preliminary hearing was a joke. It’s so unfair. I don’t understand how Dad can let them put her through this.”
“He was shot, right? Presumably that was upsetting.”
“The bullet only grazed his rear end. He’s fine. He should have told the police it was an accident.”
“Was it?”
“It must have been.”
“But your dad says it wasn’t. And your mom?”
“She can’t remember.”
How convenient, Lindsay thought. She glanced at Nathan, who remained quiet. He seemed content for her to handle the questions for now. She turned back to Celia. “You’re sure she doesn’t remember?”
“Are you suggesting my mother is lying?” Affronted, Celia turned to Nathan, who covered her hand supportively.
Lindsay found this annoying. It wasn’t their job to counsel distraught clients. They were investigators, for God’s sake.
“I’m not suggesting anything,” Lindsay replied levelly. “Just asking if you’re sure.”
“My mother can’t remember. It isn’t an act—she never lies. She’s been released on bail with the condition that she receive counseling. I think the judge is hoping that her memory will eventually return. But…”
“Yes?” Nathan encouraged her.
“I don’t think it will. And that worries me because she’s so busy blaming herself for what happened, she isn’t even trying to protect herself.”
“You’re not worried she might shoot your father again now that she’s out on bail?” Lindsay asked.
“No! I’m telling you it was all an accident. She never intended to hurt him.”
“Why doesn’t your father believe that?”
“I don’t know.” Celia turned to Nathan. “Why is she being so mean?”
Lindsay glanced at Nathan, reacting to his quickly truncated smile with a roll of her eyes. If he wanted to coddle this woman, that was his business. She had little patience for emotionally needy clients.
“Let’s start at the beginning,” Nathan suggested, gently easing his hand away from Celia’s. “The morning of August 18. It was shortly after breakfast. Your parents were alone at their lodge in the Catskills when your father told your mom he wanted a divorce. I know it’s painful, Celia, but can you describe what happened next?”
“I only know what Dad has told us. They argued and, according to him, Mom picked up the shotgun he uses for hunting pheasants and started threatening him.”
“The gun was just sitting there?” Lindsay asked.
“Apparently Dad had been planning a hunting expedition for later that day and he’d had his gun out of the cabinet where it was usually locked.”
“Isn’t early morning the best time for hunting pheasants?” Lindsay asked.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Celia asked, turning again to Nathan for support.
He just patted her hand. “She’s being thorough, Celia. That’s all.”
Lindsay ignored the sidebars. “Was the gun loaded?”
“Obviously, since my father was shot.”
“Did your mother load it, or was it loaded when she picked it up?” Lindsay asked more specifically.
“It was loaded. I think. Anyway, it went off—accidentally. Mom sort of lost consciousness for a while and when she came to, Dad asked her to phone for help because he’d been shot. I guess there was quite a bit of blood, even though his injury was minor.”
“You don’t seem very upset about the fact that your father was shot.”
“Well, I’m sorry it happened. But Dad wasn’t the one who ended up getting arrested and being charged with a crime he didn’t commit.”
Lindsay could see that Celia was becoming overwrought again. She sighed and gave the woman a moment to collect herself. Celia drank some coffee and whispered something to Nathan. He said something back, his tone low and reassuring.
Where did he get the patience?
But then, Celia was an awfully pretty girl.
Finally Lindsay could wait no longer. “If your mother accepts your father’s version of that day’s events, why can’t you?”
“I know my mother. Nathan’s met her, too. Can you imagine Audrey shooting anyone?” she asked him.
“Not easily,” he admitted. “But even good people make mistakes.”
“Mistakes, yes, but shooting your husband?”
“These weren’t normal circumstances,” Lindsay reminded her. “People change when they’re under duress. How long were your parents married?”
“Twenty-five years.”
“That’s a lot of time to have invested in a relationship. When your father told her he wanted a divorce she must have been devastated. Trust me, divorce never brings out the best in people.”
“But that’s something else I can’t understand. My parents were happy together. Really, they were.”
“Children are often the last to know about these things,” Nathan pointed out gently.
“Maybe. I could probably accept that I simply wasn’t aware of the problems in their relationship. But I will never be able to accept that my mother would deliberately shoot my father. She was scared of his guns. Wouldn’t even touch them.”
“Why isn’t your mother here with you?” Lindsay wondered.
“She didn’t want me to hire an investigator,” Celia said. “But her lawyer thinks it’s a good idea. And since I knew Nathan…”
“Right,” Lindsay said. She’d already decided to take on this case, but she wanted to make sure the parameters were wide-open. “We will need to question both of your parents. Do you think they’ll cooperate with us?”
“I’ll make sure they do.”
“Good. I think that wraps things up nicely,” she said crisply.
Nathan offered to walk Celia to her car, and once they’d left, Lindsay reflected on the meeting. Celia seemed like a sweet, somewhat naive person, someone whose life had been uncomplicated until events completely beyond her control had shattered everything from the foundation up.
Celia may have found her unsympathetic during the meeting, but the truth was Lindsay had related with her more than the other woman could have ever guessed.
But Celia
