Juror #3(43)

Leaning across the counter, he kissed me and said, “You’re a Stark.”

I laughed. “Pretty sure I’d be a peasant, pushing a plow in the fields.” Another happy thought struck me. “Shorty—I can get cable TV. Finally.”

I tried to pull my hand back, but he held on. “Ruby, I’ve got an idea. Let’s go to Little Rock. When you have a day or two free?”

That was a quick change of topic. “What’s in Little Rock? Other than the big city lights?”

“My mama. She moved there when I took over the diner, to be near her sister. And I want you to meet her.”

The suggestion caused my heart rate to accelerate. The last time I’d been presented to a boyfriend’s mother, it had been a disaster. Mrs. Greene had taken one look at me and decided I didn’t come up to snuff. Not much had changed.

I didn’t have to reply, because someone was pounding on the glass door. Shorty looked past me, squinting at the entrance. “It’s Jeb. Right on time for breakfast.”

Picking up my briefcase, I said, “I’ll check my calendar. But Shorty, Suzanne is going to be keeping me real busy.” And I planned on remaining far too busy to meet anybody’s mama.

He turned away, pulling a set of keys from his pocket. As he unlocked the front door, he said, “You let me know.”

“I’ll do that,” I said.

Then I fled.





Part Two





Six Months Later





Chapter 38



AS THE MONTHS rolled by, I was busy. My own clientele had picked up; not only was I getting walk-ins at the Ben Franklin, but Judge Baylor had actually begun sending guardianships and juvenile appointments my way. And, true to her word, Suzanne kept me on the run. Our partnership, proudly announced in black paint on the storefront glass of the old Ben Franklin, was so successful that some days passed without my finding time to spare a thought about State v. Lee Greene Jr.

This was not one of those days.

We sat around the conference table at Suzanne’s office in Barnes County, thirty minutes up the highway from Rosedale. No one spoke. I stared at the landline phone sitting on the conference table, waiting for it to ring.

Mr. Greene shifted in his seat. “Suzanne,” he said, but she waved a hand to silence him.

“Hush. We’ll talk afterwards.”

On cue, the phone rang, and Suzanne pushed a button to answer. “This is Suzanne Greene. We’re on speaker.”

“Miss Greene, this is Judge Ashley’s clerk in Vicksburg. I’m going to go ahead and connect y’all.”

We waited. After a tense moment, we heard a man’s voice. “Hello? Hello?”

I pressed my lips together; it wasn’t a fitting moment for laughter. But the judge acted like he’d been born before Alexander Graham Bell invented the telephone.

“Judge, Suzanne Greene here.”

A third voice chimed in. “Isaac Keet, Judge Ashley. I’m on the road. Tell your clerk thanks for patching me in.”

Keet’s voice was totally chill; I envied him. But then, he wasn’t confronting the possibility of a family member or an ex-lover going to prison for life. Or worse.

The judge spoke again. “Glad to get y’all on the phone. I have a new development, something I want to throw out there.”

I met Suzanne’s eyes across the conference table. She looked wary.

“What’s up, Judge Ashley?” Her casual tone contrasted with her guarded expression.

“I have a personal injury jury trial set on my calendar, a month away. It was a big old pileup on Interstate 20. I gave it a whole week of my docket.”

There was a pause, then Isaac Keet’s voice broke in. “Didn’t I hear they settled that up?”

“Yes, sir. All the parties have come to terms. Didn’t even have to do it on the courthouse steps.” The judge cleared his throat. “I bet you can guess what I’m about to propose.”

Suzanne leaned across the table, focusing on Lee and his parents. Silently, she shook her head.

The DA’s voice came through the speaker, smooth as silk. “The state can be ready for trial, Your Honor. I give you my word on that.”

Judge Ashley said, “I appreciate that, Isaac. But it will be the defendant’s call. This is a faster track than we’d generally see in a murder case in Vicksburg. If Miss Greene opposes it, I’ll find another case to fill that space.”

When no one spoke, he added, “Or I guess I could go fishing. Take some time off.”

Suzanne took a deep breath and said, “Judge, while we appreciate the opportunity, I’m afraid the defense will have to decline.”

In the conference room, Lee stood up. “I want it.”

Suzanne gaped at him. Before she could open her mouth, Lee spoke again. “Next month. Let’s do it.”

The speaker crackled with Judge Ashley’s voice. “What’s that? Who’s talking? Isaac, was that you?”

“Not me,” the DA said.

Suzanne pointed a threatening finger at Lee, and he dropped back into his chair. “Your Honor, sorry for the confusion. I’ll need to communicate your proposition to my client. May I get back with y’all on this?”

“Yes, ma’am, Miss Greene. You let me know.”