Page 93 of The Right to Remain

“Depend on what?”

“If you came to me as a client with a legal problem, then it would be the same as any other client. I couldn’t tell anyone, not even Andie.”

“But otherwise?”

“Otherwise,” he said, struggling. “Come on, Theo. You can’t ask me to swear on my life to keep secrets from my wife. I mean, you didn’t even tell me you were going into the gin business until you literally unveiled it for Cy and me.”

Theo looked away, out the window. “Got it.”

The silence made Jack uncomfortable. “Got it? What does that mean? Are you pissed at me?”

“No, I ain’t pissed,” he said in an even tone. “It means I got it.”

A sedan pulled into the driveway behind them. Julianna Weller and a junior prosecutor climbed out and started toward the Pollards’ front door.

“Let’s do this,” said Jack.

They climbed out of the car and started up the driveway. “These pictures don’t have to be perfect,” said Jack. “The trial exhibits will come from the forensic team photos of the crime scene. I just need a few angles to fill in the holes for my own purposes.”

“Got it,” said Theo. “And that don’t mean I’m pissed.”

Jack smiled. Whatever their conversation in the car had been about, Theo seemed to be over it.

They joined the prosecutors on the front porch. Weller thanked them for being on time and rang the doorbell. The sound of a big dog’s bark emerged from somewhere inside, and Jack recalled the courtroom testimony about a sheepdog named Boo. The door opened, and Helena was struggling to control her dog on a leash.

“He’s friendly,” she said. “Come on in.”

“Wait a second,” said Weller, addressing Jack. “Let’s keep foot traffic to a minimum. Who’s the big guy?”

“I believe his name is Boo,” said Jack.

“I meanthim,” she said, indicating Theo.

“He’s my photographer.”

“Your photographer? Really?”

“Queso,” said Theo, and he snapped a cheesy selfie.

The dog sniffed Jack’s pant leg, which Jack attributed to the irresistible scent of eau de Max. Helena apologized, but clearly there was something more important on her mind.

“Before we get started, could I have a word with Mr. Swyteck in private?”

The prosecutor was less than enthusiastic. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

Helena showed no interest in debating the matter, and Boo seemed eager to go outside. “Could you walk with me, Mr. Swyteck?”

Jack followed her down the steps and across the front lawn to a fenced-in side yard. Helena opened the gate, unleashed Boo, and let him run free on the other side of the chain-link fence. It reminded Jack of Max when he was young, the way Boo turned a simple patch of grass into such a happy place.

“How can I help you?” asked Jack.

Her arms were folded tightly, which did not convey a warm vibe. “Help me? You could start by knocking off the insinuation that I killed my husband.”

Jack didn’t want a confrontation. “Maybe Julianna Weller was right. This conversation might not be such a great idea.”

Boo started barking. He was digging with the intensity of a hungry badger.

“Boo!” Helena shouted.