Say You're Sorry Page 37

He gave her a quizzical look. “What?”

“Nothing.” She turned away, her face hot.

“Any return call from Jacob’s father?” Lance asked.

“Let me check. He’s an attorney, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he makes us wait a bit just to show he can.” Morgan pulled out her phone. “That’s what I would do. There’s always some game-play involved with lawyers. But he knows we’ll just get a subpoena, so in the end, he’ll cooperate.”

“That’s annoying.”

“That’s the legal system.” Morgan opened her email account. “I’m surprised. Jacob’s father returned my email already. He wants to meet.”

“Where?”

“Let me call him.” Morgan made the call and got an immediate response. A minute later, she ended her call and lowered the phone. “He says we can drop by the house now.”

“Maybe he isn’t a game player.”

Morgan shook her head. “He’s a lawyer. He’s playing an angle. I just don’t know what it is, which makes me uncomfortable.”

“It’s sad that our legal system is a game,” Lance said.

“Isn’t it?” Morgan said. “I’ve spent most of my career trying to figure out the other side’s ulterior motive.”

“Doesn’t that get old?”

“Faster than you can imagine,” Morgan agreed.

“Then why do you do it?”

“Today, I’m doing what I do for Nick,” Morgan said. “I just know in my heart that he’s innocent. That’s never happened before in my career. I’ve always been convinced that the people I’ve prosecuted were guilty. But this time is different in every way.”

“Then we won’t stop until we solve the case. Where to next?” Lance stopped at an intersection, and Morgan gave him the address of the Emerson residence.

“That’s in your neighborhood. Do you know the Emersons?”

“No. My grandfather knows both the Emersons and the Palmers in passing but not well. Grandpa isn’t a social butterfly.” And since she’d moved back to Scarlet Falls, Morgan had avoided people as much as possible.

“Does he have an opinion on Jacob Emerson?” Lanced asked.

“Grandpa has an opinion on everything,” Morgan said. “But he’s probably had more contact with the parents than their teenage son. The only reason Grandpa knows Tessa and Nick is because they both were in our house regularly.”

As Lance turned down the Emersons’ street, a BMW parked in the driveway. A young blond man climbed out of the car and disappeared into the house.

“That looked like Jacob,” Morgan said.

“I wonder where he was.” Lance parked the Jeep at the curb in front of the Emersons’ house. “What’s our approach?”

She gathered her tote and thoughts. “I’ll ask questions and take notes. I want you to watch them both. Facial expressions. Body language. Just like it was with Kevin Murdoch, their words will only be part of the story.”

They walked up the driveway and rang the bell. A maid in a gray uniform admitted them. Built of cedar and glass, the house sat on high ground with a stunning view of the river. Morgan had thought her grandfather’s view was prime, but it didn’t compare to this one. The maid led them to the back deck, where Mr. Emerson and his son sat at a round table.

Seventeen-year-old Jacob was blond and athletic. Sitting next to his father, he had none of the arrogance he’d displayed in the fight video. He wore a blue polo shirt, dark jeans with no holes, and boat shoes. Forty-eight-year-old Phillip Emerson, in gray slacks and a white shirt, looked as if he’d just walked off the golf course. His blond-and-silver hair was cut short. They both stood as Lance and Morgan stepped outside. The maid moved aside as introductions and handshakes commenced.

“Would you like an iced tea?” Mr. Emerson asked.

“Yes. Thank you.” Morgan accepted, hoping the polite and social feel of the meeting would spill over into cooperation.

The maid disappeared. Morgan and Lance took seats at the table. The maid returned in a minute and set a glass in front of each of them.

“First of all, I’d like to thank you for your cooperation,” Morgan said.

Mr. Emerson flashed a cold smile. “We both know you can subpoena my son. While we can be civilized about the situation, let’s not pretend it’s anything other than a legal requirement. My son has already told the police what he knows. You’ve no doubt already read his statement. He’ll answer all your questions as required by law, but nothing more.”

“We appreciate your candor,” Morgan returned. She opened her tote and pulled out a notebook, where she’d jotted down a list of questions. She’d let the interview guide itself, but there were specific points where she wanted to compare today’s answers to Jacob’s original statement.

Mr. Emerson leaned his tanned forearms on the edge of the table. “I’m also well aware that this is a fishing expedition. You’ll grab hold of anything that might cast doubt on your client’s innocence. I won’t let my son be Nick’s Hail Mary pass. So please keep your questions on point.”

Morgan nodded. So much for cooperation. What had she expected? If she proved Nick innocent, someone else had to be guilty. Mr. Emerson was well aware that his son, as Tessa’s ex-boyfriend, would be high up on the list of alternative suspects.

“Jacob,” she began. “You attended the lake party last Thursday night?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jacob folded his hands in his lap.

“What time did you arrive?” she asked.

“I don’t know exactly. I wasn’t checking the time.” His words were careful.

“Can you give me your best estimate?” she asked.

“Shortly before nine o’clock,” Jacob said.

“Were you the first one at the party?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Who was already there?”

“I don’t remember.” He didn’t break eye contact, but there was a slight twist to his mouth and a gleam in his eye that felt . . . mocking.

As if he was lying.

And he was good at it.

She moved on. “When did Nick and Tessa arrive?”

“I wasn’t watching the clock so I can’t give you the time.”

Morgan tried to pin him down. “Before or after you got there?”

“After,” he said.

Morgan made a note. She set down her pen and gave him her full attention. “Can you tell me what happened between you and Nick?”

“Nick and Tessa arrived at the lake. I said hello to her. She said hi back. Nick jumped between us and told me to stay away from her. He shoved me. I shoved back. We exchanged a few punches. It was over quickly. Nick and Tessa left. I stayed for another hour or so, and then went home.” Jacob recited this part without inflection, as if he’d memorized it.

“Were either of you injured in the fight?” she asked.

Jacob gave his head a slight shake. “I wasn’t.”

“What about Nick?”

“It was dark. I couldn’t see,” Jacob said.

Morgan changed her tactic, trying to elicit an emotional response. “Why do you think Nick got angry when you greeted Tessa?”

Mr. Emerson broke in. “There’s no way for my son to know what the other boy was thinking.”