Life Sentences Read Online Free Page B

until—unless—she got Buddy into the juvenile system, she had to keep him from tainting his future jury. Which would not, of course, be a jury of his peers, but a dozen middle-class mothers and fathers who would be undone by his poise, his composure. Especially—shades of O.J.!—if he stuck to this help-me-find-the-real-killer scenario.
    â€œNo, it’s not about Buddy. She wants to ask you about an old case?” The girl squinted at her own handwriting. “Something about a calley-ope?”
    â€œA calley—do you mean Calliope?” Gloria could afford to keep her office in disarray and limit her exposure to computers because the entire history of her practice was always available to her. She had a prodigious memory. On those rare occasions when someone felt intimate enough to challenge her on her drinking, she maintained that it was the only way to level the playing field.
    Not that she was likely to forget Callie Jenkins under any circumstances. She had tried.
    â€œYes, that’s it. Calliope. Calliope Jenks.”
    â€œJenkins.”
    â€œRight.”
    â€œWhat, specifically, does she want to know?”
    â€œShe wouldn’t say?”
    â€œDid you ask?”
    The girl’s downward gaze answered the question more emphatically than any statement-question she might have offered in return. Gloria leaned across the desk and tried to take the paper, but the girl was out of reach. She moved forward tentatively, as if Gloria might bite her, jumping back as soon as Gloria had the phone memo in her hand.
    â€œIt’s an out-of-state number,” Gloria said. “New York, I think, but not the city proper. Long Island, maybe Brooklyn. I can’t keep all the new ones straight.” She had, in fact, once been able to recognize every area code at a glance. She knew state capitals, too, and was always the one person at a party who could complete any set of names—the seven dwarves, the nine Supreme Court justices, the thirteen original colonies.
    â€œBut she’s in town,” the girl said, thrilled that she had gleaned an actual fact. “For a while, she said. That’s her cell. She said she plans to be in town for a while.”
    Gloria crumpled the pink sheet and tossed it in the overflowing trash can by the desk, where it bounced out.
    â€œBut she’s famous!” the girl said. “I mean, for a writer. She’s been on Oprah. ”
    â€œI don’t talk to people unless they can help me. That case ended a long time ago, and it’s better forgotten. Callie’s a private citizen now, living her life. It’s the least she deserves.”
    Was it? Gloria wondered after dismissing the girl. Did Calliope have the least she deserved or far more? What about Gloria? Had she gotten more than she deserved, less, or exactly her due? Had Gloria done the best she could for Callie, given the circumstances, or let her down?
    But Gloria didn’t like the concept of guilt any more than she liked the word guilty coming from a jury foreman, not that she had a lot of experience hearing the latter. Guilt was a waste, misplaced energy. Guilt was a legal finding, a determination made by others. Gloria didn’t have time for guilt, and she was almost certain she didn’t deserve to feel it, not in the case of Callie Jenkins. Almost.
    She called the temp agency and told them she wouldn’t be able to use the new girl past this week. “Send me someone new. More capable, but equally pretty.”
    â€œYou’re not allowed to say that,” the agency rep objected.
    â€œSue me,” Gloria said.

CHAPTER
3
    â€œWHY AREN’T YOU STAYING WITH ME?” her mother asked, and not for the first time. “That was the original plan.”
    â€œYes, when I was going to be in Baltimore a week. But for ten, twelve weeks? I would drive you crazy.” And you me.
    â€œBut a hotel room, for all that time—you won’t be able