Chapter 3Carl looked up when we marched into thecell block. He frowned when he saw Mr. Donald, and the crease betweenhis eyebrows grew deeper as he saw me. Mr. Donald was a funny-lookingman, so tall that it looked like he wasn’t sure how to handle hisbody, with blond hair and eyebrows that looked out of place on histanned skin, and an Adam’s apple that bobbed when he talked. Hedidn’t really look like he’d been in court at all. He wore a suitthat didn’t fit him quite right.
Tyrone had stopped at the door, andCarl eyed him wearily, too. He beckoned to me, walking to the farside of his cell.
“What the hell is this?” he asked.
“A lawyer,” I answered.
“What for?”
“You’ve been charged with murder,Carl. It doesn’t hurt to have more people on your side.”
“I thought you were going to prove Iw
