Ashley walked over and kissed her attorney on the cheek. “You’ve been so great, Jerry. I couldn’t have gotten through this without you.”

“Hey,” Jerry said, embarrassed by Ashley’s show of affection, “we’re a full-service law firm.”

They stood inches apart in awkward silence for a few seconds. Then Jerry took a step back.

“The hearing is at ten. I’ll pick you up at nine-thirty.”

“I’ll be ready.”

“See you then.”

“Okay.”

“Sleep tight.”

Ashley walked to the front window and watched Jerry get in the car. She stayed at the window until the taillights disappeared. Jerry had been fantastic. He was so steady. He made her feel safe. But the feeling would not last. Tomorrow, everyone would know that she was back.

The Multnomah County Courthouse, a massive concrete building that took up a city block, looked as grim and ominous as it had on the day five years ago when Ashley testified at Joshua Maxfield’s preliminary hearing. There was a short line at the metal detectors in the lobby when Ashley and Jerry Philips arrived. Her attorney was dressed in a gray suit, white shirt, and pale-yellow tie. She was wearing a black suit they had purchased in Florence before they left.

As soon as they cleared security, Jerry led Ashley up the stairs to the third floor, four marble hallways built around a central airshaft. The Honorable Paula Gish was hearing cases in a modern courtroom in the back corridor. Judge Gish was a heavyset woman in her early forties with short brown hair and thick glasses. When Ashley and Jerry walked in, Gish was thumbing through a set of pleadings while a white-haired attorney droned on about an order for attorney fees.

After Ashley and her lawyer took seats in the last row, she looked at the spectators. There weren’t many of them, so she had no trouble spotting Miles Van Meter. He was sitting in the front row next to a balding, overweight African-American who dressed as elegantly as Miles.

Ashley was surprised to see Randy Coleman seated a few rows down on the other side of the aisle. He was wearing a shabby suit very different from the stylish getup he had worn when he accosted Casey at the pool. Ashley guessed that the intervening years had not been kind to Coleman. Sitting next to Casey’s husband was a short, athletically built man with receding sleek, black hair. He was clutching an attaché case, and Ashley assumed he was Coleman’s lawyer.

An attractive young woman with a steno pad was seated in the back of the courtroom. Given the notoriety that Sleeping Beauty and the case that inspired it had achieved, Ashley was not surprised to discover a reporter covering the guardianship proceedings. She was surprised to see Larry Birch seated in the back of the room. The detective looked at Ashley for a second then looked away. She guessed that her black hair and dark glasses had fooled him.

Judge Gish ruled on the attorney fee request and the clerk called In the Matter of Casey Van Meter: Petition for Appointment of Successor Guardian and Conservator. Miles and the black man stood up and walked to counsel table.

“If it please the court, I am Monte Jefferson and I’m representing Miles Van Meter, Casey Van Meter’s brother and the son of Henry Van Meter, who was Casey’s guardian and conservator until his recent death.”

He was about to continue when Randy Coleman’s attorney led his client to the other counsel table.

“Anthony Botteri, Your Honor, appearing on behalf of my client, Randy Coleman, Casey Van Meter’s husband. Mr. Coleman is also seeking to be appointed as his wife’s guardian and conservator.”

“Your Honor should not consider Mr. Coleman’s petition,” Jefferson said calmly. “When Ms. Van Meter was attacked, she was divorcing Mr. Coleman because he beat her up and was cheating on her. The court ruled against a similar request by Mr. Coleman soon after Ms. Van Meter went into her coma. He’s a gambler and a small-time crook who’s only interested in Ms. Van Meter’s money.”

Coleman started to say something but Botteri laid a firm hand on his client’s forearm.

“It’s unfortunate that an attorney of Mr. Jefferson’s lofty stature has to stoop so low,” Botteri said. “My client is a Las Vegas businessman. Living in that city does not make him a gambler or a criminal.”

“Mr. Botteri has a point about your accusations, Mr. Jefferson,” the judge said. “Let’s try to keep this hearing civilized.”

“My apologies, Judge, but I believe the record of this case supports my assertions.”

Judge Gish addressed Coleman’s attorney. “Mr. Botteri, I am new to this case, but I did review the file and there is a ruling by the court choosing Henry Van Meter, Ms. Van Meter’s father, over your client. It does mention an assault on Ms. Van Meter and a police record.”

“From many years ago, Judge,” Botteri said. “And there are changed circumstances. Mr. Van Meter has left a very important piece of information out of his petition.”

“What is that, Mr. Botteri?”

“To put it as bluntly as I can, Your Honor, Miles Van Meter needs your ruling appointing him Casey Van Meter’s guardian so he has legal authority to kill his sister.”

“That’s outrageous,” Miles shouted.

“Are you telling the court that you don’t want to pull the plug on your sister’s life-support machines?” Botteri challenged Miles.

“Your client never loved my sister. He’s only after Casey’s money.”

“Gentlemen,” Judge Gish said as she rapped her gavel for order.

“I have support for our position,” Botteri said. He took several sheets of paper out of his attaché, handed one to Monte Jefferson, and walked to the dais.

“This is an affidavit from Dr. Stanley Linscott, Casey Van Meter’s treating physician. It recounts a conversation in which Mr. Van Meter asked about the steps he would have to go through if he wished to have my client’s wife taken off life support.”

“May I see a copy of that affidavit?” Jerry Philips asked. While Miles and Botteri were arguing, he and Ashley had passed through the bar of the court. Miles turned and saw Ashley. He stared at her for a moment. Then his jaw opened in surprise.

“Who are you?” Judge Gish asked.

“Jerry Philips, Your Honor. I represent Ashley Spencer, who also wishes to be appointed Ms. Van Meter’s guardian and conservator.”

“What is the basis of your client’s request, Mr. Philips?” the judge asked.

“Ashley Spencer is the daughter of Casey Van Meter, her only child.”

Miles gaped at Ashley, then engaged in a frantic whispered conversation with his lawyer. Shock also registered on Randy Coleman’s face.

Jerry Philips handed several documents to opposing counsel and the judge. “This is Miss Spencer’s petition asking to be appointed as her mother’s guardian. Attached to it is a signed affidavit from Henry Van Meter outlining the facts that support Ashley Spencer’s claim that she is Ms. Van Meter’s daughter. I have attached other documents supporting the claim.”

Coleman and his lawyer engaged in a heated conversation as they read through the documents Jerry had given to them. When they finished, Botteri addressed Judge Gish.

“My client tells me that his wife never had a child. This woman’s mother is Terri Spencer. She was murdered at the same time Casey Van Meter was beaten into her coma.”

“Terri Spencer did raise Ashley as her daughter,” Philips said, “but Casey Van Meter is Ashley’s biological mother.”

“Mr. Jefferson, what do you have to say?” the judge asked.

“This is the first time that my client has heard Ms. Spencer’s claim.”

“But it’s not the first time that someone in your firm has been aware of the fact that Miss Spencer is Casey Van Meter’s daughter.” Jerry handed copies of a motion for discovery to the judge, Jefferson, and Botteri. “You and Miles Van Meter are both in the Brucher firm, aren’t you?”