Juror #3(37)

So much for that vow.

It looked like I was headed to Vicksburg on a new murder case.





Chapter 33



I SMOOTHED A wrinkle in my skirt as I sat beside Suzanne at the counsel table in the Warren County courtroom in Vicksburg, Mississippi. We were waiting for the Vicksburg police to escort Lee Greene over from the county jail for his arraignment.

The wrinkle was stubborn. No matter how I tugged at it, the crease remained in the black fabric. Suzanne pinched me lightly on the arm.

“Quit fidgeting,” she whispered.

My hands stilled. Lee Greene always looked like a million bucks. When we were dating, he’d eye what I was wearing and shake his head. Walmart? Or Old Navy clearance rack?

The door to the courtroom opened, and a man in an orange jumpsuit entered, escorted by two plainclothes police officers. The prisoner in orange shuffled with an uncertain gait, his hands cuffed in front of him.

I blinked. It took a moment before my brain made the connection. The stumbling figure in orange was my old fiancé, Lee Greene Jr.

As he neared the counsel table, Suzanne stood and placed an arm around his shoulders. “Sit in the middle, hon. Between Ruby and me.”

Lee nodded, collapsing into the chair. I stared at his profile before looking away in embarrassment. His hair, always perfectly groomed and parted on one side, was a greasy tousle. His hands, spread before him in the handcuffs, were dirty. And he smelled to high heaven: stale booze and body odor.

Suzanne was talking in a low tone. “We’re going to get you out of here, Lee. We’re taking you home. Your family is here for you, sugar.”

It was true. I stole a glance over my shoulder at Lee’s parents, who were sitting in the courtroom gallery. Lee Sr.’s face was frozen with shock. His wife was sobbing, her head bent low.

The judge entered, and we rose. Suzanne and I had to help Lee to stand, each of us gripping him under an arm. When the judge began to read the charge against him, Lee turned to Suzanne and whispered.

“I didn’t do it.”

“Shush, honey. Just be quiet now.”

The judge’s voice droned on, reading the legal language: Lee had committed the crime of capital murder by causing the death of Monae Prince during an unnatural sex act. Lee swayed on his feet. I grabbed his arm with both of mine to steady him. He looked down at me with unfocused eyes.

“Ruby, I don’t know what they’re talking about.”

Suzanne’s voice rang out. “Defendant pleads not guilty. We request that a reasonable bond amount be set.”

The judge gave Lee a wary look, then turned to the DA’s table. “What does the prosecution recommend?”

The assistant district attorney stood. I recognized him; he was a guy who’d been two years ahead of me at Ole Miss. Not the brightest dude in law school. Suzanne could tackle him with one hand tied behind her. He said, “We request that the defendant be held without bail.”

Behind me, I heard a voice cry out: “No!” Then Lee’s mother wailed aloud.

Suzanne proceeded as if she hadn’t heard the interruption. “My client has no criminal history—as the DA is perfectly aware. He is not at risk of absconding, and he poses no danger to the community.”

“We contest both of those points,” the ADA said.

But the judge waved a hand and the ADA fell silent. “I’m setting the bond at one million dollars.”

I gasped. Who could make a million-dollar bond? Lee would be in lockup until trial, and that could take several months, maybe even longer.

When the judge moved on to the next docket item, the ADA sidled over to our table. He didn’t acknowledge me and addressed Suzanne.

“Looks like your client will be a guest of the Warren County jail for a while,” he said with a snotty smile on his face.

Suzanne didn’t return the smile. “Lee will be out today,” she said, opening her purse and stuffing her pen inside with an angry thrust.

I followed suit, pulling my Coach briefcase onto the table and placing the file folder inside.

The ADA said, “That’s brave talk. You got a million bucks in your purse, Miss Greene? Or maybe your colleague stuffed the money in her briefcase.”

I clutched the briefcase to my chest in reflex. No danger that he’d find a stash of cash on me. I had less than twenty dollars in my possession.

Suzanne pulled up to her full height and eyed the lawyer. She cut a formidable figure: six feet of affronted southern dowager. In a tone of voice I’d never heard her use before, she said, “Young man, don’t underestimate us. And don’t insult me.”

A property bond, I thought. The ancestral Greene estate, outside of Jackson. It was worth well over a million. I glanced down at Lee in his orange suit and thought: Good God, I hope he doesn’t run off. If Lee jumps bail, his parents will be homeless.

He caught me staring. “Ruby, you have to help me.”

I sat again, and placed a hand on his arm. “Your aunt Suzanne and I are going to do everything we can.”

He bent his head close to mine. I had to steel myself not to back away from the smell.

“Ruby, I wouldn’t hurt a fly. You know me.”

The ADA had moved on, so we weren’t in danger of being overheard. I said, “We’ll get to the bottom of this, Lee. Tell me: What happened with this woman—Monae Prince?”