Trip thought for a moment. He remembered standing on the deck of the house when something white came flying from a window above and crashed a few feet from him. It was the lid of a toilet tank. He’d jumped back as the kids around him screamed their approval. “Throw it out!” they chanted. “Shoot the shitter!” Trip, still feeling the adrenaline of the fight he and Will had with that little punk, had taken it as a personal challenge. He ran up the stairs and joined the kids rocking the base of the toilet back and forth. There was a wrenching sound, and then a pop. He and another boy had dragged the toilet across the floor, leaving a deep welt in the wood floors, and then stood with it at the edge of the balcony before tossing it over. “Did you happen to find a toilet on the deck?” he asked the prosecutor.

Hal picked up a file from his desk and looked through it, nodding his head. “Well,” he said, “it just so happens that you may have come to me at the right time. We’d like to get this all cleared up. But we must have the facts straight. Anyone going to back up your story? I don’t need it changing again a week from now.”

For once, Trip thought, he’d done things the right way. Planned ahead. It was just too bad that the first time he’d managed to do it was when he was planning for his own funeral. He took a deep breath. “Sure,” he said. “Hunter Finch. He’ll tell you. Will wasn’t there.”

Hal looked at him for a long moment, and Trip held his gaze. Then, suddenly, Hal rocked forward in his chair and slapped his palms on his desk, startling Trip. “Okay then,” he said. “I’ve had enough of this case. It’s a goddam three-ring circus. Have Donna get your attorney on the line. Let’s wrap this up.”

45

Trip parked his truck in front of the house. Will was sitting outside on the bench under the kitchen window, his head tilted back against the wall, but his eyes alert. Trip rolled down his window, and Will put a finger to his lips, silencing him. Will pointed, and Trip followed his gaze to a green Jaguar pulled up next to the O’Connors’ cars.

Will walked over to Trip’s truck and leaned on the door.

“What’s up?” Trip asked.

“Mr. Finch is here,” Will said. “He wanted to talk with Mom and Dad alone. I’ve been sitting here, trying to hear what they’re saying.”

“And?” Trip asked.

“It sounds like he’s offering to buy a piece of the orchard and lease it back to them. He said something about it being win-win. That he just wants to preserve the character of the farmland behind his house.”

“And they’re listening?” Trip asked.

“Yeah.”