Holidays at Crescent Cove by Shelley Noble

Grace wasn’t sure she could even form coherent words.
    â€œWhy do you care?”
    Her father shifted in the chair almost as if he were in pain. “I knew you’d see that article in the newspaper and flip out.”
    â€œI didn’t flip out. I can be as tough as the next person when it matters.”
    â€œAnd this doesn’t matter?” He gestured toward the litter of paper on the table.
    â€œEvidently it matters to Holcombe, Lacey, Danforth and Estes,” Grace said. “Who, by the way, you might want to call. They seem to be a bit worried by your absence.”
    Her father snorted. A little sound, almost perfunctory. “I bet they are. So did you get a chance to look at the case?”
    Grace glanced at the papers, avoiding her father’s astute eye. “Not really.”
    His lips curved. “You did. I can tell. That’s why you’re so angry. Not just because Harrison Cavanaugh is on trial again, not even that the firm is representing him in that trial. But because you know that we have no case, all that pile of garbage is just that—garbage—evasion, obstruction, manipulation of the facts, and a game plan to destroy witness credibility.”
    The admission hit Grace right in the solar plexus. What was he doing? How could he use this confession to his benefit? She would not play into his hands, but she didn’t recognize this tactic, and it made her wary.
    â€œWhy are you telling me all this?”
    Her father shrugged, a cast-off gesture. “Thought maybe you could help.”
    â€œWhat? Are you crazy? Help you get Sonny-boy off? Not if you were holding a gun to my head.”
    Her father looked at her, and she saw a stranger.
    Carefully controlling her voice, she said, “Nothing has changed in the last four years. No argument you can make will change my mind. I may have a tiny little nothing practice, but I wouldn’t give it up for all the high profile cases in the world, if it meant playing favorites with the law.
    â€œYou wasted your time coming here. You might as well get in your car and go back to Hartford. At least mother will be glad to see you.”
    â€œHelp me find the Achilles’ heel of this case.”
    â€œAre you listening? I won’t help. I have half a mind to report your actions to the bar association.” She snapped her carryall from the floor and straightened up to see her father grinning back at her.
    Grace took a step back. She didn’t know this look. Didn’t trust it. Was afraid it was the look of a man pushed against a wall.
    â€œI have a few ideas. I need you to vet them. Grace, I want you to help me unravel this defense.”
    Grace blinked. For several long minutes she said nothing. Couldn’t think. Was sure she was hearing wrong.
    â€œWh-Why?”
    Her father templed his fingers, brought them to his lips, closed his eyes. “We got the call almost immediately after the accident.” He coughed a bitter laugh. “Hell, call it what is was, hit and run, Harrison Cavanaugh ran over a young pregnant woman and left the scene. He must have gone straight to his father, because we were notified before he’d even been arraigned.”
    Her father took a shuddering breath. “It would be one thing if Cavanaugh denied it. I might have been able to rationalize repping him again. I wanted to. His father and I go way back. He called me personally, begged me to help with his defense, this once, and he’d guarantee he’d never let the boy get in trouble again.. I told him I’d look into it. He didn’t even try to deny that Harrison was the driver. It was pretty obvious he knew that he was.
    â€œBut when the police arrived, Harrison claimed someone had stolen his car.”
    â€œThe report named several witnesses, two of whom have subsequently backed down,” Grace said. “Would you know anything about that?”
    Her father sighed. “There were several