The Eighth Sister (Charles Jenkins #1)(122)

Juror number four, a mother of two who ran her own business, stood. “We have, Your Honor.”

Jenkins’s chest gripped.

“Will the bailiff please hand the verdict to the clerk of the court?” Harden said.

The bailiff did. The clerk handed Harden the verdict. Harden read through the pages without giving any hint of the jury’s findings. Jenkins could hear his breath rattling in his chest. The rest of the courtroom was deathly quiet. He thought of what he would miss—the birthdays and the holidays, reading to CJ, feeding Lizzie, holding his wife in bed.

Harden returned the document to the court clerk. “The defendant will please rise and face the jury.”

Jenkins needed Sloane’s assistance to get to his feet. He put his hands on the table to steady himself. His heart pounded and his ears rang. He turned his head and looked over his shoulder to the first row in the gallery. Alex gave him a small smile, but he could see she was fighting back tears. So, too, was Carolyn.

The jury foreman took the verdict.

“The jury foreman will now read the verdict,” Harden said.

“On the first count,” the woman began, “we the jury find the defendant, Charles William Jenkins, not guilty.”

Jenkins felt Sloane’s hand on his back. He took a breath to keep from hyperventilating, then a second and a third. He looked to Sloane for confirmation. Sloane nodded, smiling. Behind him, it sounded as if the entire courtroom had exhaled.

“On the second count,” the foreman said, her voice growing stronger, “we the jury find the defendant, Charles William Jenkins, not guilty.” This time the foreman allowed herself to glance over at Jenkins. Other jurors also looked at him. Some smiled. Several women had tears in their eyes.

Jenkins felt Sloane reach around and hug his shoulders. On the remaining three counts, the foreman’s verdict was the same. “Not guilty.”

The courtroom gallery erupted. Harden banged his gavel to restore order, thanked the jury, and excused them. Velasquez and her team looked stunned by the verdict.

“Mr. Jenkins,” Judge Harden said.

Jenkins turned to face the bench. Harden didn’t smile, but there was a glint in his eyes. “We’re adjourned,” he said. “And you, sir, are free to go.”





Epilogue

In the days, weeks, and months following the verdict, Jenkins’s life slowly returned to normal. For a period of time he was asked to give interviews and to appear on television programs. He didn’t want to do any of it, but Alex had persuaded him that it was important he do so. She said that being the first agent found not guilty of espionage by a jury was a story other agents needed to hear, first and foremost as a precautionary tale about how quickly things could go wrong, and how an agent could be left out in the cold.

They also needed the money.

In interviews, Jenkins told reporters he continued to love his country and always would, that it wasn’t perfect, but he still considered it the best place in the world to live.

Several jurors also did interviews. Their statements were more pointed. The majority indicated they didn’t have the same confidence in the government that other generations once had. They’d become much more skeptical of politicians and government agencies. One had said, “Where there is smoke, there is usually a fire, and this trial had a lot of smoke.”

David Sloane couldn’t have scripted it any better.

When the euphoria of his not-guilty verdict finally evaporated, and Jenkins no longer warranted coverage, he returned his family to Camano Island, to his farm. His reception in the small town of Stanwood was cordial. At school and on the sidelines of CJ’s soccer games—CJ had improved dramatically from his one-on-one training with his tutor—one of the other parents would occasionally stop to congratulate Jenkins, and to tell him they had been pulling for him. He thanked them. He also didn’t believe them. He knew, human nature being what it is, that they had condemned him the moment he had been arrested, and they had absolved him only after the verdict. Some anyway. Others would always consider him a traitor who had managed to dodge a bullet.

Jenkins didn’t care. He knew the truth, and the truth had set him free.

He entertained a six-figure book deal and spent most of his days taking care of his baby daughter while Alex worked in Jake’s classroom. He’d have to eventually look for a full-time job, or write that book, but for the time being he was happy doing part-time work for Sloane again, and being a househusband.

When Elizabeth turned six months, they drove down to Three Tree Point to celebrate news that Jake had passed the Washington State bar exam. No one would say it, but the gathering had another purpose. They’d never celebrated the verdict.

Alex worked in the kitchen making tacos while Lizzie slept. Jenkins, seeing an opportunity to spend time with CJ, slipped out the back door with his son, and they walked to the water’s edge with fishing poles and the tackle box.

CJ had become a patient and skilled fisherman, having already caught three kings and multiple silvers. The other fishermen had come to know him by name. If they knew him as the son of a man acquitted of espionage, they didn’t say it. When it came to fishermen, they had a single purpose with each cast.

Jenkins handed CJ a fishing pole, and the young boy cast. Jenkins prepared his pole, noting that his right hand no longer shook, and hadn’t since the verdict. He cast and began to reel.