He pushes back his chair, rises, and looks down at me with the closest facsimile of compassion he can manufacture. “This case is going to trial, Penn. Even if it was you sitting in this chair, if you knew what I know, you’d go forward and indict for murder. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do to change that.”

“Motive, Shad. I’m not leaving this office without a motive. Where did it come from? The sister? Cora Revels?”

“I’m not saying another word.”

“The son, then. Lincoln.”

Shad looks down at his desk. Then he raises his eyes and says very softly, “Have you asked yourself why a mother would want to be euthanized a half hour before her son arrived to tell her good-bye?”

As soon as the words leave his lips, I realize I have no answer.

“A mother wouldn’t want that, would she?” Shad asks gently. “Viola’s killer wanted her silenced before her son got there. He didn’t want Viola to be able to talk to her son face-to-face.”

My cheeks are burning. “You’re saying my father killed Viola Turner to silence her?”

Shad stares at me with the calm certainty of a man who believes he has the full weight of the facts behind him. But surely not even Shad Johnson could actually believe such a thing about my father? Maybe he doesn’t really believe it, I think. Maybe he’s content to know that others might believe it, or be made to. But no … that’s wishful thinking. The look in the DA’s eyes is clear: he believes my father committed murder last night.

“What kind of lawyer is the son?” I ask, an unsettled feeling growing in my belly. “Criminal? Corporate? Bankruptcy? Ambulance chaser?”

Shad shrugs as though this is irrelevant, then walks to his window and looks down to the street where Henry was parked only a few minutes ago. He taps the window glass lightly, his brown fingers moving like those of a violinist.

“He’s smart,” he says. “You sense that right away.”

“You didn’t know him in Chicago?”

Shad laughs. “God, no. The man went to a night law school.”

Our DA has always been quick with contempt. “You said he was about forty?”

“Somewhere around there.”

“Did you know he’s about to be disbarred for embezzling client escrow funds?”

Shad seems to freeze for a moment, but then he looks back from the window like a man whose mind has moved on to other issues. “You need to get your father a good criminal defense lawyer, Penn. Don’t even think about representing him yourself.”

“Are you seriously thinking about arresting him?”

“No, but Billy Byrd is.”

A current of fear shoots through me. “When?”