“I’m the lucky one. She’s putting me on salary, plus I’ll keep a percentage of my fees. Suzanne says she’s getting too old for solo practice. She can cut down her hours now, because I can make appearances on her behalf.”
“What’s she paying you?”
I paused, reluctant to answer. My mama was always skittish talking about money. She was strict in her code of conduct, even if she was a cleaning lady.
I dipped a spoon into the buttery grits and popped it into my mouth. I regretted the move immediately.
“Too hot,” I groaned with my mouth full.
“Girl, you know better than to eat grits before they’ve had a chance to cool down. I’d call you Goldilocks, except your hair is such a pretty chestnut brown.”
I pushed the bowl away and took a long swig of ice water. Shorty reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “I didn’t mean to be nosy.”
I waved off the statement. “I’m too closemouthed; can’t help it. But this much I’ll say: it’s enough for me to move out of the back of the Ben Franklin. I’m going apartment hunting today. Ain’t that cool? Suzanne has already cut me a check. I feel rich as a Lannister.” We’d been watching Game of Thrones.
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.”
“I will. And I’ll be quick about it.”
As soon as the judge said good-bye, Suzanne cut off the call with a vicious thrust of her forefinger. Then she turned on Lee.
“Are you crazy?”
Lee didn’t respond. He just set his jaw and met her glare.
She said, “I know you haven’t dirtied your hands with criminal defense, so you may not know a basic fact. In criminal cases, delay is good for the defense. Bad for the prosecution.”
She was right. But I kept my mouth shut. Suzanne didn’t need me to make her case.
“As time goes by, witnesses’ memories fade. They leave town. Evidence can be lost. The community forgets. Our potential jurors’ feelings of outrage will dissipate. This is what we want.”
“I don’t care,” Lee said, his voice sulky as a child’s.
“You better care. And another thing, young man: we don’t have a defense. Have you thought about that? Do you care?”
Mr. Greene spoke up. “I’ve paid a fortune to that private detective out of New Orleans. What happened to my money?”
They turned to my end of the table. Four sets of blue eyes focused on me. I had been the contact with the PI.
I spoke, trying to sound assured, as if the eyes of the Greene family didn’t rattle me. “I’m meeting with him this week. He says he’s uncovered something about the victim. He has a lead.”
“Is that all?” Mr. Greene shook his head in disgust.
Lee looked away from me and focused on the tabletop. “I want this behind me. Do you know what I’m going through? I can’t show my face in Jackson. My only distraction is the dog pound in Barnes County. The rest of the time, I’m back in my old bedroom at Daddy and Mama’s, staring at the fucking wall.”
Mr. Greene slapped his hand on the conference table. “You mind your language. Your mama is present.”
Suzanne stood and walked out of the conference room. I sat in silence, staring at the law books lining the shelves on the wall, until Lee spoke.
“Ruby, what do you think?”