Second Chair, A Stan Turner Mystery, Vol.4

by William Manchee

  Chapter 2

  Gut Feeling

   

  Three months later

  The law is a jealous mistress. I heard that a lot in law school but I didn't fully appreciate what it meant until I started my own law practice. It seemed every week I was working a little harder and, even though I was getting more efficient all the time, there were never enough hours in the day to get done all that I felt needed to be accomplished.

  Even if it were eight or nine o'clock, I never felt good about going home. There was always that nagging feeling that I should complete one more task before I left. Often the only way I could drag myself away from the office was to fill my briefcase full of files with the intention of working on them at home. I thought by being a sole practitioner I could set my own hours and have a life away from the office. Boy, was I wrong about that. Responsibility is a merciless task master.

  Rebekah hated me to work at home and would try diligently to keep me from opening my briefcase. Between her and four attention-craving children she was usually successful. As the night wore on I would usually forget about work as I became absorbed in my second job as a husband and a father.

  It was nearly eight-thirty when I arrived home from the office. Rebekah was in the family room watching TV. She had learned to accept the fact that I was a workaholic but she made it abundantly clear she didn't like it.

  "Well, who are you? I don't recognize you," she said.

  "Very funny."

  "What in the hell have you been doing? Do you have a girlfriend or something? I never see you anymore."

  "Hey, I had a tough day. Give me a break. I had to get ready for a hearing first thing tomorrow morning. Some asshole attorney served me with a motion to dissolve a writ of garnishment at 4:55 p.m. I've got a hearing on it at 9:00 a.m. tomorrow. Can you believe that shit?"

  "Can they do that?"

  "They're supposed to give me three days notice, but some attorneys are so damn arrogant they don't give a shit about ethics, let alone common decency."

  Marcia came running into the family room. Her big brown eyes lit up when she saw me.

  "Daddy!"

  "Hi, honey."

  She ran over and jumped into my lap. I smiled and gave her a hug. I had always wanted a daughter but after our third son was born in 1975 Rebekah and I almost gave up. As I stroked her long silky black hair, I thanked God we hadn't.

  "What did you do today, baby doll?" I asked.

  "I colored and played with my dolls."

  Rebekah gave Marcia a stern look and said, "What else did you do, little girl?"

  Marcia looked at her mother and then lowered her head. "Nothing," she said.

  "Uh huh," Rebekah said. "I found her playing with Mark's train set."

  "Really. Hmm," I said. "You know you're not supposed to do that. You're too young to be playing with something electrical. It's very dangerous."

  The thought of another accident in our home was horrifying. Within days of Bobby's death we had purchased every safety gadget we could find to protect our children from the numerous hazards existing around the house. We spent hours instructing them on each of these perils and how to deal with any emergency that might arise. We weren't about to have another death at the Turner house.

  "Not to mention the train doesn't belong to her," Rebekah said.

  "I'm sorry," she said as she slid off my lap and ran off. I picked up the newspaper and began reading it. Rebekah looked at me and shook her head.

  "Well, do you want to eat or did your girlfriend feed you?"

  I dropped the newspaper, smiled and replied, "Yes, I'm starving. My girlfriend doesn't cook."

  "Yeah, she doesn't wash clothes either. Too bad, I could use the help," Rebekah said. She got up and walked into the kitchen. I read a few minutes and then joined her. Just as I sat down at the table the telephone rang. Rebekah took a deep breath and then reluctantly got up and answered it. It was for me. She frowned, handed me the phone and then went back to warming up my dinner.

  "Mr. Turner. This is Tom Winters. I was referred to you by your niece, Alice. My daughter and she are neighbors up at ASU."

  "Oh, really? What can I do for you?"

  "It's my daughter, she . . . she . . . well, it's a long story, but she's in serious trouble."

  "What happened?"

  "I don't know where to start. . . . Oh, God, I can't believe this is happening."

  "Just take it slow. Start from the beginning."

  "I got a call last night, after midnight. It was my daughter's boyfriend, Greg. He told me Sarah was in the hospital."

  "Sarah's your daughter?"

  "Right."

  "Okay, what happened to her?"

  "They say she had a baby. I didn't even know she was pregnant for godsakes."

  "Really?"

  "But that's not the problem."

  "Oh."

  "No, they found a baby in a dumpster a mile or so from her apartment. They say it belonged to Sarah. I'm afraid they're going to arrest her."

  A chill radiated down my spine. I picked up the base of the phone, put it on the kitchen table and sat down.

  "Gee, Mr. Winters, I'm so sorry. What a jolt that must have been."

  "You don't know what we've been going through."

  "I can imagine. So what does Sarah have to say about this?"

  "She doesn't remember anything."

  "Really? Huh. Well, who claims she was the mother?"

  "Dr. Esteban, the doctor from the emergency room."

  "Do you have any reason to doubt him?"

  "No. He wouldn't have any reason to lie. But I believe my daughter. I really don't think she remembers what happened. She must have amnesia or something."

  "This is very bizarre," I said.

  "I know it's going to take a while to sort this out, but right now I'm worried about the police trying to talk to her without an attorney. You know how they can intimidate people and get them to admit to just about anything."

  "You're right. She does need a good criminal attorney. Unfortunately, I don't practice criminal law."

  "You don't? I don't understand. Alice has told us such wonderful stories about you. She said you've already solved several murders."

  "Well, that was an aberration, I'm afraid. I'll be honest with you. I don't like criminal law much and I barely passed the criminal law courses I took in law school. I'm a civil attorney."

  "I just don't want my daughter to go to jail."

  "I don't either. You need an experienced criminal lawyer. I'd recommend Harry Hertel. He was my criminal procedure professor at SMU. He has a private practice. All he does is criminal law and he's really good at it, I understand."

  "I don't want him, I want you."

  "But why? I told you I'm not a criminal attorney. I’ve never actually tried a criminal case."

  "It's just a feeling. It's not easy to explain. You see, most of my life I've been a worthless drunk wandering from city to city wallowing in my own self pity. Several years ago I found Christ and my life took a drastic turn for the better. I've learned now to trust God and to look for his guidance. When this nightmare first began, your niece suggested I call you. She told me all about you and all the problems you’ve overcome. You’re a street fighter, you don’t give up and that’s the kind of lawyer I need for Sarah.”

  “A street fighter?”

  “Yeah. You’ll do whatever it takes to win. Anyway, the more she talked about you the more I knew you were the attorney Sarah needed. I believe the Lord has guided me to you, Mr. Turner."

  "Well, I'm flattered, Mr. Winters, but I'm afraid Alice is prejudiced being my niece and everything. I'm not a miracle worker. Sarah's defense will not be easy. She needs a seasoned criminal attorney if she's to have any chance of getting acquitted."

  "Will you at least think about it? I'd really like you to talk to her before you make a definite decision."

  I took a deep breath. Why was it so difficult for people to understand English? Obv
iously I wasn't the right person to handle this case yet there was apparently nothing I could say to convince Tom Winters of that fact. Could it be true that the Lord had directed Mr. Winters to me? Somehow I doubted that, but what if it were true? Perhaps I shouldn't act so hastily. It wouldn't hurt to talk to Sarah.

  "Well, I can't promise you anything, but I'll talk to your daughter. If she can convince me she's innocent then I might consider taking the case, if you'll let Snake be second chair."

  "Snake?"

  "Yeah, that's Harry's nickname, Harry Hertel. Some guys at the DA's office started calling him Snake and after awhile the name stuck. I've never actually seen him try a case but from what I understand, he's the best."

  "Okay, that's fine. Can you come up right away? The cops have been trying to get in to question Sarah all day. So far the doctor has protected her but I'm afraid tomorrow she'll have to talk to them."

  "What hospital is she in?"

  "Bright Methodist—in Sherman."

  "Just tell her not to say anything to the police. She doesn't have to talk to them. I'll try to get up there tomorrow."

  "Oh, thank you, Mr. Turner. You don't know how much better I feel. I just know you're the right attorney for Sarah."

  "Well, I haven't taken the case yet, but even if I do; it sounds like we've got one hell of a battle on our hands."

  "I know, but I still feel better."

  "You won't feel so good when we start talking about fees."

  "What do you think it will cost me?"

  "You'd be extremely lucky to walk away for $25,000. It'll probably cost more than that. How much more depends on how complicated it gets and I have no way of predicting that."

  "Jesus, that much," Tom said.

  "Yes, I'm afraid so. Your daughter is in very serious trouble and if she's innocent we've got to do everything possible to prove it. Justice doesn't come cheap."

  "I don't know exactly where I'll get that kind of money, but somehow I'll raise it. Don't you worry."

  "Well think about it. She could get a court appointed attorney for nothing probably, since she’s in school."

  "I don't want that. I'll get the money."

  "All right, I'll drive up tomorrow afternoon and meet you at the hospital around three."

  I hung up the phone, looked at Rebekah and said, "Did you hear that?"

  "Well, I heard something about a baby being killed," Rebekah said.

  "Yeah, this guy's daughter is suspected of killing her baby."

  "Oh my God! Are you going to defend her?"

  "Well, I don't know yet."

  "What if she did it?"

  "What if she didn't do it?"

  "I don't know. I don't like the idea of you representing a murderer."

  "Wait a minute, what happened to the presumption of innocence?" I said. "This is America, remember?"

  "I know, but she probably did it. Who else would do it?"

  "I'm usually pretty good at reading people, so hopefully after I meet her I'll be able to tell if she's telling the truth or not."

  "I don't know, honey, what if you’re wrong? Can you imagine what people will think of you if it turns out she did it?"

  "I don’t care what people think. Anyway, I may not take the case. Who knows?"

  The next morning I went to work at six since I was going to be in court all morning and had to go to Sherman in the afternoon. There were some things I had to handle that I felt just couldn't wait until the following day. When Jodie arrived fifteen minutes late, she was shocked to see me already hard at work.

  "Good morning," Jodie said. "I’m sorry I'm late but Rodney was almost out of gas. We had to stop off at the filling station."

  "Oh, no big deal. So how is Rodney these days?"

  "A pain in the ass as usual.”

  “Typical male, huh?”

    Jodie shook her head in disgust. “He just makes me so mad sometimes. I wish he'd grow up and act like a man instead of a teenager."

  "He is a teenager," I noted.

  "I know, but—"

  "If you don't get along you should dump him? You're an attractive girl. I am sure you could find someone more mature without much trouble."

  "Probably, but I've got this problem."

  "What's that?'

  "I love him."

  "Oh, well then, I guess you better see if you can work out your problems."

  "We'll work them out. We always do," Jodie said. "So what are you doing here so early?"

  "I've got a nine o'clock hearing. Then I've got to go to Sherman this afternoon to talk to a client. So I thought I better get started early this morning."

  "What hearing? There's nothing on your calendar."

  "A delivery came in just after you left last night."

  "Oh, you're kidding?"

  "No, I wish I were."

  "Do you need me to do anything for the hearing?"

  "No, I stayed late last night to prepare for it. Rebekah wasn't too happy but I didn't have much choice."

  "So why do you have to go to Sherman?"

  "To talk to a potential client—a young girl who is about to be charged with murdering her baby."

  "What?!"

  "They found the baby in a dumpster a mile or so from her apartment."

  "Oh my God. Why didn't she just get an abortion?"

  "I don't know, but that's a good question. I'll ask her that this afternoon."

  "Do you need some coffee?"

  "Yes, I could use a cup. Thank you."

  Jodie nodded and left the room. She was only nineteen years old and I had taken a chance in hiring her without any experience. After practicing law a year without a secretary I finally decided to take the plunge and hire one. Unfortunately experienced legal secretaries were demanding far more than I could afford to pay so I decided to look for talent and potential rather than experience. Jodie was smart, ambitious and wanted someday to be a paralegal. She had a great attitude and didn't cringe at the meager salary I was offering. She had turned out to be an excellent secretary and I felt fortunate to have her around. She soon returned with the coffee and sat down.

  "How are you going to defend her?"

  "Defend who?"

  "The baby killer."

  "Oh, Sarah Winters."

  "Is that her name?"

  "Yeah, I don't know yet. I’m not sure I’ll even take the case. I've got to find out more about what happened before I decide. If I do take it, I thought I'd get Snake to help me."

  “Snake?”

  “Harry Hertel, my criminal law professor. I’ve told you about him.”

  She nodded. "Right. Why do you need him?"

  "Just an insurance policy in case I get over my head."

  "You've never worked with him before, have you?"

  "No, not really," I said.

  "I don't know if I would want to work with a guy named Snake."

  "That's a good point, but as long as he's on my side it should be okay."

  "Man who plays with snakes may get bit," Jodie said.

  I laughed. "Where did you hear that?"

  "I think it was from a fortune cookie I got one time."

  I shook my head. "Oh well, thank you for that little bit of wisdom. I'll be careful."

  "Have you called him yet?"

  Before I could answer her, the phone rang. Jodie picked it up and had a brief conversation with the caller.

  "That was Rebekah. She said you needed to turn on Channel 12. There's a report on your client about to come on."

  "A possible client,” I said. “Let's go to the conference room and see what Channel 12 has to say about Sarah.” Once in the conference room, Jodie turned on the television set and we waited for the commercial to end.

  "This is Beverly Blake with a special Channel 12 Report. Every day we read about atrocities that are occurring all over the globe. Whether it's terrorism in the middle east, religious warfare in Ireland, mass murders in Cambodia or guerilla warfare in Latin America we are often outraged by
the heinous acts that are committed by our fellow human beings in distant lands. Well tonight I'm sad to report that right here in Sherman, Texas we have our own local atrocities.

  "Police early this morning found a newborn girl in a grocery store dumpster and the charred remains of a second child in a shallow grave near Baker Road in southeast Sherman. The first baby girl was wrapped in a plastic garbage bag and discarded with common trash. The killer of the other infant apparently tried unsuccessfully to burn the child to get rid of its remains but ended up burying it in a wooded area. The body was found when local dogs were attracted to the scent of the decaying body. There is no apparent connection between the murders other than the common motive behind them– the resolution of an untimely pregnancy.

  "The alleged mother of the first child, Sarah Winters, claims she has no memory of the delivery. Doctors at Bright Methodist Hospital, who examined Miss Winters early this morning, advised the media today that she had definitely delivered a child within the last 24 hours. Blood tests have been ordered to determine if Sarah Winters is indeed the mother of the child. Doctors at the hospital say that the baby girl was born premature and weighed only about three pounds. They estimate that the mother was about eight months along when she delivered the baby Tuesday night.

  "Lt. Bernie Meadows of the Sherman Police, when asked if Sarah Winters was a suspect in the killing, stated that she headed the list of several suspects. He would not comment on when an arrest would be made or if he the DA was planning to take the case to the Grand Jury.

  "Police have no suspects in the death of the second baby but are hopeful they will get some clues when the autopsy is finished later today. Anyone who might have seen anything unusual in the last twenty-four hours in the Baker Street area are urged to contact police.

  "Lt. Meadows told me privately that he was appalled by these ruthless murders. He vowed not to rest until the killers have been brought to justice.

  "We'll have more on these two investigations on the noon news later today. For Channel 12 News this is Beverly Blake reporting."

  Jodie shut off the TV and looked at me. She shuddered. "I can't believe somebody tried to incinerate their child."

  "I'm sure glad I'm not defending that mother," I said.

  "I can't believe you're considering defending Sarah Winters. Don't you think she must be guilty?"

  "Well, she doesn't remember anything. That's not good."

  "How could she not remember anything?" Jodie asked.

  "Post traumatic amnesia. It's not unusual at all."

  Jodie shook her head. "Still, who else could have done it?”

  "Well, I don't know but the story said there were other suspects, right?"

  "Right. I wonder why she didn't call an ambulance and go to the hospital."

  "I don't know. She was hiding her pregnancy from her parents apparently. I'm sure that was part of the problem. She hadn't seen a doctor so she may not have known the symptoms of labor."

  "I don’t buy that," Jodie said.

  "I know, but there must be some explanation. I doubt Sarah's a complete idiot. She must have had a plan to deal with the situation. I just hope she'll tell me what it was."

  That afternoon I drove up Highway 75 to Sherman. At the information desk at Bright Methodist Hospital I said, "I'm here to see Sarah Winters, I'm supposed to meet with her and her father, Tom Winters."

  "Oh yes, he's in the waiting room. Just go down the hall. It’s the last door on the right."

  I went down the hall and entered the waiting room. A tall, dark headed man got up immediately and extended his hand.

  "You must be Stan Turner."

  "Yes, and you must be Tom Winters."

  "Right, I want to thank you for driving up here to see Sarah."

  "No problem."

  Tom pointed to Joyce and said, "This is my wife, Joyce, and Sarah's stepmother."

  "Nice to meet you. How is Sarah doing today?" I asked.

  "She seems fine, however, she won't talk about the baby. She still doesn't remember anything."

  "Have the police tried to talk to her?"

  "Yes, and we did what you said. We told them she wouldn't talk to them without her attorney present."

  "Good, can I go see her now?"

  "Yes, I told her you would be in to see her at 1:30," Tom said.

  "Okay, I'm ready."

  Stan, Joyce and Tom got up and walked down the hallway to Sarah's room. They knocked on the door several times. Getting no response, they entered. Sarah was staring out the window.

  "Sarah," Tom said. "Stan Turner, the attorney I told you about, is here to see you."

  Sarah looked over at me without changing her somber expression. She had a pretty face with dark brown cautious eyes. Her dirty blond hair had lost most of its curl and a lock hung down partially covering one eye. Her face was a little pudgy like you often see with pregnant women and her stomach was still swollen from the recent childbirth.

  "Hi, Miss Winters. How are you feeling?" I asked.

  Sarah replied, "Okay."

  "I understand you've had a tough couple of days. I'm very sorry to hear about your baby.”

  She turned toward the window and began to stare again.

  "I know it must be very difficult to talk about this, but it's important that I know everything that happened the other night. The District Attorney may try to bring charges against you because of the death of your child. If he does, I need to know what happened so I can defend you.”

  Sarah continued to stare out the window showing no emotion. I looked at Tom and Joyce and said, "Why don't you let Sarah and I talk alone. Whatever she tells me is protected by the attorney-client privilege but if you're there it might be waived."

  "Sure," Tom said. "Come on Joyce, let's go back to the waiting room."

  After Tom and Joyce were gone, I tried again to strike up a conversation.

  "So what's your major here as ASU?"

  Sarah turned and looked at me intently. Then she scanned the room. I guess she wanted to be sure no one was listening.

  "Journalism."

  "Oh really, that sounds pretty interesting," I said. "Do you want to be a reporter?"

  "I'd like to get into television. I'm not sure in what capacity exactly, but I think that would be a good career."

  "How did you get interested in television?"

  "My dad took me to the NBC studios in LA one time. It was really a cool place. We got to watch several shows being taped. Ever since that time I've wanted to go into television."

  "I see. Well, the way the television industry is growing you shouldn't have any problem finding a job."

  "I hope not."

  "I understand you have a boyfriend?"

  "Yes, Greg Peterson. He lives in Richardson."

  "How did you and Greg meet?"

  "Mutual friends introduced us."

  "Oh, I see. Are you serious?"

  "We like each other a lot."

  "It must be tough with Greg in Richardson and you up here in Sherman."

  "Uh huh, but we call each other almost every day. On the weekend Greg usually comes up and stays with me in my apartment."

  "You understand that everything you tell me is confidential, don't you?"

  "Uh huh."

  "I know you'd rather not talk about it, but I've got to find out what happened Tuesday night. Can we talk about that?"

  "You can't tell anyone what I tell you, right, not even my dad and stepmother?"

  "No, everything you tell me is strictly confidential."

  "Well, I don't remember very much, I wish I did. I'll tell you what I do remember, but I don't think it will help."

  "That's okay, just tell me what you know."

  "Where should I start?"

  "Your Dad tells me you didn't tell them you were pregnant. Is that true?"

  "Yes."

  "Why didn't you want them to know?"

  She sighed. "My stepmother would have gone ballistic. I just didn't want to deal w
ith that. I thought I'd have the baby and then give it up for adoption without anyone knowing that I had even been pregnant."

  "That would have been a little difficult to pull off, don't you think? Don't your parents come to visit you?"

  "No, they're too busy with Nathan."

  "Nathan?"

  "My stepbrother. He's a big football jock at Arizona."

  "I see. What about your mother? Do you ever see her?"

  "My Mom died when I was a baby. I've had three stepmothers since then and none of them have cared much about me."

  Sarah’s motherless life brought back the haunting memory of Rebekah’s arrest and how close my own children came to losing their mother. "I’m sorry. . . . How did you find out you were pregnant?"

  "I felt the baby kicking."

  "You didn't go to a doctor?"

  "My Dad is a Christian Scientist now. He doesn't believe in doctors. I'm not allowed to go to them, or learn about health or anything."

  I shook my head. "Are you serious?"

  "Yes, in high school whenever the class studied health all the Christian Scientists were excused."

  "How long have you and Greg been together?"

  "Four months now."

  "The doctors say you were eight months pregnant when the baby was born. Did you know that?"

  "No, I wasn't sure when it was due."

  "What were you planning to do when the baby came?" I asked.

  "Deliver it myself."

  "You're kidding?"

  "No, women have been doing that for centuries. I have a book."

  "You were going to do it by yourself?"

  "Greg was gonna help."

  "What happened? Why didn't you call him?"

  "I don't know. I didn't realize I was in labor. It was too early."

  "But you said you didn’t know when it was due?”

  “Well, not exactly, but I had an idea.”

  I wondered if Sarah was telling me the truth. Her story seemed a little rehearsed. “So what happened?"

  "I was feeling horrible. I thought I had eaten something bad. After Michelle left I went to sleep and that's all I remember."

  "You don't remember the delivery?"

  "No. I was sick, . . . but that's all I remember."

  "So if you knew Greg for only four months he couldn't be the father, right?"

  "Right."

  "So who do you think was the father?"

  "Ricky, I guess."

  "Who is Ricky?"

  "Richard Stein, he was my boyfriend before Greg."

  "Is he the only other man you've had sex with during the last year?"

  Sarah thought a moment."Uh huh."

  "You’re sure?" I said.

  "Yes, that's all."

  By this time an unsettled feeling had come over me. I had so many tough questions to ask Sarah but I knew if I wasn't very delicate and tactful she'd clam up on me.

  "What made you end your relationship with Ricky?"

  "He was into drugs and had a hot temper. One night he was stoned and beat me up."

  "Is that right?”

  "Uh huh."

  "I don't suppose you reported it to the police, did you?"

  "No. I didn't want anyone to know."

  "Did you ever do drugs?"

  "Once or twice, but nothing heavy."

  "When's the last time you've been on any drugs?"

  "I haven't taken any since Ricky left. I wouldn't know where to get them."

  "Does Greg do drugs?"

  "No, he's straight as an arrow. He even goes to church."

  "You know, not too many people are going to believe that you can't remember delivering your baby. You understand it's kind of hard to swallow."

  Sarah began to choke up. "I'm telling the truth. I don't remember anything! I wish I could remember something, believe me. Michelle shouldn't have taken me to the hospital, damn her! This whole thing has been a nightmare."

  Sarah began to cry harder. I looked around awkwardly and then went over to her and put my arm around her.

  "Okay, okay. Calm down. I don't think you killed her. I'm not sure why, but I believe you."

  "I'm telling the truth, Mr. Turner. I don't remember anything."

  "Okay, Don't worry, we'll get you through this somehow. I don't know how exactly, but we'll figure something out. Just don't cry. It will be all right."

  Sarah looked up, then she put her arms around me and wept on my shoulder. After she had regained her composure I left and went back to the waiting room. Tom was sitting on the sofa waiting anxiously. Joyce was on the telephone talking to someone.

  "Stan, how did it go?" Tom asked.

  "Okay, I guess. She says she’s sticking to her story that she doesn't remember anything. After talking with her I don't feel like she's the type who would murder her own child. But, I don't know. Just conveniently forgetting what happened is not going to hold water very long. If she does remember but doesn't want to admit it, we're going to have a tough time defending her. She's going to have to level with me. I need to know the truth. If she really doesn't remember, then we may never know what happened."

  "She would never kill her own child. She's a wonderful girl, Stan. You've got to believe me," Tom said.

  "Did she tell you why she didn't tell us she was pregnant?" Joyce asked.

  "I can't really go into anything she said."

  "I understand. Will you take the case?" Tom asked.

  I hesitated and then replied. "Well, I do believe she's innocent. I don't have any evidence to prove it, but my gut feeling tells me she is." I looked at Joyce and continued, "Judging from the look on your wife's face, you and I may be the only two people in North Texas who feel that way. Despite what the law says, there's going to be a presumption of guilt here, Mr. Winters. I'm sorry to tell you, but that's the way it's going to be."

  "You didn't answer my question. Will you take the case?"

  I hesitated again wanting so desperately to say no, no way would I touch this case. The words, however, wouldn't come out. I kept seeing Sarah's sad, desperate face. How could I refuse her pleas for help? A motherless child with a drunk of a father, how she had made it to college was a miracle in itself. She deserved a break.

  "I suppose I will, I guess, if you still want me to after what I've told you. I hope she's telling the truth, though." God, I hope she's telling the truth!

  "I understand you don't have a lot of experience, but you believe Sarah's innocent and that's what's important," Tom said.

  "How much will it cost?" Joyce asked.

  "A lot," I replied as I began to contemplate what kind of retainer I would need. With Snake involved I knew I'd have to get a substantial retainer or he wouldn't want to get involved. "This is going to be a pretty complicated case and there are a lot of unanswered questions. I'll only take on the case if you all are prepared to do whatever it takes to win. I hate to lose."

  "That's what we want," Tom said.

  "Good then you'll need to come by my office tomorrow to sign a fee agreement and bring me a $10,000 retainer."

  "You need $10,000 tomorrow?" Tom gasped.

  "Yes, because it's easy to say you're committed to the cost of the lawsuit, but I can't pay my bills with commitment, my creditors only take cash."

  "Okay, I'll see what I can do," Tom said.

  "Good, I'll see you tomorrow then."

  "Right."

  I got up and walked out of the waiting room. As I started down the long corridor I realized I hadn't given Tom my card so he'd know where my office was located. Quickly I did an about face and walked back to the waiting room. As I approached, I heard voices arguing so I stopped at the door not wanting to intrude. I couldn't help but overhear the heated discussion.

  "Where do you think you're going to find $10,000?" Joyce said. "We can't afford that kind of money to defend Sarah. Just let the state appoint her an attorney. We don't have any obligation to pay for one."

  "No, the Lord led me to Mr. Turner for a reason. I
know he's the right man to protect Sarah."

  "I’m sure the attorneys in the public defender's office are quite competent. It's just plain stupid for us to spend our life savings and maybe go into debt to hire an attorney when Sarah could get one free."

  "I'm not arguing with you," Tom said. “I'm hiring Stan Turner whether you like it or not. Somehow we'll find the money to pay him. I'll go to the bank tomorrow and get a loan. We've just got to know the truth. God will help us through this somehow."

  "This is so stupid. We could spend $50,000 on this trial. We’re already paying a mint for Sarah to go to college."

  "Okay, just shut up! Shut the hell up! I don't want to talk about it anymore. If it was Nate facing a murder charge, you wouldn't mind coughing up fifty grand."

  "That's different," Joyce replied.

  Tom looked at Joyce. "How is it different?"

  "Nate’s got a future. He's going to the NFL. Someday he'll be a superstar."

  "So, Sarah might end up being the damn President."

  "Yeah right, Sarah has always been a loser, I mean she's got to be pretty damn sick to kill her own baby!"

  Tom glared at Joyce. His face began to turn red with rage. "If you had been a decent mother, you'd of taught her a few things about sex and being a woman so this wouldn't have happened!"

  "Oh. Don't you dare blame this on me!" Joyce said as she began to cry.

  Joyce and Tom's argument was becoming so loud the charge nurse had taken notice and was walking toward the waiting room. I decided it was time to make my exit. Jodie could call Tom and give him the office address in the morning.

  A sudden rush of guilt overcame me as I walked down the corridor contemplating the argument I had inadvertently overheard. Ten thousand dollars was a lot of money and I knew from experience how difficult it was to fund a murder defense. Perhaps I shouldn't have insisted on such a big retainer. I knew if Snake hadn't of been involved I would have settled for a lot less. Sure, that would have been risky but I wouldn't have felt so much like a vulture feeding on my clients misfortune.