She passed the photocopies to the court clerk.
While waiting for the clerk to enter them as a defense exhibit, Nora glanced at the back of the room.
The man seated below the clock held a notepad in one hand and a pen in the other as if he’d made some notes, too. His tangled hair was the same carroty shade as hers.
She was looking at her long-lost twin, separated from her at birth.
Or so Scott Barrow had joked at their last meeting.
She smiled a welcome at the Portland journalist. His reporting last winter on one of her cases had been fair, accurate, and damn helpful.
Turning back to Astrid, she asked, “Did Ryan tell you if anyone had been arrested for the assault and murder he confessed to you?”
“Yes. He said that his younger brother Matthew was convicted of the crime in 1991. Ryan
