After that, Terrell had questioned Jennifer about this oversight and Jennifer had said she must have simply overlooked it, blocked it somehow. Hardy didn't remember this fact from any of the news reports, and it wasn't a good one to find now. He closed the file.

"Hardy."

He squinted up into the sun and stood up. A tall man, slightly older than Hardy himself, hovered over him in a light charcoal suit, his hand extended.

Hardy stood and took the hand.

"Just saw you sitting here, Diz. Rumor has it you're defending Jennifer Witt."

"You know rumors, Dean. They never quite get it right." He explained his stand-in status, helping out his landlord, the famous defense attorney David Freeman.

Dean Powell showed a mouthful of teeth. He had a glorious mane of white hair, ruddy skin and an impressive posture. Hardy hadn't wanted to go see Powell earlier and didn't feel particularly prepared to chat with him now. But here he was, smiling and talking.

"Art wanted to warn me early that you had the case. So I'd take it more seriously." Some more teeth to flavor the compliment. "But it's Freeman, huh?" His face clouded briefly. Powell might be nice Hardy and stroke him about what a good job he'd do, but the mention of Freeman moved things up a big notch. Freeman didn't lose too often.

Powell motioned downward. "That her file?"

Hardy patted it. "It seems a little thin on motive for Matt's death – the boy's. I mentioned it to Art and he didn't seem to want to talk about it."

Powell's grin faded. "I'll talk to you about it. The motive was the husband's money. The boy got in the way. Period."