  64. Chapter 60
  65. Chapter 61
  66. FridayChapter 62
  67. Chapter 63
  68. Chapter 64
  69. Chapter 65
  70. Chapter 66
  71. Chapter 67
  72. Chapter 68
  73. Chapter 69
  74. Chapter 70
  75. Chapter 71
  76. Chapter 72
  77. Chapter 73
  78. Chapter 74
  79. Chapter 75
  80. Chapter 76
  81. Chapter 77
  82. Epilogue
  83. Acknowledgments
  84. About the Author
  85. Also by Greg Iles
  86. About the Publisher

My earpiece hisses as though transmitting from a deserted Arctic weather station; nothing gives me any clue as to what Quentin might be doing. By now the lack of cross-examination has become so routine that no one expects anything but a curt “no questions” from Quentin, followed by the district attorney calling his next witness.

But by the odd acoustics of cell-phone microphones, I hear the high-pitched whir of Quentin’s wheelchair in the pine-floored courtroom, which for a moment confuses me as much as it must everyone else. Then a warm, southern-accented baritone that makes Shad Johnson’s sterile Chicago voice sound like a resentful little boy’s says, “Ms. Revels, I can’t tell you how my heart goes out to you and your family for all these tragedies. I just have one or two questions for you, and then I’ll let you go.”

“Oh, thank God,” I breathe, making a fist with my right hand and pumping it in the air.

Annie stares at me like I’ve gone crazy. “What happened?”

“Rip Van Winkle just woke up.”

Chapter 29

“Do you believe that Dr. Tom Cage murdered your sister?”

The first question of Quentin’s cross-examination of Cora Revels is spoken in a gentle voice, but it comes through my earpiece with electric effect. The collective intake of breath in the courtroom sounds like a rush of wind. I’ll bet in all his coaching, Shad never prepared Cora Revels for that one.

After a long silence, Viola’s sister says, “I do believe Dr. Tom killed her. I don’t believe he wanted it to hurt like it did, like what we saw on that film. But sometimes even doctors don’t know what a drug will do. A nurse friend of mine told me that.”

“She’s absolutely right,” Quentin says. “I can tell you that from experience. I’ve taken medicines that make my legs hurt, and I don’t even have any legs.”

The crowd laughs hesitantly.

“Would you answer me this, Cora? Do you believe that Dr. Cage killed your sister to fulfill their suicide pact, out of mercy? Or did he do it to stop her from revealing the truth about their affair and the birth of that child? Or—did he do it to cover up whatever crime Viola seemed haunted by? The one she said Dr. Cage had helped her cover up?”

Quentin’s questions nearly knock me out of my chair, so it’s no surprise that Cora seems to be thrown off balance by his apparent willingness to admit that his client might have killed her sister.