Chapter 21: The Courthouse Steps

"I peeled the tape back," Courtney said again, and this time she was crying. "Judith told me where it was. I knew a knock would tear it."

"I have it," I said.

Mom's phone was still recording on the table.

"Courtney," Elliot said, from the delivery room, very quietly. "I'm going to call the detective now."

"Elliot, no. I just had your baby."

"I know."

"You can't."

"I can," he said. "I'm standing here, and I'm doing it."

I heard her start to scream.

Then the call ended, and the kitchen was quiet except for the refrigerator.

Mom turned off her phone.

"That's the last one," she said. "That's the whole file."

On Thursday I stood on the courthouse steps.

It was a gray, cold morning, and the stone under my shoes was wet.

I had left my cane in the car.

Dale watched me do it, and said nothing, because I had told him not to.

Thirty reporters waited behind the metal barrier.

Some of them had been outside the steakhouse a week ago, shouting questions at a girl in a wheelchair.

Now they were shouting different ones.

"Ms. Finucane! Ms. Finucane, how does it feel?"

I looked down the steps, and a black van pulled up to the curb.

The back door opened.

Courtney came out in handcuffs.

She wore a gray sweatshirt and no makeup, and her braid hung limp over one shoulder.

Two deputies held her by the arms.

Her mother walked beside them with her hands in her coat pockets.

She did not take her daughter's elbow.

She did not look away either.

The reporters surged against the barrier, and the cameras flashed.

"Courtney!" someone shouted. "Did you fake the attack?"

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