Page 66 of The Right to Remain

Francine arched an eyebrow. “You said it. Not me.”

Andie took a breath. It was upsetting enough to hear that Theo might be getting himself into trouble. And even more so that it was trouble so big that Francine felt like it was necessary to warn her that Jack could be caught in the blowback. It sent a shudder down her spine.

“Appreciate the tip,” said Andie.

“No problem, girlfriend. I’m not telling you what to do. You can ignore it, if you want, and just let the chips fall where they may. Your decision.”

“Say no more,” said Andie. “I already know what I’m going to do.”

“Yeah, what?”

Andie rose. “I’m going to order a double hot chocolate chip Frappuccino with extra whipped cream. To go.”

“You earned it,” said Francine.

Andie didn’t mention who it was for.

They said a warm goodbye. Andie put on her coat, stopped at the counter on her way out, and orderedtwoFrappuccinos.

Chapter 24

Helena appeared nervous to Jack. She sat a little too erect in the witness chair, her hands resting on her lap, her fingers not as much interlaced as they were clenched into a tight ball. She looked first at the prosecutor and then at the judge, not even a glance in the direction of the defense table, though Jack wasn’t sure if she was avoiding eye contact with him, his client, or both.

“Good morning, Ms. Pollard,” the prosecutor began.

Helena managed a clipped “Morning,” and even the ensuing introductory questions seemed to make her tense. As the examination progressed, Jack noticed that she wasn’t really looking at the prosecutor when she answered. Helena was looking past her, and Jack followed her gaze all the way into the gallery, until it landed on Helena’s lawyer, Patricia Dubrow, in the third row of public seating. Having her lawyer in the courtroom seemed to calm her, eventually. By the time she was asked to describe her marriage to Owen, Helena was able to keep her composure—which Jack took as a sign that both the prosecutor and her own lawyer had prepared her well for the testimony that mattered.

“Ms. Pollard, please tell the court when you first met the defendant, Elliott Stafford.”

“Well, I—” she started to say, then stopped, as if she needed to think about what the prosecutor was really asking. “I believe the answer to your question is that Owen and I first met the defendant when he was a teenage girl named Elle Carpenter.”

“Elle Carpenter was the biological mother of your adopted son, Austen, correct?”

“That’s correct.”

“Was your adoption a private adoption, or did you use an adoption agency?”

“It was private. Owen and I dealt directly with Elle’s mother.”

“Did you ever see Elle Carpenter again after the adoption?”

“No.”

“That’s because this adoption was a closed adoption, correct?”

“Yes, it was closed.”

“Ms. Pollard, what is your understanding of the difference between an open and closed adoption?”

“The court knows the difference,” Judge Garrison said, and then he looked at Jack. “Mr. Swyteck, in the interest of moving things along, will the defense stipulate that in closed adoption the biological mother has no right to visit, communicate with, or contact the child, and that such rights are negotiable in an open adoption?”

“So stipulated.”

“Thank you,” said the judge. “Ms. Weller, fair warning to the prosecution: I’m not going to keep the defendant locked up in pretrial detention based on testimony connecting Elle Carpenter to an adoption six years ago. Please get to the evidence connectingthisdefendant, Elliott Stafford, to the untimely death of Owen Pollard.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” said the prosecutor. “Ms. Pollard, you said earlier that you never saw Elle Carpenter after the adoption. When did you first meet Elliott Stafford?”

“It was several months ago. I teach ballet at the conservatory. Austen is also a student there. Elliott started volunteering his services as a bookkeeper. One day he introduced himself to me. He told me he worked for Owen’s company, though he spent most of his time in the finance department, which was run by Mr. Vandermeer.”