“Mr. Hollis, did you report this visit to your client?”
“Yes, ma’am. Same day.”
“What did Mr. Foster say?”
Hollis shifted.
“He said, and I’m quoting from my notes, ‘What the hell is she doing there? I told her to stay away from this.'”
“‘I told her.'”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Across the aisle, Nicole turned and looked at her brother-in-law for the first time that morning.
Brian did not look back.
Then Anita called Dorothy.
Seventy-four years old, in the navy dress, with her white hair pinned and her purse on her lap.
She walked to the stand like she was going to church.
“Mrs. Lang, how do you know the defendant?”
“I hired her. From a notice at the Worthington market. To cook and keep house.”
“Did you know about her conviction?”
“She told me before she accepted. I asked if she could work. She could.”
“Why did you refer her to Mr. Ortiz?”
