Page 126 of The Right to Remain

Not a word about Theo. He waited for more.

“Let’s face it,” she said with a sigh. “The old days when we avoided all conversations about our jobs are thebadold days. If I were an engineer and you were a construction lawyer, I wouldn’t hesitate to give you my opinion on a design defect or something else within my sphere of knowledge. Why should we have to live on opposite sides of a wall because I’m an FBI agent and you’re a criminal defense lawyer?”

She seemed determined to keep Theo out of the conversation. Jacked didn’t push it.

“I agree. We shouldn’t be walled off from each other.”

She tasted her espresso. “But we both know that there will still be things we can’t tell each other, right?”

“Yeah, I get that,” said Jack.

“There will be client confidences that you can’t share with me.”

The difference between “client confidences” and keeping secrets had been at the heart of their disagreement over Theo. “Comes with being a lawyer,” said Jack.

“And there will always be aspects of an active investigation I can’t tell you.”

“Of course.”

“And after everything comes to light—maybe even as the lead story on the evening news—you won’t be mad at me for not having told you sooner. No matter how much you wished I’d told you or thought I should have told you.”

“Andie, what are you getting at?”

“I just—” She stopped herself.

“Just what?”

She was clearly struggling, searching for words. “The truth is, I just want to help you with your cases, if I can.”

It felt like an odd change of subject—that she was about to say something very different when she’d stopped herself. “You just want to help me? Really?”

“Yeah, really. Like this case you have right now.”

Definitely changing the subject. But Jack followed her lead. “Okay. I’m intrigued. How might you help me in a case like this one? Give me an example.”

“Fine. I will. Let’s start with the fact that the only witness who places your client at the crime scene is a child. I’ve interviewed dozens and dozens of children who were traumatized by violent crime. Both victims and witnesses.”

“Great. How much weight would you attach to a six-year-old boy’s identification of my client at the scene?”

“It depends on the kid.”

“Yeah, that much I figured out on my own.”

She grimaced. “Maybe that’s a bad example. But I know other things—less subjective things—you may have no clue about.”

“Try me.”

“Fingerprints.”

“What about them?”

“I’ve been following your case enough in the news to know about the dispute over fingerprints on the gun. The unidentifiable fingerprint in particular. Would you like my take on it?”

“Sure.”

“Again, this is not inside information from any particular FBI investigation. It’s just something I’ve learned over the years about the science of fingerprint analysis.”

Jack’s phone rang on the table, and the incoming number popped up on the screen.