Chapter 1
One
That first late summer/autumn…
Dan Torrington had made the ninety-minute drive from Malibu to Riverside every Sunday morning for years, since the week after his only brother was interred in the military cemetery there after being killed in Afghanistan.
Dan drove the Porsche Dylan had loved so much, which now belonged to him.
He’d trade the sweet car and everything he had, every accomplishment and accolade, for one more day with his beloved brother.
They’d never fought the way brothers often did.
Rather, they’d been the best of friends every minute of the twenty-seven years they’d had together.
Losing Dylan, almost ten years ago now, had been the worst thing to ever happen to Dan, who’d led a relatively charmed life.
Well, except for that time he’d caught his fiancée sleeping with his best man the day before his wedding.
As much as that had hurt at the time, it was nothing compared to losing Dylan.
The ex-friend he’d chosen to be his best man had just been a stand-in anyway for the man he’d really wanted by his side that day.
If he couldn’t have Dylan, he didn’t want anyone.
His now ex-fiancée had pushed him to ask someone and had advocated for the guy she eventually cheated with.
He’d been enraged, hurt and embarrassed to have to cancel the wedding the day before, but that hurt couldn’t compare to losing Dylan.
He’d known real loss, and after the initial shock of catching them together had worn off, losing those two had barely registered in the grand scheme of things.
These days, he rarely gave either of them a thought.
He hoped they were perfectly miserable together and that it was worth what they’d done to him—and his parents, who’d been shocked by the turn of events.
He walked up to the granite monument that bore his brother’s name.
After all this time, you’d think it wouldn’t be surreal anymore to see Captain Dylan Torrington, USA, summarized on a hunk of stone with the years of his too-short life prominently featured along with the words BELOVED SON and brOTHER.
You’d be wrong. It was still the most surreal thing that Dylan was gone, that he didn’t live long enough to become a beloved uncle and that Dan was left to carry on without the most important person in his life.
The intense ache of the loss had dulled somewhat over the years, but it never truly went away.
Dan took a seat at the base of the stone and leaned back against it to drink the coffee he bought at the same local shop every week.
They knew him there, even if they didn’t know why he came in every Sunday morning.
His parents and sisters didn’t know about his weekly visits.
This time belonged to him and Dylan and no one else.
“Another week of nonstop madness in the life of Dan Torrington, Esquire.”
Dylan had loved to call him Esquire. His brother had bestowed the nickname the day Dan entered law school at Yale and had called him that for the rest of his life.
After Dylan died, Dan only referred to himself with that title when talking to Dylan.
He would answer to Counselor. But Esquire?
No. Never. He went so far as to correct anyone who called him that.
“We’re getting close to freeing another prisoner,” Dan told his brother. “It’s impossible to believe the insanity that puts an innocent person on death row for twenty-two years. I hope you’re somehow able to know what we’re doing. It feels good to do important work.”
He’d made a fortune in corporate law before he left the firm where he’d made a name for himself to found his innocence project. Losing Dylan had Dan wanting to find meaning in his life. His brother’s death had made him realize that life was short, and time needed to be used wisely.
Dan loved the work, but he was ready for a break.
He’d been thinking about writing a memoir about some of the more remarkable cases he’d worked on since he’d started the project seven years ago now and had begun to shop the idea to a couple of publishers.
It was nice to know there was interest, but they were looking for details he didn’t have yet.
His phone buzzed with a text from his best friend, Grant McCarthy.
Dan had texted him earlier to see how Grant and his family were making out as Tropical Storm Hailey pounded their tiny Gansett Island, off the southern coast of Rhode Island.
We’re holding up, but this storm is relentless.
No ferries for days means we’re getting low on food, water, cash, beer.
That last one is the most worrisome, of course.
My brother’s wife had a baby named Hailey during the storm when the island’s only doctor was on the mainland.
Fortunately, another doctor we know was home visiting, and he delivered baby Hailey.
Did I mention that doc was once engaged to my sister Janey and cheated on her?
Yep, only on Gansett. In other news, I might’ve met someone who isn’t Abby…
Dan sat up straighter when he read that last part.
Grant had been stuck on Abby Callahan for much of a decade.
When she’d left him in LA to go home to Gansett, Dan had wondered if Grant would survive losing her.
He’d gone home, determined to win back Abby, so it was intriguing to hear there was someone else in the mix.
Do tell! Someone who isn’t Abby?!? Did I read that right? Congrats on the new niece, and I’m glad to hear you’re all safe. Keep me posted.
Dan had heard so much about Grant’s family that he felt like he knew them all personally.
He’d like to meet them someday, if he could break free from the relentless demands of his work.
New cases were sent to them every day from family members desperate for help in getting their loved ones out of jail.
Sometimes their loved ones were guilty.
Too often, however, a case could be made that they were innocent. The plights of those prisoners kept Dan awake at night, especially because they couldn’t possibly take on every case that came their way. That was why he felt guilty about wanting a break from the relentless pace of his work.
Early days, Grant responded. But I’m definitely intrigued.
Best news I’ve heard in ages. It’s long past time to move on. Don’t fuck it up by mooning after Abby. That ship has sailed.
I’ll try not to. You’d like this one. She doesn’t put up with my bullshit.
MARRY HER!
Shut your face. I ain’t marrying anyone.
What’s her name?
I’m not telling you that.
Oh, come on. Don’t be a dick. You know you want to tell me.
I don’t want to tell you.
Be that way.
Dan laughed at the ridiculous exchange. They’d met when Grant was researching the death penalty for Song of Solomon, the Oscar-winning screenplay Grant had written.
Dan had also handled the contracts for that film as one of his last duties before he left the firm to start his innocence project.
He’d gotten a new best friend out of the deal.
He was glad to hear something new was brewing for his buddy. The relationship with Abby had been over for a while. Everyone but Grant seemed to have realized that some time ago.
Dan had tried to talk him out of going home for one last try at salvaging things with her, but Grant had been undeterred.
Maybe that choice would lead to a whole new direction for him.
That’d be a very good thing after he’d watched Grant mope around for months after Abby had pulled the plug on her time in LA—and her decade-long relationship with Grant.
“Sorry to not give you my full attention today, Dyl. Grant needed me for a minute there. I’ve told you about him.
You would’ve liked him. He’s a good dude.
I’m jealous that he has three brothers. You had to go and leave me with just the sisters, who drive me crazy asking if I’m eating and dating and taking care of myself.
They mean well, and I know they worry, but I’m doing okay.
I miss you every day, and I wish more than anything you were still here.
I’d even give you back the Porsche if you suddenly showed up to tell us the last ten years have been a bad dream.
I still hope for that, and I always will. ”
Dan turned his face up into the warm sunshine, as relaxed as he ever was these days. The relentless demands of his work kept him from dwelling on his grief during the week. On Sundays, he allowed himself to wallow in the loss, to feel the ache, to wish things were different.
He even dozed for a while, which almost never happened during the day.
When he opened his eyes, he realized quite a bit of time had gone by while he rested.
“I guess I should head home and get a jump on Monday.” He often spent most of the weekend catching up on the things he hadn’t gotten done the week before.
“I’ll see you next week, bro. I miss you and love you. ”
Dan rested his hand on the top of the granite marker for a long moment before he walked away, leaving a big piece of his heart with his brother, where it would always be.
A few days later, Dan returned to the office after a court appearance to receive a message that Grant had called.
“He used the word urgent,” Dan’s assistant, Christa, told him.
“I’ll call him now. Thanks.” He went into his office, dropped his briefcase on the desk and used his personal cell to return Grant’s call.
“Counselor. Thanks for calling me back.”
“No problem. Don’t tell me you finally got yourself arrested.”
Grant laughed. “Not yet. Listen, I have this friend…”
“Would this be the friend you mentioned the other day?”
“Possibly.”
“Curiouser and curiouser. What about her?”
“She’s been trying to get her stepfather out of prison for fourteen years.”
Dan sat in his leather desk chair and leaned his head back. “What’d he do?”
“Nothing. He saved her from an abusive mother and got charged with kidnapping and assault of a minor.”