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unseen client-to-be in the middle of the night. We went over details for nearly half an hour before I hung up and agreed to meet him on the courthouse steps at 9:00 A.M .
    I normally need eight hours of sleep to function, but I hit my pillow for barely two and woke up feeling alert, every throbbing muscle and nerve ready to spring. I dashed downstairs to have breakfast with Grant and Ashley before they left for school. Amazingly, despite my having woken Ashley, they’d missed all the late-night goings-on, and they were completely oblivious to what had happened. I took exactly one minute to decide that I’d leave it that way.
    Ashley’s outfit this morning included a purple corduroy shrunken blazer, a teeny-tiny pink T-shirt, and Citizens of Humanity jeans slung so low on her hips that jeans and tee would never have the chance to meet. She’d pulled a pink-and-purple Pucci scarf through the belt loops and snaked a sparkly pink wire bracelet around her wrist. Unlike Grant, she wasn’t much at getting top grades in school, but she definitely got them in style.
    “If you want a lift, I’m leaving now,” Grant said to her, finishing off his orange juice and putting his empty cereal bowl in the sink. “I have a midterm and I don’t want to be late.”
    Ashley nibbled thoughtfully at the edge of her all-natural breakfast bar and picked at the drizzled frosting with her pink fingernail. I willed her to go with Grant, but my extrasensory persuasion didn’t work. “Too early for me,” Ashley said. “Mom can drive me later.”
    Grant half rolled his eyes. “Mom’s dressed like she has a meeting this morning. For the extra ten minutes, you can give her a break.”
    Ashley laconically turned toward me, slowly taking in my Chanel suit and estate jewelry. “That true?”
    “Yes, but I can take you on my way. Though it’s probably more fun to go with Grant.”
    “Ugh. Going with Grant is ho-o-o-r-r-ible,” she said, drawing out the word with her mouth wide open. At least she hadn’t pierced her tongue. “But if you’re too busy for me, fine. Don’t worry.” In one smooth motion, she stood up, grabbed her backpack, and stormed out to Grant’s Jeep Cherokee, slamming the back door behind her.
    Grant unfolded his lanky six-foot frame from the chair and turned his smoky gray eyes toward me. “I do this for you, Mom, not her. You’ve got to admit she’s a bitch.”
    “More like a teenage girl who doesn’t know how to behave around her big brother’s friends,” I said. “She’ll be okay. Hey, good luck on your exam.”
    “Thanks.” He slammed the door, too, and for a moment the house reverberated with the shock of their departures.
    Upstairs, I checked on Jimmy, and when I saw he was sound asleep, I told our housekeeper, Eloise, to wake him as soon as I left so he could get on the bus for kindergarten.
    “He only likes when you wake him,” she said disapprovingly.
    True enough. But I simply couldn’t face Jimmy this morning. Too young to know how to ask for explanations, he needed them provided. How could I confront the wide eyes, the puzzled look, the morning smile warped by a trace of fear? Right now, I didn’t have any explanations for him about what he’d seen last night.
    “I have to leave,” I said feebly.
    I drove to the courthouse and at 8:45 took a position on the steps with the street in view. As Jack had described him, Chauncey Howell was a one-man dream team — glib, smart, and unbeatable in a courtroom. I pictured John Roberts crossed with Johnnie Cochran and kept a lookout for a tall, handsome defender in an Armani suit who would no doubt be emerging from a white chauffeured limousine.
    Which is why I never would have spotted him if he hadn’t tapped me on the shoulder.
    “Lacy Fields?”
    I swung around and found myself face-to-face with a short, sprightly man in a seersucker suit, standing a step above me.
    “I’m Lacy.”
    “Good. I’m Chauncey Howell.”
    He extended a hand for