Read Online Her Mother's Shadow by Diane Chamberlain - Free Book Online Page A

people who decide whether this guy…what’s his name again?”
    â€œZachary Pointer.”
    â€œWhether he should be paroled or not. They’ll take into account his previous criminal record and his behavior in prison. Do you know anything about that?”
    Lacey glanced over at the man and woman, who were standing in front of a glass panel, talking about its colors.
    â€œI don’t think he had a criminal record,” she said, looking as though that fact disappointed her. “And I have no idea what he’s been like in prison.”
    â€œWell, here’s where you have some input,” he said. “The commission has to take into account any information they get from you or from other people who knew your mother and were impacted by her death. You’ll need to write what they call a victim impact statement. How his crime has impacted your life. Everyone in your family can submit one. You’re in the best position to write one, though, since you were impacted both by the loss of your mother and by witnessing her…what happened.”
    She nodded slowly, her gaze somewhere in space as she thought over what he’d said. “Okay,” she said. “I can do that.”
    The man and woman headed for the door, and the woman turned to Lacey, waving with a smile. “We’ll be back later,” she said. “I want to get my sister to see that stained glass rooster.”
    â€œOkay,” Lacey said. “See you then.”
    Rick waited for Lacey’s attention to return to him. “You—or your attorney, at least—will want to look back at any statements the guy made after the arrest and during the trial,” he continued. “Look for a lack of remorse, or that he’s still protesting his innocence. Anything that shows he needs continued incarceration.”
    â€œAll right,” Lacey said.
    He hesitated, a little nervous about the next item on his agenda. “On another note, though,” he said, “I have something for you.” He handed the book to her. She looked at the title. Forgiveness. Then she raised her eyes to him, her expression quizzical.
    â€œAre you very religious or something?” she asked.
    He smiled. “Nope. Just a run-of-the-mill, hardly-ever-goes-to-church Presbyterian. But I’ve just…Well, I’ve worked hard at figuring out my priorities,” he said. “You know, what’s most important in life. What’s worth my effort and energy and time and—”
    â€œHe killed my mother, Rick,” she said, a flash of fire in her deep blue eyes.
    He nodded. “I understand. Or rather, I guess I don’t understand what that must feel like. I’m sorry.”
    The jingling sound of glass against glass caught their attention, and Rick turned to see a woman push the studio door open with such force that the small, stained glass sun-catchers hanging on it were in danger of breaking. The woman was very tanned, her white-blond hair pinned up at the back of her head. She wore a navy blue suit with a small gold pin on the lapel, and she was not a customer, that much was clear. Her eyes were red and smudged with mascara.
    â€œNola!” Lacey was instantly on her feet, rushing toward the woman. “What’s wrong?”
    â€œOh, Lacey, I’m beside myself!” The woman stood in the middle of the floor, looking as though she might burst into tears. Her hands were pressed to her cheeks and the heavy gold bracelets on her wrists clanged together. Her fingers sparkled with rings.
    â€œI can see that.” Lacey took her arm and drew her toward Tom Nestor’s worktable. “Here, sit in Tom’s chair. Are Jessica and Mackenzie all right?”
    â€œI think so,” the woman said. “I mean, I think they’ll be all right. But I’m on my way to Arizona and wanted to stop in to let you know what was going on before I left.” She looked at Lacey, her