Arthur Whitmore Demanded A False Alibi For Caleb In Columbus Parking Garage

I sat on the opposite bench, keeping my small black purse on my lap.

I did not look at him again, choosing instead to focus on the brass coat hooks mounted on the wall behind his head.

The silence between us was heavy, broken only by the distant hum of the ventilation system and the occasional squeak of rubber soles on the floor outside.

My father shifted his weight on the hard wood, his coat sliding down to reveal his hands, which were clasped tightly in his lap.

“The grand jury will begin in fifteen minutes, Mr.