“I don’t mean to sound presumptuous,” I tell her, “but are you heading out on a date?”
“Of course you mean to sound presumptuous,” she says. “It’s kind of your thing, isn’t it? Or at least one of them.”
“You haven’t returned any of my calls,” I say.
“Kind ofmything,” she says. “Not returning your calls. And as for your question: It’s none of your goddamn business where I’ve been.”
I’m seated on the couch. She’s still standing and pacing, occasionally checking the phone in her hand.
“Iamgoing out, as a matter of fact,” she says. “Not thatthatis any of your goddamn business.”
“I need to know why you are willing to waive spousal privilege and testify for the prosecution,” I say.
“Because despite everything, I still love my husband,” she says, “and have never believed he is capable of murder. I believe I can convince the jury of that.”
“Or,” I say, “you’re as good a liar as he is and since you can’t murderhimfor the way he’s humiliated you, you want to get on the stand and do everything possible to bury the sonofabitch.”
She doesn’t so much smile as bare her teeth. “I guess you’ll just have to wait to find out, won’t you?”
“Don’t do this, Claire,” I say. “Because if Katherine Welsh gets you on the stand, the one who’s going to get buried is you. Trust me.”
“See, that’s the thing,” she says. “I’m asking you to trustme.”
I shake my head. “You need to sit this out,” I tell her. “Bynotsitting in that chair. You need to call Welsh and tell her that you’ve changed your mind on spousal privilege. Once you do, she can’t compel you to testify.”
“You don’t understand,” she says. “I’m the one who went to her.”
I touch a finger to my ear, as if I hadn’t heard her correctly.
“You,” I say. “Went to her.”
“I thought it would be more powerful if I were her witness, and not yours,” she says. “It’s brilliant, actually.”
“Yeah,” I say, “if it’s an episode ofLaw & Order.But it’s not.”
“I’m doing this.”
“What you’re doing is walking into a trap.”
She shakes her head now. “I know what I’m doing,” she says. “Now please go. I really do have plans, and my dinner companion will be arriving soon. And please note, for the record, that I said companion, and not date.”
“Claire,” I say. “I couldn’t begin to unpack your relationship with your husband. Or his with you. I have more than enough trouble understanding my own relationship with him. But you cannot do this.Can not.Whether you sincerely want to help him or not.”
“For the last time,” she says. “Trust me.”
“You know who I trust?” I say.“Me.”
“You don’t know what I’m going to tell her.”
“Okay,” I say. “You got me. Whatareyou going to tell her?”
“That I was with Rob the night of those murders,” she says.
NINETY-SIX
AFTER LYING TO MY face, Claire looks down and checks her phone again.
“But we both know you weren’t with him,” I say.
