1 April 4, 2008 ‘Hey, stranger,’ Duane Swisher said, standing in the doorway of her office. ‘How you doing?’ Erin McCabe looked up; brushed her long, copper-colored hair back from her face; and smiled. She and Duane had been partners in the law firm of McCabe & Swisher for the last five years, specializing in representing defendants in criminal cases. ‘Oh, living the dream – one nightmare at a time,’ she responded, gesturing to the piles of papers stacked haphazardly on her desk among the empty Dunkin’ Donuts cups. ‘So has Judge Fowler incorporated casual Friday into his trial calendar?’ he asked jokingly. She smiled at his reference to the fact that she was wearing jeans and a Dixie Chicks T-shirt. ‘No. No trial today. Judge Fowler schedules his sentencing hearings for every other

