Chapter 43

Willard finally thanked me and said, “No more questions.”

Rosalie’s public defender, who’d been strangely silent during my testimony, began to ask questions and did his damnedest to poke holes in my story. Finally, he asked the question that I’d been worried about.

“Mr. Edwards, where do you reside?”

“In Avondale.”

“Can you be more specific, Sir?”

“I can, but I won’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve already had one psycho look up my property and track me down, and I have the scars to prove it. I have no intention of setting myself up for some future attack.”

“Please answer the question, Mr. Edwards. Where do you reside?”

“I can be found in my office, or in court, some sixty hours a week. That should be sufficient for anybody.”

“Your Honor,” he said, “please direct the witness to answer the question.”

Willard jumped to his feet and objected strenuously. He and the PD argued back and forth for a few minutes. Then the judge said, “In my chambers, gentlemen. Now.”