What Happened That Night - Page 49

“No, I don’t, but aren’t you going to invite me in?”

Realizing I was using the door as a shield, I stepped back and ushered her inside. Telling her was probably a good idea. She was going to find out eventually. Besides, maybe if I explained everything, she’d be able to give me some insight.

“Oh, Brandy.” Speaking even more sarcastically, Lia stepped over the shoes, clothes, and sporting equipment cluttering the hallway. “I love what you’ve done to the place. You really have a knack for decorating.”

I shook my head and led her back to the kitchen, which was even more of a disaster. Seriously, was I the only one who knew how to load a dishwasher around here? “Can I offer you a beverage, honey?”

Her mouth quirked up in a grin at my imitation of her mother. “Just water, please.” Slumping onto a kitchen stool, she patiently waited as I filled a glass with ice water.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.” She glanced around the messy kitchen, taking it all in. “So, you’re in the middle of something? It’s not a cleaning project, is it?”

“Ha ha. Aren’t you the jokester? Come on. Follow me.”

We walked to the guest room, which was headquarters for my investigation. Grabbing the remote from the unmade bed I’d crashed in last night, I aimed it at the TV. Immediately, the past came to life on the screen.

“Is that your mom?” Lia asked.

“It is. This is my favorite part.” In silence, we watched my mother beam with joy as she carried a birthday cake through the backyard to a table where three-year-old me sat with a handful of guests.

“And that little girl? Is that you?”

“It is.”

“Wow. You were so cute.”

“Thanks.”

We watched the video in silence for a minute, then Lia said, “I didn’t know there were any home movies of you and your mom. Where’d you get this?”

I pressed my lips together. “Dottie sent it to me. In fact, she sent all these videotapes as well as some books and articles.”

Lia’s eyes widened as she picked up one of the many VHS tapes sitting on top of the dresser. Thankfully, Troy found our old VHS player on one of the shelves in the garage.

“Have you watched them?”

“Yes, but this one’s the best.” I turned my attention back to the TV just in time to see my mother lead everyone in a round of “Happy Birthday.” Three-year-old me blew out the candles, and the crowd cheered. Then came the best part.

The screen jiggled as the camera was passed from one person to another. A second later, my father appeared at my mother’s side.

He slipped an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. As they smiled at each other, you could just tell that they were deeply, truly, and passionately in love.

Seeing them gaze down at me caused my heart to do a little flip-flop. Dottie was right. My father had loved both my mother and me with all his heart. Could someone like that really be capable of murder?

Lia stepped in front of the TV and turned it off. “Brandy, this isn’t healthy. Your father lived a double life. Every single Dateline episode starts out like this.”

Using air quotes, she spoke in a TV announcer voice. “They were the perfect couple. They had everything—a loving marriage, a healthy, beautiful baby girl, a home on a quiet street, then—”

“My family’s story is not a Dateline episode.” Frustration shot through me as I grabbed a book off the nightstand. “The more I read about wrongful conviction, the more I think my father didn’t do this.”

She shook her head. “How can you say that? Seriously. Do you really think my mom lied on the witness stand?”

“I don’t think your mom lied.”

“Then how can you think he’s innocent?”

I dug through my notes to find the article that addressed erroneous eyewitness testimony. “Here.” I shoved the article at Lia. “This man, Thomas Haynesworth, went to jail because not one but three women testified under oath that they’d been raped by him. All of them said on the witness stand that they were certain it was him. Because of their eyewitness testimony, the jury believed he was guilty. Later, DNA evidence proved Thomas was innocent by showing that another man committed the crime. And while Thomas was in jail, the real criminal went on to harm countless other women. And that’s just one of many similar cases.”

Tags: Kristin Noel Fischer Crime
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