Somehow, I'd dragged a girl, who was younger than Maddy would've been if she were alive, into my mess. I laced my hands together. "Nothing else to tell."
"Whatever you say stays between us, Manning. If . . . something happened with her-"
"Nothing happened."
"But if I know what occurred in those two hours, I can start building your defense. I need the truth."
"I told you. Nothing . . . fucking . . . happened."
"All right, then." He scooted his chair closer to the table. "We have to discuss your options before they call us up. The way things are headed, I think we'd better talk about the plea bargain the prosecutor is offering."
I lifted my head, drawing my eyebrows together. "Isn't that if you're guilty?"
"If you're likely to be convicted, then it's best to take a deal to soften the blow. Less time, for one."
"But I'm innocent."
"This is no longer about innocent versus guilty. It's a game, and you need to play."
"That's bullshit," I said. "The law's the law. I didn't break it."
"We can argue mistaken identity," he continued, "but since the victim ID'ed you in the line-up, and she claims she turned the lights on, I can't promise it'll turn out how we want."
"She picked me out?" I sat forward. "The other guys weren't as tall as me. Maybe she's remembering it wrong."
"Maybe. I'll need more time to look over all this." He scratched his jaw. "Luckily, you have no priors. The max for attempted robbery in the state of California is four-and-a-half years."
I laughed from my gut, harder than I had in a long time. "This is a huge misunderstanding."
"The D.A. is offering to reduce the charge to first-degree burglary with a low-term sentence of two years. With good behavior, you'd be out in less."
Whatever he was talking about went in one ear and out the other. I crossed my arms. "I'm not going to jail for something I didn't do."
"Then we go to trial, but we risk ending up with a longer, more severe punishment. I'd definitely need to know the details of what happened that night-all of them. And I won't be the only one snooping for information." He tapped the top of the file. "I believe you didn't break into that house. I don't believe your story."
This conversation hadn't gone anything like I'd expected. I thought I'd explain to my lawyer that this was a case of wrong place, wrong time, and be home by tonight. Now, we were talking jail time. I was in deep shit. I squeezed my hands together until my knuckles were a sickening, bloodless white. "If I tell you what happened, it stays in here? You won't try to make me say it in court? Because I'll lie if I have to."
Grimes held up his palms. "You have my word."
The room suddenly seemed half its size. I inhaled. I didn't want to see the look in Dexter's eyes when I told him, but I held his stare. I deserved to face my mistakes, and maybe that wasn't all I deserved. Fact was, I had done something bad. And bad people got locked up all the time for one thing or another. "Like I said, Lake is Tiffany's younger sister. Tiffany's my girlfriend, for lack of a better term. Lake, though . . ." I couldn't put into words what she was. As if I even knew. "She's my friend."
"Be straight with me, Manning. She's sixteen."
I flattened my hands on the table. I'd have agreed to almost anything for a cigarette at that moment. I'd never felt more deserving of one. "I had a younger sister."
"Had?" Dexter sat back. "I'm sorry."
I nodded once. "Having Lake around reminds me of how it used to be. With Maddy. You don't just stop being an older brother."
Dexter gave me a moment. "If that's true, and it's nothing more, then we might be able to use that to our advantage, show your character."
"It was true . . ." I said slowly. "At first, Lake was uncomplicated. Genuine. Trusting. She brought back small things about Madison I hadn't realized I'd forgotten." I had the urge to look anywhere but at Dexter. To bash my head against the table and wake myself up from this nightmare. I'd made these decisions, though. I couldn't just pretend I hadn't. "It's not that anymore. The more I get to know her, it's something else. She's not like the rest of us. She's good."
"Are you saying something happened?"
"I'm saying what I feel for her comes from an innocent place. I would never hurt her. If anything, I wanted . . . I want to protect her. To keep her pure."
"But you had sex with her," he concluded.
"No. God, no." I ran both hands over my face. "We went for a drive. We don't get much time alone, and somehow we'd ended up with this one night. We were only in that neighborhood with the lights out to see the stars. Never even stopped the car. On the way back, we almost hit a coyote so I pulled over. She got out and jumped in the lake. She wanted me to chase her. To give in. She wanted me, and fuck, I wanted her back, but it's no excuse. In the truck, we got a little too close. I almost went where I shouldn't. But I swear, that was all, and I ended it right before the cop spotted us. Lake hid in the back while I talked to him."
"She hid. Fuck." Dexter took it all in. "He didn't see her?"
"No."
"Drinking?"
"Not a drop, either of us."
"No sex at all? Were you inside her at any point?"
"No, fuck no. We didn't even kiss." To hear it put so clinically, my stomach churned. "I know I lost control, but I'd never take advantage of her."
"Does anyone else know? The sister?"
"Not unless Lake told her, but she promised me she wouldn't. I'm sure that's why she called. She's probably scared."
He chewed on his bottom lip. The room got so quiet, I heard his watch ticking.
What I did with Lake, it could've been worse, but what people thought held more weight than the truth. Even if we swore she'd ridden in the bed of the truck the entire time, people would think the worst. Blame me for taking advantage of a young girl. And some might blame her, too. They'd look at her differently. Her dad would see her differently. That changed a person, and I didn't want her to change, didn't want her to feel the stares, to think she'd done anything wrong, or that she'd disappointed her family.
Lake was untouchable. I'd make sure it stayed that way. "I won't bring her into this," I said. "Even if it saves me."
He looked up. "You can't go away for driving around with a minor. If you were with her and she corroborates that, then you couldn't have been at the house. Basically, she's your alibi."
If she were called to the stand to tell the court what'd really happened that night, she'd be traumatized. But I'd be fucked. I hadn't forgotten what Mr. Kaplan had said at dinner about his "friends in the legal system." If the burglary charges were dropped, no doubt he'd bring his own against me. He'd find a way. Maybe even statutory rape, and I'd serve a decade before I put Lake through that. I opened my mouth to tell Grimes as far as the courts were concerned, I had no alibi.
"But," he said, frowning, "since the cop didn't see Lake, he'd either assume you were lying or that she'd hidden. So even if the jury believed her story, they'd draw their own conclusions as to why she'd hide from a cop."
"You're agreeing with me?" I asked. "We can keep her out of this?"
"I think that's best," he said hesitantly. "I'm concerned her testimony could actually hurt us." Dexter picked up my file, straightening it on the table. "We'll have to find another way."
27
Lake
The clock on the dashboard changed. 12:53 P.M.
Tiffany had been the perfect person to get us here-driving over the speed limit was her default. But we hadn't left the house early enough, and traffic had slowed us down. I had only seven minutes to find Dexter Grimes and tell him what I knew. I wasn't sure if it'd help or hurt, but at this point Manning's lawyer was the only person who'd be able to help me.
Tiffany pulled into a parking spot, and I jumped out of the car.
"Slow down," she said, unbuckling her seatbelt. "I don't know where to go."
"Neither do I." I slammed the door shut and hurried across the courthouse's parking lot. It was smaller than I expected. During the drive, I'd built it up in my mind as some large, scary place.
"Lake!" Tiffany caught up with me at the entrance since we had to go through security. "Don't ditch me," she said. "Dad'll kill me if I come home without you."
Maybe she was making a joke. I couldn't tell. My stomach hurt, and my mom's pumps kept slipping off, already rubbing against my heels. "It's almost one."