CHAPTER 18

K ieran was beginning to hate these near-daily treks to the county jail, but she had no choice. She couldn't exactly just call Marin, and Marin had yet to use her phone time to call her. Maybe Kieran should read something into that, but she was determined to help her twin sister, even though said sister didn't seem to want to help herself.

Today, Marin was supposed to be meeting with her new public defender, and she'd, apparently, said that it was okay for Kieran to be in the meeting with her. Since her attorney would be there, it wasn't going to be recorded by the county, but Kieran had still double-checked with the public defender to verify that this wouldn't cause problems with privilege later. He'd told her that as long as she didn't say anything that could hurt her, it should be fine, and if he saw it going that way, he'd tell Kieran to leave.

She'd also wanted to check with Diego on this, but he had asked her for one thing, and that was the space to move on and to leave this case as a result of that ask, so she'd leave him alone. What was strange to her, though, was that Diego wasn't the first attorney she'd thought of texting. Carina Whitlock, the woman prosecuting her sister and who should have no vested interest in supplying Kieran with sound legal advice, was the first attorney on her mind, and that had been the case for at least the past several days and maybe even longer than that.

Trusting this woman was probably a mistake in the long run. That would be especially true if they went to trial since now, Carina would only be squaring off with some kid from the PD's office and not her more-than-talented ex-husband, who had a great win record and the support of a major law firm. Still, Kieran just couldn't stop herself from giving Carina that trust, and while that should concern her, it really didn't.

Carina was just… Carina. She was so smart and kept up with Kieran in a way that even Diego hadn't been able to. Being an engineer to non-engineers sometimes meant people just thought you typed a lot of zeros and ones into a computer, but really, it was a lot of logic, process, and understanding how things connected together. Working with a brand-new product manager was always challenging because they often didn't come out of college or from another non-product role with that understanding. They built mock-ups of how they wanted the product to look and behave, but the engineers were really the ones behind the scenes, telling them if it could work a certain way or not, if it would take forever to build, or if the product wasn't even meant to work like that. Logic was the core of most arguments – or, at least, Kieran thought it should be – so bantering back and forth with Carina was actually fun.

Bantering with Diego hadn't been as much fun for her. That was mainly because they hadn't done it all that often. Diego had hardly been home during their marriage, and on the few vacations they'd taken, he'd still worked through most of them. He'd be on the plane reviewing briefs or case notes, telling Kieran that he was doing it now so that when they arrived, he wouldn't have to work, but then, he'd work during their trip as well and would only be available for one to maybe two meals with her a day, and, of course, sex.

Carina wasn't just someone Kieran liked to argue or banter with, though. Had they met under different circumstances, Kieran was sure she would've accepted that ask for drinks. Carina was kind and funny and seemed to genuinely care about her. Why else would she help Kieran when it could clearly hurt her in the future? Kieran wanted to hang out with her more. God help her, she wanted to invite Carina over to her new, very nice apartment and watch a movie with her as the two of them ate popcorn with extra butter like they'd sort of done at Carina's place while they'd laughed a little and talked about the movie, the actors, and everything that was inconsequential. It had been a reprieve from the reality of her life right now, where her recently discovered twin sister was sitting behind bars for a crime she may or may not have committed, and when Kieran had left that night, she'd thought about asking Carina to do that again. She hadn't, though, because Carina would be sitting on the other side of the aisle whenever Marin's trial started, and if they were going to be friends after that, they might need to wait until it was over to try.

"So, I'm Frank Richard."

"Two first names?" she asked the public defender as she shook his hand.

"Yeah, I guess," he said, being taken aback.

Carina wouldn't have been taken aback. She would've said something equally meant to throw Kieran off her feet upon their first meeting. This wasn't going to be that, and Kieran could tell just from his appearance. Frank Richard was a lanky guy. He looked to be about 6'6" and weighed less than she did at her 5'6". His short brown hair had too much product in it, as if it would fly away if he didn't hold it down, and his brown eyes looked way too kind to be in this type of work. He might be the idealistic young attorney who got burned out in a few years on this job as a result. His suit was probably from one of those buy-one-get- one-free stores, which was really just a good deal the way Kieran saw it, but it clearly didn't fit him well because of his slender frame. If this guy was going for a ‘poor attorney who could use all the help he could get' look, he would've achieved level seven and would've received coins, gold, and a new suit as a result had this been one of her video games.

"She's ready for us," Frank added. "You two really do look alike."

"We're identical twins, so…"

"Right. I've only seen pictures, so it's just, in person, you have the same… like, everything."

"Sort of, yeah. Her hair is different than mine."

"Right. She's also much thinner."

Kieran lifted an eyebrow at him.

"Because she's been on the run and eating jail food; that's all I mean. No offense or anything, obviously."

"No offense taken," she said.

Frank handed her a visitor's badge, which she pinned to her shirt in a now-practiced ritual, and then, the door buzzed and clicked to let them in. Kieran wasn't sure if it was a good or a bad thing that those sounds no longer fazed her. They followed the guard down the hall until he let them into the visitor's room, where Marin was waiting, and closed the door behind them.

"This him?" Marin asked.

"Yes. This is Frank Richard. He's your new public defender. But, Marin, I can get you an attorney. I can pay." Kieran turned to Frank. "No offense."

"I am an attorney, but none taken, I guess," he replied as he sat down across from Marin and pulled out files.

"I don't want you spending any more money on this," Marin said. "I know you're probably loaded, Picket Fence, but save your money for all those rug rats you probably want to have."

"I don't want kids," Kieran replied. "And I'm not loaded, but I can help."

"We should get to it. I only have an hour before I have to go for a meeting," Frank said.

"He wants to keep his job," Marin said to Kieran. "Do you get bonuses for winning?" she asked him.

"What? No, Ma'am. We're not like corporate attorneys who take a percentage of their wins. We're here to provide you with representation. Now, I'd like to review the entire case, but we don't have much time today because I need to be in court this afternoon, and there's a ticking clock on this deal."

"The deal I already turned down," Marin told him.

"Marin, you should at least hear him out."

"What? You were the one who didn't want me to take it," Marin argued.

"I know. And you should at least listen to him. They have… more evidence since the last time we talked."

"More? What more?"

"For starters, they have your DNA on the gun," Frank pointed out.

"I know that already. But like I told Diego and Picket Fence here, it was my gun."

"Sorry?" Frank said, looking up from the file to her. "Your gun? I don't have that written here."

"Yeah, I bought it to defend myself against Nick. He beat me. I just figured, one day, he was bound to take things too far, and I could show him the gun and maybe scare him off and get out of there."

"You–" Frank turned to Kieran for a second before he turned back to Marin. "You bought the gun? You've admitted to this?"

"Yes. It's in there somewhere. I haven't lied yet, and I don't plan to start now. Look, Frank, I bought it a few days before Nick died. I know that looks bad, but it's the truth. I got it on the street for only a few hundred bucks. I was still planning on leaving Nick for good, but he'd been extra violent before I left, and like I said, I was worried he'd take things too far because he'd gotten messed up himself by his dealer for sampling too much of the product and not selling it. He took it out on me. I wanted the gun just in case it got worse."

"Did you fire it?"

"Practicing, yes, but not with bullets inside."

"So, you pulled the trigger?" Frank checked.

"Yes, but without bullets in it. I bought a box of them with the gun, but I didn't load it until later. I aimed it at a brick wall in an alley and pulled it a few times. The guy I'd gotten it from obviously didn't want me loading it with him standing right there, so I took everything home and hid it under my mattress after I loaded it. Took forever, too. They don't tell you how hard those clip things are to load." Marin laughed a little. "I meant to bring it when I left, but in my apparent concussion, I forgot about it when I ran. I didn't anticipate him bringing a board inside the house and hitting me with it."

"So, you're admitting that you…" He wrote something down. "Okay… They've got that already, I guess. But they now have something that I don't think they can get admitted in about what happened when you were in juvenile hall."

"She wasn't in juvenile hall," Kieran said.

"What are you talking about?" Marin asked.

"You were arrested as a teenager," Frank said, flipping pages, trying to catch up.

"Yeah, some kid said that I burned cigarettes on him, which I didn't. I didn't do time, though. They also said that would get wiped when I turned eighteen. How did you find it?"

"He didn't," Kieran answered for him. "The cops did. And so did Kenna, your favorite reporter."

"But how? It went away."

"Can you just tell me what happened?" Frank looked over at Kieran. "You should probably go for this."

"No, it's fine. There's nothing to tell. I'll repeat this to the other lawyer or in court anyway. I had a foster brother who was always trying to get with me."

"Get with?"

"Yes, Frank." Marin tilted her head at him, expressing her apparent annoyance. "Have sex with. You look young. Is that something you've not done yet?"

Kieran laughed a little at that.

"Go on," Frank said.

"Anyway, I didn't want to put out. He had a hard time taking no for an answer, so one night, when he slid into my bed after the foster parents went to sleep, and he was… ready for it, I pushed him away, and he got pissed at me. The next time he tried it, he asked for a blow job while we were standing outside the school, and he tried to get me against a wall when I said no again. I burned him with the cigarette I was smoking to get away. Next thing I knew, I was being called into the principal's office, and then I was arrested. The asshole had burned himself four more times to make it look like I'd been burning him repeatedly. I tried to defend myself, but no one would listen. They just moved me to a different home. If you're reading the file, it should have the same statement in there from me."

"It doesn't," Frank replied. "I don't know if part of the file is missing, but it's just the arrest record, a picture of the burns, and your mug shot."

"Great," Marin said sarcastically. "They're going to try to say that I do this shit a lot, huh? Hurt people?"

She was asking Kieran, but Kieran wasn't listening. She was too busy thinking about her sister being put in those situations where brothers weren't really brothers and sisters weren't really sisters, and without adult supervision, things happened that caused Marin pain. She tried to picture herself in Marin's shoes as the one who hadn't been adopted by her kind, loving parents, and she wasn't sure she would've been as strong as Marin had been to even make it out.

"They might," she said finally.

"Getting it admitted in won't be easy, and I think I'll be able to quash it if they try," Frank told them. "Even if they get it in, it could work for us on appeal. I might be able to use that admission to get a retrial. It's all a long shot, but we've got to work with what we're given."

"Trust me, I know that better than most," Marin stated. "You said Kenna has this, too?"

"Yeah," Kieran confirmed. "And I know you've been promised to get to control all the questions and what she shows to people at the end, but, Marin, things aren't going your way right now. I really don't think you should do this interview thing. It's a bad idea. If you get off, and they can't prosecute you again for this – sure, do the interview and tell your story. But people won't believe you if you do this now. There's just too much evidence, and there's really no other probable suspect out there; at least, not yet."

"She's right," Frank echoed. "I just got the case, and I'll keep looking, but we don't have anyone else who canbe placed in the house that night or even earlier that day. Do you know something we don't? Any name can help."

"We had people in and out of that house all the time. Nick was a dealer. People were always over, sampling new product or just picking up what they were buying or selling. And yeah, there were people there that day, but it was maybe around noon, and I don't have names for you."

"You don't have to worry about anyone hurting you," Frank told her, probably thinking Marin wasn't cooperating.

Marin laughed and said, "I'm not. I got hit in the head with a board, Frank. What I remember of that day is blurry, at best. I remember people, but not who. Besides, he was dealing. I rarely got actual first names. Most people went by nicknames or gave him no names at all. Hell, I even got the bus I took out of town wrong; things were so foggy for me. I wasn't in the house when it happened, anyway. I have no idea who could've been there then. The door was pretty much always unlocked, except for when we were sleeping, but it wasn't exactly Fort Knox – anyone could've picked it and gotten in."

"Okay. Well, that's not good news, but I'll keep working on his known associates at the time," Frank said.

"Great. Can I go now?" Marin asked. "I'm missing the morning soaps in the TV room."

"Marin, this is your life," Kieran remarked.

"I know. But what am I supposed to do here, Kieran? They've got an agenda, and it's to keep me behind bars."

"Maybe you should consider the deal. It's better now. Ten years still, but out in five on good behavior and only two years of probation after that. It was five years."

"Still in here for something I didn't do," Marin replied. "But that's the hand I was dealt, huh?"

Kieran didn't know what to say to that, so she just sat there as Marin called for the guard, who came in and undid her cuffs to walk her out of the room.

"If she doesn't take this deal, we'll lose at trial," Frank said softly. "It's not just that I won't beat Carina Whitlock, who is a legend in her office, and I'm man enough to admit that she'll beat me – I've got nothing. I don't even have a character witness to put on the stand. I can't use you. You just met her."

"I know. I'll keep trying," Kieran replied.

"Please do. If she really didn't do this, she doesn't deserve to be here."

"Unfortunately, I don't think the justice system works like that, do you?"

Frank shook his head and gathered his files back into his case.

"I'm just going to go put more money into her commissary. It's the only thing I can do for her, so I'm trying to make sure there's always something there."

"You're here, Kieran," Frank pointed out as he stood. "And that counts for something, too. Most people in her shoes don't have someone like you."