I think back to Charlotte, the parts of her life that she hid from me, and the way she wrote about passion causing you to do things that previously would have shocked you to your core. I recall telling Lauren how I felt betrayed by Charlotte for not confiding in me about that part of herself. She told me that it wasn’t my place to judge because I didn’t live Charlotte’s life. I had accepted that. Now I wonder if she was really talking about herself.

I was completely unaware of Lauren’s sexual preferences, and Dana’s proclivity to commit murder is even further beyond my ken. But I’ve been a prosecutor long enough to know that crimes of passion—even the premeditated kind—defy rational thought. Dana Goodwin is certainly not exempt from being hurt so badly by a lover that, in a moment of insanity, murder might have seemed a proportional response.

The press room at One PP is at least twice as large as the space devoted to that use at the DA’s office. The back wall is wood paneled and the requisite American and New York State flags flank the podium. A sign reading “Police Department of the City of New York” is front and center, in case anyone didn’t know where they were. It’s already a standing-room-only crowd when Gabriel and I arrive, which means that the invitation to the press must have gone out even before Dana was arrested.

The police department’s press liaison, a thin, thirtysomething blonde I recognize from her prior job as a reporter on the local news, calls everyone to attention. Speaking into the microphone so her voice comes out of the speakers on the sides of the room, she introduces Calhoun Johnson and Drake McKenney. Apparently, no one else is going to get billing aside from the two top dogs.

Johnson steps to the microphone first. Even in civilian clothing, the Commissioner cuts a military figure. McKenney stands off to the side, mentally rehearsing whatever he’s going to say when it’s his turn. I wonder if McKenney has index cards tucked into his suit jacket pocket for this occasion too.