Juror #3(55)

“And it’s got his prints.”





Chapter 49



I SWUNG AROUND and checked out Deputy Brockes. It appeared that Brockes had also overheard the sheriff’s pronouncement. His face had blanched, and his jaw opened and shut, and then opened again.

“I-I—n-n-never,” he said, sputtering.

Sheriff Stark left the witness stand, and with a jerk of his head, he signaled to Deputy Potts in the back of the courtroom. Both lawmen advanced on young Brockes. Brockes backed away, shaking his head.

Sheriff Stark said, “You need to come along, son.”

“Why? Wha-What for?”

The sheriff lowered his voice, but he was only a few feet away from me. I could hear him clearly.

“Looks like you’re a suspect in the investigation of the Vicksburg man’s death. I expect we can clear it all up. I’m sure we can. But we need to have a talk, Deputy.”

He grasped Brockes by the elbow, but the young man jerked his arm away.

“Wasn’t me. I don’t know nothing about that Vicksburg man, nothing except we seen him in his car that night. Ain’t that right, Potts?”

Deputy Potts had reached his partner’s side. His face was grave as he looked to the sheriff for direction.

The pitch of Brockes’s voice rose to a whine, childlike in its intensity. “We pulled him over, is all. It was Potts that said to do it. ‘Pull that Volvo over,’ he told me. ‘It didn’t signal right.’ He was fine when we let him go. Fine as frog hair.”

He turned to his partner. “Ain’t that right, Potts?”

Potts didn’t respond. The sheriff reached for Brockes a second time; again, Brockes snatched his arm away.

The sheriff said to Deputy Potts: “Cuff him.”

With a stony face, Potts pulled the handcuffs from his belt. It took both men to hold Brockes as they clicked the restraints shut. I had to look away; it seemed disrespectful to witness the scene. I turned my focus to Judge Ashley. He and Isaac Keet were exchanging a look.

“Getting kind of rowdy in here, Judge,” Keet said.

For once, I was in agreement with the DA. The spectators in the gallery were buzzing with talk; more important, the jurors were craning their necks to see the drama unfold.

Judge Ashley banged his gavel. “Court will be in recess for fifteen minutes.” To the bailiff, he said, “You’ll probably need to accompany the jurors to the restroom facilities.”

The bailiff spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “I can’t watch over the ladies’ room and the men’s room at the same time. I’ve only got one set of eyes—”

The judge cut him off. “My court clerk will assist. Carla!” he said, pointing to a woman who lingered near the judge’s chambers exit. “Assist with the ladies. Please.”

And Judge Ashley disappeared.





Chapter 50



I HEADED FOR the defense counsel table and walked into the cloud of scent. My nose began to drip. As I dug a wad of Kleenex from my briefcase, I said, “Lee, you can’t wear that cologne. It’s driving me nuts.”

“It’s my new signature scent.” He looked down at my briefcase. “Is that the bag I got you for graduation? You still carry it, after all this time. That is really touching.”

I shoved the briefcase under the table. “Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t carry it for sentimental reasons.”

“Maybe you carry it because it’s nicer than anything you can afford,” he whispered.

I rolled my eyes. That stuck-up son of a bitch. Even if it was true.

Lee drummed his fingers on the wooden tabletop, watching as Deputy Brockes was escorted out of the room, still protesting. After the officers departed, he laughed and said to me in a confiding tone, “Jesus Christ—that Barney Fife deputy doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut. Glad I’m not representing him.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That little deputy they just dragged out of here. What an idiot. I wouldn’t want to represent a dumbshit like him, that’s all I’m saying.”

I stared at him for a long moment. It seemed to me that maybe Lee didn’t have a grasp on reality. We were sitting in a Mississippi courtroom where he was on trial for a murder charge. And if I couldn’t figure out an angle to get the dirt on the victim into evidence, the only legal work Lee would do in the future might be as a jailhouse lawyer in a Mississippi state prison.

I needed to make Lee concentrate on his own situation. “Since I’m seeing Cary Reynolds tonight, I want to be fresh. Give me the background on y’all’s friendship.”

Lee waved it off. “We’re brothers, Ruby. It’s all good.”

“So you stayed tight after college.”

“Well, no. It doesn’t work like that.”

“Did you talk regularly?”

“No. Lord, I don’t think we’d talked in years. But he followed me on Facebook. I posted a picture of dinner at that barbeque place in Vicksburg, and he messaged me.”

“And?”

“And he said he wanted to see me, next time I was in town. He wanted some business advice. I was going to Vicksburg anyway, on depositions. So we made an appointment to have dinner while I was in town.”