Due Process (Joe Dillard #9)(42)

Patrick Lonon, a long-time public defender, stepped to the podium. The judge looked over at the jury box.

“Mr. Beaumont, would you be willing to represent Mr. Belle?” the judge said.

“Happy to,” Jim Beaumont said, and he walked to the podium. Beaumont had been practicing law for more than forty years in the First Judicial District. He dressed like a cowboy, his mouth was covered by a long, white moustache and goatee, and he spoke in a deep, throaty Southern drawl. He was an excellent lawyer, and I was glad to have him on our side.

Both Demonte Wright and Evan Belle waived the reading of the indictment and entered pleas of not guilty.

“Bail is set at seventy-five thousand dollars for both of these defendants,” Judge Neese said. “What about scheduling?”

The lawyers all looked at each other. I decided to speak up.

“Set it for trial as soon as you possibly can, please,” I said.

“We’re still developing evidence and witnesses,” Armstrong said. “We’ll need at least six months.”

“If you’re still developing witnesses, you should have held off on indicting them,” Judge Neese said.

She looked through her calendar, conferred with her clerk, and said, “December tenth. Two months and one day from today. The deadlines for motions, experts, alibis, and discovery will be tight. I’ll send all of you a scheduling order. I suggest you get to work.”

I asked one of the bailiffs if I could speak to my client in the jury room before they returned him to the holding cell in back, and he agreed. He stood outside as I closed the door.

“Take a seat,” I said to Kevin.

His eyes were down and his shoulders slumped. When he raised his eyes to look at me, they were glistening with tears.

“Why are they doing this to me?” he said. “Everything I’ve worked so hard for is gone. I guarantee you the paperwork has already been signed to kick me out of school. I’ll get a notice soon from UT’s law school that my acceptance has been rescinded. And for what? Because I was stupid enough to let a stripper come into our house at a party. That’s all I did. I didn’t lay a hand on her.”

“I know,” I said, sitting down next to him. “I believe you. Right now, though, I’m concerned about your safety. Where are you planning to go when your parents get you out of jail?”

He shook his head slowly.

“I don’t know. I won’t be able to move back into the house if they kick me out of school. I was surprised they didn’t make us leave when they kicked us off the team, but nobody told us to go. They’ll tell me to go now, for sure. I guess maybe I could get a job and rent a place somewhere around here until this is over. I doubt it, though. Nobody will give me a job after all this publicity.”

“Maybe you should think about going to Collierville and staying with your parents.”

“Why? I don’t want to move back in with my parents. Besides, it’s six hundred miles away. I’d like to stay closer, maybe try to help out somehow.”

“I’m afraid somebody will try to hurt you,” I said. “A lot of bitterness and hatred has come boiling to the surface in the country over the past couple of years. You’re a black man accused of raping a white woman. This case has received national publicity. I think you’re going to have to be extremely careful.”

“What are they going to do to me that hasn’t already been done? Kill me? Dying would be better than this.”

“If you don’t want to go home, why don’t you come stay with my wife and me? She’s pretty sick right now, but you can help me out with her if you don’t mind. You can help out at the law office some if you want. Help us out with your case. I’d feel a lot better knowing you’re safe.”

“Really?” Kevin said. “You’d do that for me?”

“Yeah, and I don’t even have to ask my wife, because I know what her answer would be. She’d say, ‘If he needs a place to stay, if he needs help, we’ll help him.’”

“You’re a good man,” he said.

“You don’t know me that well. But I expect you to pay it forward someday.”

“Mr. Dillard, am I going to spend the rest of my life in jail?”

“No. I’m not going to let that happen. But you’re in for a hard, hard ride over the next few months. You’ll have to be braver and tougher than you’ve ever been. Bad things happen to good people, Kevin. My wife has had cancer for years, but she fights through the pain every day because she wants to live. I want the same thing for you. I want you to live. But you have to want it, too. You can’t give in to despair. Do you think your parents will be okay with you staying with me?”

“I think they’ll be okay with it.”

“Good. There’s only one problem we have to deal with.”

“What’s that?”

“You have to make friends with the guardian of the property at my house.”

He looked at me curiously.

“He’s a German shepherd. His name is Rio. If he likes you, and I think he will, nobody will get anywhere near you.”





WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 9

Kevin Davidson had lunch with his parents after they bailed him out of jail. They called me while they were still all at the restaurant. I was apparently on speaker while we talked. They must have been outside because I could hear the wind whistling lightly over the phone.