“The new DA, the one who will be prosecuting your brother, is Brad Anderson. He has a personal stake in this case.” DeFiore pauses. “His wife’s sister was Halliday’s accuser number one. Halliday retired to Boca Raton and plays golf every day. Meanwhile, Anderson’s sister-in-law suffers from crippling anxiety, and hasn’t worked in more than ten years. Anderson is rabid.”

The waitress offers coffee refills. DeFiore checks his watch, then nods. “One more cup, then I gotta hit the road.”

“Does this mean we won’t get the case thrown out?” Lawrence asks.

“Thrown out?” DeFiore squints at him and shakes his head. “No way. Not with Anderson. Not in this climate. Don’t get me wrong—I understand why Burt might have thought so. Given your son’s prior relationship with the accuser, this case looks like a non-starter, especially if Princeton can confirm the girl’s stalking and we can produce her texts. But we run into trouble with the eyewitness statements. They . . .” Trailing off, he looks down for a moment, and as I feel my impatience grow, it’s easy to picture DeFiore in a courtroom, pausing mid-sentence to heighten the drama. “Two young men saw them at the scene. Both in their twenties. Both college students and unknown to your son and the accuser. So they’re credible. And they both said the same thing: your son was assaulting a girl who appeared to be unconscious.”

“Objection!” I say. “No way.” Unconscious? According to Nate, Diana was hysterical. What else was lost in translation?

DeFiore turns my way. “Excuse me?”

“Diana Holly is a liar. The accuser—Diana Holly—she lies compulsively.”

“She used to sneak into Billy’s room when he was in class,” Nate adds. “He’d come back, and she’d pretend to be sleeping. Once he was so freaked out, he called 911. The police must have records.”

“Maybe they do.” DeFiore shrugs. “So what? Those events have no bearing on her state of mind two nights ago. The EMT and sheriff’s reports will determine that. Once I get them—and CCTV footage from the streets and playground—I’ll know more. Of course, we’d argue it was dark, the witnesses were a distance away, what have you. But assaulting a woman who blacked out is a much higher level of charge. An unconscious person can’t give consent, no matter how many times she may have lied in the past.”

“Look, Mr. DeFiore,” I say.

“Peter, please.”

“Peter. Diana Holly is disturbed. If you can establish a pattern of abusive behavior—”

“Knock it off, Cassie,” Nate says. “Let the guy do his job.”

DeFiore looks amused. “I’ll take that under advisement . . . uh . . . Counselor? I thought you were studying”—he checks his notes—“political science?”

“I watch a lot of Law and Order.”