“Yeah, a little nervous leaving my dad behind.”

He started to say something, but stopped himself. “How’s your brother’s case going? Does all this”—he pointed his chin to the computer monitor that was still flashing images of RBG at rapid speed—“have something to do with it?”

Maggie was spared the explanation when Toby noticed that the program was complete.

“Ready?” he asked.

Maggie nodded.

Toby wiped his hands on his pants and went back to the workstation. On the screen was a frozen image of Ruth Bader Ginsburg. But she was wearing Maggie’s clothes. Toby clicked the mouse and the video began. It was both amazing and troubling. The late RBG stood in Toby’s garage and said, “Eric Hutchinson is an asshole. A total asshole!”

“How in the hell…?” Maggie said, impressed.

Toby beamed, proud of himself. “Give me an hour to adjust the lighting and minimize the blurriness around the head”—he pointed at the screen—“and it would take an expert to tell it’s a fake.”

Maggie shook her head. “Play it again.”

He did. This time Maggie studied it closely. RBG’s mouth moved in sync to Maggie’s words. Her head was proportional to Maggie’s body. “You can do this for anyone if you have an image?”

“Yep, though the more images of the person, the better the quality. But these porn dudes spent a lot of time on this, so the tech is solid.”

Never underestimate the power of a creep with too much time on his hands.

“You made a video. Could someone do this from a live call?”

“Probably,” Toby said. “But if the caller didn’t talk much, they could also just make it look live and pump in a video feed.”

“Can you make me one more?” Maggie asked.

“Sure,” Toby said, biting into a pizza roll, red goo dripping down his chin.

Maggie leaned over his shoulder and tapped on his computer, pulling up Netflix.

“Whose image are you looking for?” Toby asked.

Maggie didn’t reply. She just clicked the mouse, fast-forwarding until she found what she needed. She paused on the image. Charlotte’s pretty face looked back at the two of them.

Maggie stood up tall, adjusted her hair. “I need you to film me again.”

Excerpt from

A Violent Nature

Season 1/Episode 8

“The Unknown Partygoer”

INT. CAR – SUNRISE

Lieutenant Governor NOAH BRAWN looks ahead at the sun casting highlights on cornfields lining the two-lane highway.

NOAH

I’ve known Detective Ron Sampson for years. I don’t believe he intended to coerce a false confession. The Adair force had never handled a homicide case, never had sophisticated interrogation training. And even good people, dedicated professionals in the system, make mistakes. It’s one of the awful truths of our supposedly foolproof justice system: innocent people aren’t just locked up because of odious wrongdoing, but also because of devastating human error.

INTERVIEWER (O.S.)

Interrogation experts we’ve talked to haven’t been so charitable to Detective Sampson or his partner.

NOAH

I understand. The interrogation is hard to watch. But I believe Ron had his doubts himself and wanted to keep investigating, but was shut down by the county prosecutor.

INTERVIEWER (O.S.)

You’re no fan of Rusty Halford?

NOAH

Don’t get me started.

INTERVIEWER (O.S.)

Did Danny’s case inspire all the work you’ve been doing for criminal justice reform?

NOAH

Absolutely. Fifteen percent of cases recorded in the National Registry of Exonerations included false confessions. Almost a third involve eyewitness identification, which we’ve learned is notoriously unreliable. Jailhouse informant testimony makes up another fifteen percent. We’re trying to fix that in Nebraska and nationwide.

INTERVIEWER (O.S.)

This sounds really personal to you.

NOAH

You’re damn right—forgive my language. I’ve known Danny’s mother since high school. And I knew Charlotte. After my wife passed, I used to eat at the diner a few times a week where she worked. My son went to school with all these kids. And it offends me that the prosecutor had a report about an unknown man at the party that night, and a separate report about eerily similar crimes in a neighboring state, and he doesn’t give this stuff to the defense. That’s not how a fair system operates.

INTERVIEWER (O.S.)

You believe the Unknown Partygoer and the Smasher are the same person?

NOAH

To paraphrase my son: “Duh.”

CHAPTER 28

OLIVIA PINE

BEFORE

Liv forced down another sip of the awful convenience store coffee as she parked at the lot next to the city center in Lincoln.

She made her way up the steps to the State Capitol building, through security, and to the elevators leading to the interior offices of the ornate structure. She recalled making this same journey two years ago, just after the documentary came out. Back then she’d come to see if Noah could convince Governor Turner—a toad-faced sycophant who’d been in office for three decades—to support Danny’s petition for a pardon. A long shot, yes. But Noah had played an important role in ‘A Violent Nature’: the crusading politician out for justice. His handsome face was interspersed throughout the ten episodes. The documentarians were particularly fond of filming Noah driving from his home in Adair to the capital as he waxed poetic about criminal justice reform. His defense of Danny and condemnation of the system that convicted him were eloquent.

It didn’t hurt that Noah was from Adair. He’d been the mayor before his election to lieutenant governor. His son was a classmate of Danny’s. But most of all, he had a very personal connection to that ugly night: Noah’s son had thrown the house party where Charlotte was last seen alive. Most politicians would have tried to distance themselves from the case, but Noah owned it. Liv never knew if it was out of loyalty to her, or guilt about the party where Danny had consumed so much alcohol that he couldn’t remember anything about that night.

The documentary made Noah an internet heartthrob, the dashing widower-politician trying to free an innocent man. Women of a certain age made suggestive comments about him on Facebook. He’d participated in a speaking tour about the problem of wrongful convictions. He was even invited on Bill Maher and some of the political shows, a rarity for the lieutenant governor of a flyover state.

Liv walked into Noah’s office. The receptionist, a pretty woman in her twenties, greeted her with a plastic smile.

“Hi,” Liv said, “I’m Olivia Pine. I’m hoping to get a moment with Lieutenant Governor Brawn.”

The young woman pecked at her computer. Her eyes searching the monitor, she said, “I don’t see an appointment.”

“I don’t have one. We’re old friends. I’m visiting from out of town. Can you tell him Liv is here?”

The receptionist smiled, not as friendly as before. “Please have a seat.”

A few minutes later a young man came out from the interior offices, and Liv was taken aback.

“Mrs. Pine?”

He wore shirtsleeves rolled to the elbow, and had his father’s gray-blue eyes.

“Oh my goodness, Kyle. You’re so grown-up.”

Liv felt a sudden ache in her chest. Seeing Noah’s son, a former classmate of Danny’s, flooded her thoughts with the what-ifs and what-could-have-beens.

“How are you?” Kyle said as they exchanged an awkward hug. Noah had once told her that Kyle suffered a lot of guilt about throwing that party. Liv never held it against the boy; he was a kid. The class president engaging in his first act of rebellion, if only to impress the jocks. And the truth was that if Danny and Charlotte hadn’t been partying there, they would’ve been partying somewhere else. Liv and Evan had a recurring fight, blaming each other about the lax oversight of their son.

“I’m well,” Liv said. “And you? You’re working for your father?”

“Part-time. I’m in law school at UNL.”

“That’s great, Kyle, just terrific.” Liv felt the ache again.

Kyle didn’t ask why she was there, just led her through the door to the back of the suite and into his father’s office.

Noah came around from behind his desk. “What a surprise.”

“Not an unpleasant one, I hope.”

“Are you kidding me?” He gave her a hug. They both made a point of patting the other’s back.

“I see you’ve met the office whipping boy,” Noah said. He put a hand on Kyle’s shoulder.

“I did. I thought I was looking at a photo of you from college.”

“But without the mullet,” Kyle added with a small laugh.

“Hey, that was totally the style. Tell him how cool I was, Livie.”

Hearing the old nickname threw her off balance. “He certainly thought he was cool,” Liv said, giving Kyle a knowing smile.

“I’ll let you two catch up,” Kyle said.