“I’ll do whatever you advise, Drew. But I’m going to have to bring the FBI into this. There’s the question of her personal safety. That woman up there can put Snake Knox on death row in Angola.”
Drew nods, but I see more than a trace of judgment in his eyes. “If you’re waiting for her to sit in a courtroom with Snake Knox and tell a jury that he raped her and murdered her husband, you’re going to be waiting a long time. That’s my feeling, anyway. But you’re right to call the FBI. We’ve had enough innocent people hurt lately.”
“Speaking of that, how’s Keisha doing?”
He shakes his head. “I shipped her up to UMC in an ambulance this morning.”
The weight of this news, on top of Cleotha Booker, is almost too much.
“One more thing,” says my old friend. “Annie is having a significant anxiety reaction. She’s trying to cope, but down deep I think she’s regressing to the state she was in after Caitlin was killed. I think death is the trigger, Penn. She simply can’t deal with loss, not even the aura of it. Which shouldn’t surprise us, given how she lost her mother, and others in her life.”
“Drew . . . goddamn it. Tell me what to do.”
He lays a hand on my shoulder and looks into my eyes. “Forget about going back to the courthouse. Annie needs you here, within reach. You understand? Mia alone is not enough.”
“I understand. I’ll stay.”
“And you’ll call the FBI?”
“The second you leave.”
“Okay. I’ll check back in about three hours.”
When Tim pulls the door shut after Drew, I take out my cell phone and, ignoring the latest texts from Rusty Duncan, speed-dial John Kaiser.
“Penn,” he answers. “What’s up?”
“John, listen. Are you in Natchez right now?”
“Yeah. What’s going on? I heard you left the courtroom.”
“Buddy . . . I’ve got an eyewitness who can testify to Snake Knox committing rape and murder. The victim was her husband.”
First there’s only silence. Then Kaiser says, “Who the hell are you talking about?”
“I can’t tell you that unless you promise to go very easy with this woman. She does not want me to call the Bureau. In fact, she’s told me she would recant everything if I did.”
“Are you sure she’s on the level?”
“John, if she ever decides to testify, she’ll be God’s gift to whatever prosecutor gets Snake’s case.”
“If she didn’t want you to call me, why did you?”
“Her life’s in danger. I think her mother-in-law was assaulted last night. She’s probably close to death now, if not dead already.”
“Good God. Where’s this woman now?”
I hesitate, then decide to trust him. “At my Washington Street house. But you may not be able to talk to her for a while. Drew just sedated her. This is the witness you’ve been looking for from the beginning, John. Don’t blow it by rushing her, okay? If you come, come alone.”
“Message received. I can be there in . . . is an hour okay?”
“Two might be better. I told you, she’s out for now. And I need to figure out how to explain you showing up.”
“I’ll see you around lunch, then. Just me.”
I hit end, then text Serenity: Are you okay? She’s only upstairs, but something tells me that Dolores St. Denis might not want me barging into her room.
The reply comes in twenty seconds: D finally sleeping for real. I’m going to stay with her for now. Worried she might harm herself if she wakes alone.
I type: I just talked to FBI. They’re going to have to be involved. If only for protection, not testimony. John Kaiser will come alone. Will not pressure D. Think about how we can convince D she’ll be safe with them.
This time there’s a delay. Then Serenity types: You mean how we can lie?
NO, I answer.
We killed Cleotha Booker, Penn. We led them to her.
Serenity is obviously overcome with guilt.
She’s not dead yet, I type. I’ll talk to you in a while. Let me know if I can bring anything up.
I wait for an answer, but my phone remains quiet.
Walking back to the kitchen, I take out a cold Tab, drink half the can in one fizzy rush, then sit down and scan Rusty’s most recent messages. They seem like missives from some faraway proceeding to which I’m only incidentally connected. I suddenly realize that I’m using them to escape the guilt I feel at what’s happened to the Cat Lady.
9:37 a.m. When Cora found Viola dead, she panicked. Felt like “man walking in space.” She called Lincoln, not Tom, and then told Linc about suicide pact. Linc furious. Almost in Natz by then. Told Cora call 911, ask for paramedics and ACSO.
9:39 a.m. Lincoln arrived on scene just after Sheriff’s Department.
9:45 a.m. Shad tenders witness, reserves right to recall Cora.
Shad is reserving the right to recall Cora because he wants to stay focused on the forensic case and not disturb the timeline he’s engraving in the minds of the jury. But she will be back, and her testimony will likely be the stuff of daytime melodrama.
9:46 a.m. Holy shit! Quentin said “No questions” AGAIN! Not going to cross! WTF?
Now my pulse is picking up. I can’t imagine any possible reason that Quentin would let Cora Revels leave the stand without cross-examining her.
9:48 a.m. Shad looks like the cat who ate canary. He can’t believe his luck. I can’t either. Why is Q lying down? Alzheimers for real???
9:53 a.m. Shad called Sheriff’s Detective Joiner to stand.
10:06 a.m. Joiner says deputies assumed they working asst suicide case. Found morphine vial, syringe, hairs and fibers, yadda yadda. Bagged and tagged all. Found camcorder on tripod, no tape.
10:19 a.m. Shad tenders witness and . . . NO FUCKING CROSS! You gotta get down here man. You have 2 fire Quentin. Obvs malpractice! Shad dragging your dad to Parchman with nobody pulling the other way on the rope.
In less than an hour, my bewilderment has escalated to anxiety, frustration, and now outright anger.
10:24 a.m. Sheriff Byrd on stand now.
10:32 a.m. Byrd testifies Shad showed him the tape of V’s death at 1:07 p.m. Monday 12-12 and said he was first person other than Shad to see it. Shad explained Henry Sexton provided camera, recording made accidentally. Sexton pointed out existence of recording. Shad, Byrd put tape into evidence, later had copy made by pro.
10:44 a.m. Shad tendered Byrd, reserved right to recall. No cross from Quentin. No surprise. I need some f’ing Xanax.
Rusty doesn’t even bother to raise hell this time. Every lawyer in the courtroom must be about to burst, but of course no one can say anything.
10:49 a.m. Fingerprint expert on stand. Prints on syringe and vial your dad’s. Immediate AFIS match based on your dad’s gun carry permit. Yawn.
11:01 a.m. Shad tenders witness. No cross. u surprised?
11:08 a.m. Hair and fiber xpert. Your dad’s hair all over the scene. DNA match. Carpet fibers from your dad’s house all over. Shad tenders . . . no cross. Too depressing to watch, man. This is going to be a conviction in world record time. Q’s lost it. I’ll take over if u want. It’s that bad.