“We are,” Eleanor says. “So is Burt. He’ll meet us there.” When Lawrence starts to protest, she cuts him off. “For moral support. Burt has known Billy all his life.”

“Billy can’t stand Burt. He doesn’t need or want his support.”

“Moral support for me, Lawrence. Burt is showing up for me.”

I try to de-escalate the tension. “What about Diana Holly? Have we heard anything about her?”

For some reason this makes Eleanor laugh.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

She looks at Lawrence. “How similarly your minds work, as if you’re both on a single track.”

I turn to look at him too. “What’s she talking about?”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” Eleanor corrects him.

Lawrence rolls his eyes. “I made one phone call last night. Just one call, to the girl’s father, but he didn’t pick up and I didn’t leave a message. Nothing came of it, but Eleanor is convinced that because of my grievous error, they’ll ship Billy to Leavenworth and throw away the key.”

“For God’s sake, Lawrence,” Eleanor says. “Why would you contact the father of a girl who accused our son of sexual battery and felony rape?”

Lawrence throws up his hands. “He didn’t rape her.”

“That’s not the point.” She stares at him, unblinking, and for a long moment, they don’t move.

“Okay,” Lawrence concedes. “It was stupid.” Exhaling, he blows out a mouthful of air. “I just thought if we could talk, dad to dad, I could make him see that a trial would be just as tough on his daughter. He doesn’t want to watch her life get ripped apart, and her reputation trashed, any more than we want that for Billy. No one wins. That’s all I wanted to say, Eleanor—”

“This isn’t some deal you can finesse through back-door channels. The girl and her father are our adversaries.” Eleanor’s voice breaks. “Lawrence, why is this happening? Billy did nothing to deserve this.”

“Come here.” He beckons to her, but she doesn’t move. “Honey, I promise. Billy will be fine. We’ll clear this up, bring him home, and resume our lives. And you’re right. It was a mistake. But I honestly thought he and I could figure this out.”

“Stay off the phone, Lawrence.” She glances at me. “Cassie, dear . . .” She points to my legs. “Find darker stockings. Please, for my sake. Those make your legs look naked.” Reflexively, I bend down, but before I can reply, she pulls open the French doors and steps out onto the balcony.

Nothing knocks Lawrence off-balance like his wife’s disapproval. “I’ll be right back,” he says and follows behind her.

* * *