"So?"
"Isn't that a rather brief period of time in which to weigh
a man's future?"
The judge leaned back in his cordovan leather chair, which
had been a gift from his daughter, hoping to impress the
young attorney with his composure. "Maybe the docket was
loaded and I was trying to clear it out. Or maybe it was a
slack time and I was able to act quickly. I don't remember.
It was twenty-five years ago."
She lowered her eyes to the notepad resting on her lap.
"You had only two psychiatrists examine Mr. Hicks."
"His retardation was obvious, Miss Gaither."
"I'm not questioning that."
"He was, to put it unkindly, the town idiot. I don't mean
to sound cruel, but that's what he was. He was tolerated.
People saw him, but looked through him, if you know what
I mean. He was a harmless fixture--"
"Harmless?"
Again the judge could have bitten his tongue. "Until the
night he killed your mother."
"No jury convicted him of that, Judge."
Judge Wallace wet his lips, chagrined. "Of course." He
tried to avoid her level gaze so he could collect his thoughts.
"I felt that two psychiatric analyses would be adequate, in
this particular case."
"No doubt I would agree with you, if the analyses hadn't
been so divergent."
"Or, if your mother hadn't been the victim of the crime,"
the judge said, getting in a shot.
She bristled. "I'm going to disregard that, Judge Wallace."
"Well, isn't that what this is all about? Or do you, for
some reason unknown to me, want to question my integrity
and undermine a judgment I made twenty-five years ago?"
"If you've got nothing to hide, then you've got no reason
to believe that your excellent record will be marred by my
asking a few questions, do you?"
"Proceed," he said stiffly.
"The two court-appointed psychiatrists disagreed on Mr.
Hicks's mental condition the night of my mother's murder.
This was the glitch that first intrigued me. After calling District
Attorney Harper's attention to it, he agreed that the case
should be reinvestigated.
' 'One psychiatrist clearly believed that Hicks was incapable
of committing such an act of violence. The other said he was.
Why didn't you seek a third, tie-breaking opinion?"
"It wasn't necessary."
"I disagree, Judge." She paused a moment, then looked
up at him without lifting her head. "You were golf partners
with the doctor you ruled in favor of. The other psychiatrist
was from out of town. That was the first and only time he
ever appeared in your court as an expert witness."
Judge Wallace's face became red with indignation. "If you
doubt my honesty, I suggest you consult with the doctors
themselves, Miss Gaither."
"I've tried. Unfortunately, both are deceased." She met
his hostile gaze coolly. "I did, however, consult with the
last doctor to treat Mr. Hicks. He says you punished the
wrong man, and has given me an affidavit to that effect."
"Miss Gaither." He rose partially from his chair and
slapped the top of his desk. He was angry, but he also felt
naked and vulnerable. The soft knock on his door was a
godsend. "Yes?"
Sheriff Lambert strolled in.
"Reede!" Alex wouldn't have been surprised if the judge
had rushed across the room and embraced him. He seemed
that glad to see him. "Come in."
"Mrs. Lipscomb said you weren't to be disturbed, but
when she told me who was with you, I convinced her that I
might be of service."
"To whom?" Alex asked tartly.
Reede sauntered to the chair next to hers and dropped into
it. Insolent green eyes moved over her. "To anybody who
needs servicing."