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“Ooo, look. Those must be the parents.” Sandra Gilletti sounded excited, like someone spotting at a celebrity wedding.
Toni spun around. She felt like she’d been stung. She’d seen pictures of the Handemeyers before, on the TV news, but nothing had prepared her for the reality. Ruth Handemeyer, Nicholas’s mother, looked so like her son it was agonizing. She had the same butterscotch-blond coloring, the same saucerlike brown eyes. Except that where Nicholas’s eyes had been playful and dancing, his mother’s were glazed and deadened with grief. Toni couldn’t take her eyes off Ruth Handemeyer as she made her dignified way to her seat, escorted by her husband and daughter.
Senator Handemeyer was older than his wife, in his early fifties, with close-cropped gray hair and a face that looked as if it had been chiseled out of granite. Rage blazed out of his dark blue eyes, but it was a controlled rage, a determined rage, the rage of a powerful, intelligent man. Not for Senator Handemeyer the wild, impotent roaring of the wounded tiger. This was a man hell-bent on vengeance, a man who had set out methodically to bring those responsible for his son’s death to justice. Surveying the courtroom as if he owned it, Senator Handemeyer fixed his gaze briefly on Leslie Lose, Billy’s lawyer. Ruffled, the attorney looked away. Next, to Toni’s horror, the senator caught her eye. She stared back at him like a statue, her stomach liquefied with fear.
Can he see the guilt in my eyes?
Can he guess the truth?
But when Billy Hamlin walked into the dock, all the senator’s attention focused on him in a wave of such pure hatred, there was no room for anything, or anyone, else.
If Billy was unnerved by the senator’s withering gaze, he didn’t show it. Instead, scouring the room for Toni’s face, he saw her and smiled broadly. It was the same boyish, open smile Toni remembered from camp. She smiled back, buoyed by his obvious confidence.
This is a court of law, Toni reassured herself. Senator Handemeyer has a right to his grief, but Billy didn’t murder anyone. The jury will see that.
Leslie Lose fiddled nervously with his gold cuff links. His client should not be smiling at the pretty prosecution witness like a lovesick puppy. Come to think of it, his client should not be smiling at all. A little boy had drowned. Guilty or not, Billy Hamlin ought to look as if he took that seriously.
Out of the corner of his eye, Leslie Lose saw Senator Handemeyer’s broad shoulders tighten. His entire body was coiled like a spring, ready to wreak destruction on Billy Hamlin and, presumably, anyone who dared to help him.
For the first time since he’d taken the case, Leslie Lose began to wonder if he was out of his depth.
“All rise.”
The proceedings got under way in what seemed to Toni like record speed. No sooner had both sides made their opening arguments than she found herself on the stand, being sworn in.
“Miss Gilletti, you were on the beach with the defendant on the afternoon in question. Did William Hamlin seem distracted to you?”
“I . . . I don’t know. I don’t remember.”
She was so nervous, her teeth began to chatter. The entire room was looking at her. Terrified of accidentally making eye contact with Senator Handemeyer, or with Billy, she stared fixedly at the floor.
“You don’t remember?”
Of course I remember. I remember everything. The rowing boat, Charles nearly killing those boys, Billy diving for pearls, disappearing under the water. I remember everything except Nicholas, because I wasn’t watching. It was me! I let him die!
“No.”
“Other witnesses have confirmed that William Hamlin was repeatedly diving for oysters that afternoon. That he was showing off for your benefit. Do you remember that?”
Toni looked down at her clasped hands. “I remember him diving. Yes.”
“Despite being in sole charge of a group of young boys at the time?”
Toni mumbled something incoherent.
“Speak up, please, Miss Gilletti. You had originally been charged with taking the boys swimming that day. But you arranged to swap shifts with the defendant. Is that correct?”
No! Billy wasn’t in charge. I was. It was my fault.
“Yes. That’s correct.”
“May I ask why?”
Toni looked up, panicked. Without thinking, she looked to Billy, as if asking for his help. What should I say?
“I’m sorry.” She flushed red. “Why what?”
“Why did you agree to swap shifts, Miss Gilletti?”
