Execution of Innocence by Christopher Pike

Riles repeated when he felt he was losing the judge. “They were there, I’m sure of it, and that's where Dick must have died.”
    “You’re not sure where Dick died,” Pierce corrected him. “But even if you are right about that, the shoe prints alone aren’t enough to tie the girls to the scene of the crime.”
    “The prints also matched their shoe sizes.”
    “But as your partner no doubt told you, all kids wear those same shoes in about the same size.”
    “Sharp agreed with my decision to arrest,” Riles said. Sitting across from him, Sharp nodded. They stuck together, in good and bad. But of the two of them only Riles knew how bad this could be if they screwed up.
    Pierce continued. “I respect you, Lieutenant, I always have. I know you must have had a long and trying night. And you have collected several pieces of interesting evidence. But, in my opinion, you have failed to make a case for why the girls were arrested tonight. In two or three days, if they were at the scene of the crime, you should have far more evidence. Better to use science than inspiration. Call the state police, get their experts out.”
    “I have already spoken to the state police. I know how to handle a homicide. But I must protest a couple of your remarks, your honor. I wouldn’t have got the blood from Mary’s hair if I hadn’t arrested them. These girls may only be eighteen, but they’re both strong willed and smart. That Hannah—if I didn't know better I'd have thought she already went to law school, or worse, was a part-time cop.”
    “I know Hannah.” There was a dead spot on the line. “I'm getting another call.”
    “Don’t take it,” Riles said quickly. “It's Spelling.” He almost added “please” but knew that would backfire with Pierce. In either case, the judge ignored the call.
    “Dick was everything to his father,” Pierce said with a sigh. “What can I say to him? He'll want his daughter at home at a time like this.”
    “We can't let them go until we get the blood types back.”
    “What are you looking for with the blood?”
    “A link, of course.”
    “Have you got their blood types on file?”
    “I’m running that down now,” Riles lied.
    “What if Mary has Charlie's blood in her hair and not Dick's?”
    “I've wondered that myself, your honor. But any way you look at it that is still a link.”
    “Not until you find Charlie’s body,” Pierce said.
    “He might be dead, you know. Personally I think he is.”
    “Why get rid of one body and not the other?”
    “To make it look like Charlie did it and then fled.”
    Pierce considered. This was the bad part, his legal mind filing through previous cases. When it came down to it, Riles thought, the law had been designed for the guilty—not for the dead. They never got to file an appeal.
    “The only way we can hold these girls is if the blood in Mary's hair matches Dick’s,” Pierce said finally. “Otherwise we have to let them go. How much more time do you need?”
    “Three hours.”
    “It’s six-thirty now. You have till ten.”
    “What will you set bail at?”
    “Does it matter in Hannah’s case?”
    “No, I suppose not.” Riles paused. Spelling could pay anything. “I'd still like to hold Mary.”
    “Why? There’s time, lieutenant. Build your case slowly and methodically.”
    Riles felt a chill creep through his body. “Your honor, honestly, I don't know how much time there is.” He added, “It might be good to hold Mary for her own protection.”
    “Try explaining that to her. Or to her lawyer.”
    “Spelling will not hire an attorney for Mary. He’ll see the conflict of interest right away.”
    Pierce sharpened his tone. “It doesn’t matter. Mary has to have Dick's blood on her or she walks. Her family is not rich, and they've lived here forever so her bail will not be excessive.”
    Riles realized the conversation was in effect over. They exchanged goodbyes. Riles told Sharp the details, which felt ominous to