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began mentally ticking off the points we'd raise on cross-examination. In a case like this, you try to cast doubt on the state's contention that the evidence points conclusively to the defendant. It's almost always possible to introduce a degree of uncertainty, but it wasn't clear we'd be able to cast enough doubt to sway the jury.
    "There were also the blood spots on Wes's jeans," I said. The police apparently seized them as evidence, but the lab results weren't in the file."
    Benson gave a half-shrug. "That's in the DA's hands now. Bottom line is, he thinks there's enough evidence against Harding that he's willing to take it to trial."
    "That doesn't mean he'll get a conviction."
    A sigh. "You defense lawyers are all alike. You try to muddy the waters with a lot of 'what ifs' and far-fetched speculation. In theory, it's possible to shoot holes in any case, even if you've got a goddamn video of the crime in progress. But I'm telling you, ninety-nine percent of the time, your most obvious suspect is the guilty party."
    "In that case, maybe we should just streamline the whole
    process," I observed dryly. "You know, have the cops powwow over coffee and donuts, and once they've come up with an obvious suspect, simply cart the guy off to prison. It's bound to save time and money."
    Benson laughed. "There are times I think that's not such a bad idea." He drained his beer.
    "You want another?"
    "I could be persuaded."
    I got him a second bottle and refilled my own wineglass. "Tell me about Lisa Cornell," I said.
    "There's not a lot to tell. Twenty-two years old, worked as a waitress. Didn't seem to have many close friends, but then, between her work, her daughter and her fiance, she probably didn't have a lot of time for socializing."
    "Fiance?"
    "Philip Stockman. Owns the Big Bob Hardware chain, or rather his family does. Phil's kind of the chief honcho, though. I'm not even sure the old man is involved at all at this point."
    "Had they been engaged long?"
    Benson gave a shrug.
    "Funny that she never mentioned him." It was dawning on me that I hadn't really known Lisa at all. "What about her family?" I asked.
    "Her parents live in southern California. I've talked to them by phone but never met them. They had the bodies flown down there when we'd finished with them. Stockman was kind of p.o'd about that, as I understand it. Wanted Lisa and Amy buried here in his family's plot."
    "Her parents didn't come to Silver Creek themselves?"
    "Once, to go through her things and all. But I didn't meet them while they were here."
    "What about brothers and sisters?"
    "None."
    "Was there a husband in her past?"
    Benson nodded. "Apparently they split up not too long ago. Lisa's parents couldn't tell us much about the guy."
    "Close family."
    "Yeah, that was my take on it too. You might try Ed Cole, over in Hadley. He's handling the probate, so he's probably followed up on some of this."
    My inner antenna picked up. "Lisa had him draw up a will?"
    "No, but Cole handled her aunt's estate. When the parents asked for a recommendation I gave them his name." He looked at me, embarrassed. "I would have given them yours except that Cole knew the property and such."
    "Not a problem," I assured him. And I meant it. A little probate work goes a long way. It's tedious and deadly dull stuff.
    Benson finished off his beer, stood and stretched. "Guess I'd best be going. I appreciate the beer." He gave me an avuncular smile. "And the company."
    "Any time."
    The smile lingered. I could tell by his expression that he was seeing my mother's face in my own. "You take care, Kali. I don't like to see you involved in such nasty business."
    I gave him the assurances he wanted, then walked him to the door. After he'd left I went back to sorting through Harding's file, making notes to myself and trying to superimpose a sense of order on Sam's chaos. When I finished, I drew up a list of people I wanted to talk to, then checked my watch. Too late to do any real business, but