Between Black and White (McMurtrie and Drake Legal Thrillers #2)(69)

“Lila is with Momma in Huntsville,” she whispered into his ear. “She’s just too young . . . but I brought T. J. with me.”

Bo looked past his estranged wife to his teenage son. He held out his hand for T. J. to shake, but the boy grabbed him in a bear hug. “I love you, Dad. I’m here for you, dog.”

“I didn’t do it,” Bo said, looking at T. J. first, then Jazz. “I didn’t kill him.”

Jazz nodded, wiping her eyes. “We know. Ray Ray said you were framed. He said you’ve been the victim of a rush to judgment.”

Bo glanced at Ray Ray Pickalew, who was going over the jury list with Tom and Rick. He started to call his name when the bailiff’s voice cut through the air like a knife. “ALL RISE!”

As the attorneys rose to their feet, Jazz kissed Bo on the cheek. “I love you,” she said.

“I love you too,” Bo said. He gave her one last squeeze, and Rick escorted her and T. J. to a spot on the front row.

“Please be seated,” Judge Connelly said. When everyone had followed her instruction, the judge cleared her throat and spoke into a microphone that had been placed on the bench. “The court hereby calls for trial the case of The State of Tennessee v. Bocephus Aurulius Haynes. Is the state ready?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Helen Lewis said.

“Is the defense ready?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Tom said.

“All right then,” the judge said, turning to her bailiff. “Let’s bring in the jury pool.”



“How in the hell did you get her here?” Tom whispered under his breath to Ray Ray as the jury venire filtered in.

“Who do you think her divorce lawyer is?” Ray Ray said, flashing his Joker grin.

“Ray Ray, no.”

“Relax, Tommy. They’re just separated. She still loves the son of a bitch. But”—he winked—“even if they did end up breaking the knot, it would be in Mrs. Haynes’s best interests if her ex-husband weren’t facing lethal injection. Take it from me, it ain’t easy collecting alimony from men on death row.”

Tom shook his head and smiled despite himself. “Somehow you take a heartwarming moment and shit and piss all over it.”

“It’s a gift,” Ray Ray said. “Now let’s find Bocephus a jury of his peers.”





50


By 4:00 p.m. they had selected a jury. Eight men and four women. Eleven whites and only one black. The lone African American juror was Delray Bender, who had been on the “maybe” list for the defense team due to his presumed resentment of Bo using a different auto mechanic service.

“This is the jury of my peers,” Bo whispered, gazing out at them as they took their seats in the twelve chairs that would face the witness stand. “I should start picking out my coffin.”

“It’s not the dream team,” Ray Ray whispered back, “but Woody Brooks ain’t all bad. He’s white and a retiree, but he’s also fairly liberal. He lives in my neighborhood, and his house was the only one I can remember with an Obama sign in it.” Bo watched Mr. Brooks take his seat. When the white-haired man was in his chair, he looked over at Bo with cold eyes.

“If you say so,” Bo said.

“Millie Sanderson is also OK,” Ray Ray continued, and Bo nodded. He knew Millie as well. She was a civics teacher at Giles County High. Had T. J. not transferred to the Huntsville City School system in the fall, he would have had Millie for civics. Midforties, red hair, and green eyes, Millie was an attractive woman with a nice smile. “I bet Millie was on Helen’s strike list and they ran out of strikes before they could get rid of her,” Ray Ray continued.

Five minutes later Judge Connelly recessed the trial for the day, saying they’d start with opening statements in the morning.

“If we could buy a little more time, then maybe JimBone would surface,” Tom said after the jury had adjourned. “I still think he did the deed at Larry Tucker’s beckoning. If we can catch JimBone, he might want to deal.”

“Susan would deny any motion to continue at this point,” Ray Ray said, heading for the door and looking at Rick. “I’d start working on my opening.”

“Where are you going?” Tom asked him.

“My work here is done, fellas. The jury is in the box and my brain is fried. I’m going to get drunk. Maybe try to get laid too. It’s been a while. I’ll see y’all in the morning.”

“Ray Ray . . .” But the shutting of the door cut Tom’s voice off.

“Just let him go, Professor,” Bo said. “He’s right. He finished his role.”

But Tom wasn’t listening. He left the courtroom and caught up with Ray Ray out in the lobby, grabbing his friend by the arm before he could walk down the stairs. “What the hell, Ray Ray? We need you tonight to prepare for tomorrow.”

“No, Tommy. What we need is to prove that Larry Tucker was part of the lynch mob that killed Bo’s father. That’ll pack Darla Ford’s testimony with some bite and provide a clear motive for Larry to do the deed.” He paused. “Larry’s our best shot, and we both know it. The murder happened at his club. If we can show motive too, we might be able to spread some reasonable doubt on the case against Bo.” He slapped Tom on the shoulder. “I’m on it, Tommy, but I won’t do any good hanging around Bo’s office.” He paused. “I’m going to have to go dog-and-bone it.”