He's sullen and he's smoking and from the first moment Nancy sets eyes on him, she hates him.

"Guess he really doesn't think I have a chance, if he's sending in a cheerleader for the interview."

She glances down at her outfit, biting back a retort, and throws herself into the hardback chair opposite. She was practically raised in this interview room, and he's grinding out his cigarette on the scarred wood of the table.

"We need to go over your testimony."

He leans forward. "All my other attorneys, and I've had many... have all said that 'No comment' generally serves pretty well."

"Not when you're the main suspect, and both you and your father have been tried for murder."

He shrugs. "Acquitted."

Nancy sighs, frustrated. "Mr. Echolls..."

"Call me Logan." He smirks and starts fumbling in his pocket for his cigarettes, not looking at her.

"I'd call you Tom Hanks if I thought it would do any good. But Tom Hanks hasn't ever had his fingerprints found on a murder weapon."

"Guess that makes me better than him, huh."

They are glaring across the table at each other when Carson pushes through the door and directs a smile at his daughter.

"Thanks for holding down the fort."

Nancy returns his smile halfheartedly and pushes back from the table. "Sure, Dad. See you at home."

"So this is Nancy?"

Her gaze is ice when it sweeps over him, as she glances back over her shoulder, and Carson nods and Logan's gaze turns speculative, and she is gone in a flounce of skirt and the slam of the door.