their home, but she was convicted of the murder in 2006.
“I’d seen that stuff on my desk a couple of weeks ago but didn’t ask about it,” Jeff said. “Kim’s always printing out a ton of stuff. Girl doesn’t know how to bookmark. She’s not very high-tech. Anyway, it looks like she was really interested in that one case. Where the mom shot the dad. I found Zach’s book under all this stuff. She’d marked a bunch of pages in the section about Dustin Halliday. Even highlighted some stuff.”
“Dustin Halliday?”
“One of Susan and Todd Halliday’s two kids. He was in juvenile detention a few years after his father was killed, and he was one of the kids Zach put in his book. In the book the kid keeps saying the prosecution got it wrong—that his mother wasn’t guilty.”
“Zach did mention that she was interested in him.” I flipped through the papers again. “Donald Wallace prosecuted that case.”
“She never even mentioned Wallace to me,” Jeff murmured, picking up Sylvestress. “Not when I was watching all my news shows. Not ever.”
Sylvie pawed at Jeff’s chest and leaped out of his arms.
“Sylvestress hates drunks,” Jeff told me.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” I protested weakly.
“I would,” Jeff said.
I couldn’t decide if he was joking, so I didn’t reply.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“No,” he answered. “I didn’t come here for food. Just to show you this stuff—and to apologize.”
“No need to,” I said, feeling awkward—like I didn’t know him all of a sudden. Like he was a stumbling waiter to whom I needed to be overly polite and reassuring.
I knew how to deal with the Jeff of Our Many Mutual Disappointments. But Jeff with a potential tragedy in his life—the tragedy that Kim seemed to be turning into—that person I wasn’t sure how to speak to.
“I think I’m gonna go home now,” he said. “Watch some news.”
I started to say, You don’t have to, but stopped myself. He knew he didn’t have to.
Boober watched him pensively from the living-room window as he got into his car. Unable to pretend I was motivated enough to work on Marge, I read through the printouts about the Halliday murder.
It felt, at first glance, more straightforward than the Andrew Abbott case. At least Satan wasn’t involved. Susan Halliday was convicted of killing her husband with his own gun. Sadly, her two boys—twelve and fourteen then—were at home at the time of the shooting. Dustin—the younger of the two sons—woke up when the gun went off, but his older brother, Trenton, slept through it and awoke right before the police arrived. Susan Halliday claimed that two intruders had come into the house, her husband had confronted them with his handgun, there was a struggle, and he was shot in the neck.
It obviously wasn’t a very believable story. There were no fingerprints on the gun, but Trenton Halliday claimed that he saw his mother wiping down the gun as the family waited for an ambulance to arrive. Additionally, for almost a year Susan Halliday had been sleeping with a coworker of hers at the Department of Motor Vehicles. Donald Wallace and his team made a great deal out of that. Several character witnesses spoke of what a devoted mother Susan was, but no one could deny that the Hallidays’ marriage had been strained for several years.
Dustin claimed to have run into the living room in time to have seen the intruders—a black man and a long-haired white man—leaving the house. But his testimony apparently wasn’t credible. He was confused on the stand and contradicted himself several times. Once he testified that the white intruder looked straight at him and said, “Close your eyes, kid.” When a young female prosecutor on Wallace’s team questioned him, he claimed not to have seen either of the intruders’ faces. He was also unclear as to whether the intruders had dropped the gun (and his mother had picked it up) or taken it with them when they
“I’d seen that stuff on my desk a couple of weeks ago but didn’t ask about it,” Jeff said. “Kim’s always printing out a ton of stuff. Girl doesn’t know how to bookmark. She’s not very high-tech. Anyway, it looks like she was really interested in that one case. Where the mom shot the dad. I found Zach’s book under all this stuff. She’d marked a bunch of pages in the section about Dustin Halliday. Even highlighted some stuff.”
“Dustin Halliday?”
“One of Susan and Todd Halliday’s two kids. He was in juvenile detention a few years after his father was killed, and he was one of the kids Zach put in his book. In the book the kid keeps saying the prosecution got it wrong—that his mother wasn’t guilty.”
“Zach did mention that she was interested in him.” I flipped through the papers again. “Donald Wallace prosecuted that case.”
“She never even mentioned Wallace to me,” Jeff murmured, picking up Sylvestress. “Not when I was watching all my news shows. Not ever.”
Sylvie pawed at Jeff’s chest and leaped out of his arms.
“Sylvestress hates drunks,” Jeff told me.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” I protested weakly.
“I would,” Jeff said.
I couldn’t decide if he was joking, so I didn’t reply.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“No,” he answered. “I didn’t come here for food. Just to show you this stuff—and to apologize.”
“No need to,” I said, feeling awkward—like I didn’t know him all of a sudden. Like he was a stumbling waiter to whom I needed to be overly polite and reassuring.
I knew how to deal with the Jeff of Our Many Mutual Disappointments. But Jeff with a potential tragedy in his life—the tragedy that Kim seemed to be turning into—that person I wasn’t sure how to speak to.
“I think I’m gonna go home now,” he said. “Watch some news.”
I started to say, You don’t have to, but stopped myself. He knew he didn’t have to.
Boober watched him pensively from the living-room window as he got into his car. Unable to pretend I was motivated enough to work on Marge, I read through the printouts about the Halliday murder.
It felt, at first glance, more straightforward than the Andrew Abbott case. At least Satan wasn’t involved. Susan Halliday was convicted of killing her husband with his own gun. Sadly, her two boys—twelve and fourteen then—were at home at the time of the shooting. Dustin—the younger of the two sons—woke up when the gun went off, but his older brother, Trenton, slept through it and awoke right before the police arrived. Susan Halliday claimed that two intruders had come into the house, her husband had confronted them with his handgun, there was a struggle, and he was shot in the neck.
It obviously wasn’t a very believable story. There were no fingerprints on the gun, but Trenton Halliday claimed that he saw his mother wiping down the gun as the family waited for an ambulance to arrive. Additionally, for almost a year Susan Halliday had been sleeping with a coworker of hers at the Department of Motor Vehicles. Donald Wallace and his team made a great deal out of that. Several character witnesses spoke of what a devoted mother Susan was, but no one could deny that the Hallidays’ marriage had been strained for several years.
Dustin claimed to have run into the living room in time to have seen the intruders—a black man and a long-haired white man—leaving the house. But his testimony apparently wasn’t credible. He was confused on the stand and contradicted himself several times. Once he testified that the white intruder looked straight at him and said, “Close your eyes, kid.” When a young female prosecutor on Wallace’s team questioned him, he claimed not to have seen either of the intruders’ faces. He was also unclear as to whether the intruders had dropped the gun (and his mother had picked it up) or taken it with them when they
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