The bailiff jumped. “I don’t know, Your Honor.”
“Well, find out! These conditions are inhumane.”
I wasn’t about to disagree.
Bailiff Spencer whispered in the ear of a nearby deputy, who hurried from the room.
“We’ll do what we can to keep this trial movin’,” the judge said. “Call the first witness!”
Mr. Deveraux frowned then stood. “The state calls Detective Kurt Taylor.”
The back doors to the courtroom opened and the detective who’d been certain I killed my mother walked down the aisle. A chill traveled down my spine at the sight of him, and I reminded myself that I wasn’t on trial and had nothing to worry about. After Detective Taylor was sworn in, he settled in the witness stand. Mr. Deveraux paced in front of the bench as he asked questions. I swear that man didn’t know how to stay still.
“What did you find when you arrived at the crime scene on April 19th?”
Detective Taylor cleared his throat. “I arrived at the crime scene at 11:41 p.m. and found the rear emergency exit standing open. Upon entry, I discovered the victim, later identified as Frank Mitchell, near the door to the office, lying on the floor in a pool of blood, a concave wound on his right temple.”
“And did you find the murder weapon on the premises?”
“We did not.”
Mr. Deveraux turned to the judge. “Your Honor, the state would like to present evidence A-1, a photo of the victim at the crime scene.”
Cat Lady on my left, also known as Mrs. Baker, stopped fanning herself with her paper accordion, her eyes wide in anticipation.
A picture of the victim appeared on a wall screen. He lay on the concrete floor in a dark puddle, surrounded by pieces of PVC joints and tubes. His eyes were open, staring at nothing, his mouth twisted in an odd shape.
An image of Momma on our old sofa filled my head. She sat in the dark, a goose-egg-sized dent in her head, and blood splattered on the walls and furniture. I wondered how right Mr. Yates had been that I would find the evidence in the trial upsetting. But I caught him watching me, and I stiffened my back even though I felt like I was gonna barf. I was consoled to see that half the jury looked like they were about to lose their lunches too.
“Did you find anything else?”
“We found an open safe, with a small amount of cash missing.”
The deputy walked in with a white box. Within seconds, the box beeped repeatedly.
“What in tarnation is that racket?” the judge growled.
Bailiff Spencer’s shoulders hunched. “It’s a thermometer, Your Honor.”
“Well? How hot is it?”
“Ninety-one degrees.”
Judge McClary swore under his breath. “Mr. Deveraux, continue on until you’re done with your questioning, and Mr. Yates,” he looked across the bench, “you can cross-examine the witness tomorrow morning. It’s too damn hot to think in here.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
Mr. Deveraux’s face had frozen in a scowl. It was a wonder his face wasn’t permanently stuck that way, seeing how he wore that scowl ninety percent of the time. “And did you discover anything else, Detective Taylor?”
“Yes, we found a small lapel pin with a dog and a bird in a tree.”
The vision I’d had in the restroom came crashing back into my memory.
Don’t you worry, Felix. They’ll never figure out who that lapel pin belonged to. How many pins got dogs on ’em with a bird and a tree?
We’re going to get away with murder.
My eyesight faded to black, but it wasn’t because I was having another vision. Mr. Decker was innocent and I’d peed next to a murderer.
Chapter Five
I woke up with Cat Lady waving her paper accordion in my face and a stench that made me gag. Just above her fan were the faces of Mr. Deveraux and Mr. Yates. While Mr. Deveraux looked concerned, Mr. Yates looked angry. I’d done it now.
I realized my head was in the lap of the man on my right, explaining the terrible odor. I jerked upright.
“Careful, now.” Mr. Deveraux reached over the wall in front of the juror box, his hand resting on my arm as I swayed.
“I’m okay.” I insisted, smoothing back my hair.
“See, Your Honor?” Mr. Yates screeched, pointing at me. “I told you she couldn’t handle being on the jury.”
“Oh, for God sakes, Yates,” Mr. Deveraux boomed. “I was questioning the witness about a pin.” He turned to me with a glare, his eyes daring me to contradict him. “Did all that talk about pins frighten you into a faint, Miss Gardner?”
In that moment, I realized a couple of things. One, Mr. Deveraux had put himself on the line by getting me on the jury, although for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why. And two, Mr. Deveraux knew my name. “No, of course not. Don’t be silly.” I swayed for effect, flapping the front of my blouse. “I got too hot, is all.”
“That’s it!” Judge McClary shouted, banging his gavel with more force than necessary. “I can’t have jurors droppin’ like flies. Court is adjourned for the day!”
Voices buzzed throughout the room and Mr. Yates wandered back to his table, but Mr. Deveraux watched me for a moment, his face expressionless, before he turned away.
After we got back to the juror room, Marjorie Grace pounced on me like a cat on a ball of yarn. “Are you all right, Rose?”
I waved my hand, thoroughly embarrassed. “Yeah, I’m fine. It was just so hot in there.”
“Thank God you passed out,” Cat Lady said, fanning herself, although her paper was now limp and damp. “I was dyin’.”
“I can’t believe they expect us to sit in there,” another woman said.
Marjorie Grace pushed me into a chair and placed a wet paper towel on my forehead.
I looked up into her warm eyes. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to cause a fuss.”
She leaned forward with a smile. “Don’t you be worryin’ about it.”
“But Mr. Yates was so angry and Mr. Deveraux…” Mason Van de Camp Deveraux III confused me. One minute he was meaner than a coon dog attacking a copperhead, and the next he actually looked worried about me. I still couldn’t get over the fact that he’d wanted me on the jury. He’d probably had to fight to get me since Mr. Yates was so adamant that I recuse myself. Maybe that was the answer right there. Mr. Deveraux could have done it just to tick off Mr. Yates.
“Both of those cranky butts will get over it. Word has it Judge McClary was about to pass out himself.”
Marjorie Grace told everyone to report at nine o’clock the next morning but held me behind. “Are you sure you’re okay? Was it just the heat?”
I knew what she was asking, and if I hadn’t gotten squeamish looking at the photo of the dead man, I might have been insulted. Still, I couldn’t tell her I’d seen a vision in the men’s restroom, confirming my suspicion Bruce Wayne Decker was an innocent man after all. What would Mr. Yates think of that? But more importantly, who was the man outside my bathroom stall and how was it that Mr. Decker had been arrested instead?
I shook my head. “I’m fine, Marjorie Grace. I think it was a combination of the heat and the toxic cat food fumes comin’ from Mrs. Baker.”
Marjorie Grace laughed. “That’d do it right there.”
I grabbed my purse and stood. “I’m gonna go home to my air conditioned house and take a long cold shower and a nap.”
“Take it easy tonight.”
I wasn’t looking forward to the walk to my car, but it wasn’t much hotter outside than in.
When I pulled onto my street, I saw a U-Haul parked in front of Joe’s old house. I gasped. No matter how much I’d prepared myself, I still wasn’t ready for the final evidence that Joe was really gone.
Don’t be silly. He sleeps in your house, which is better than sleeping next door any day.
Yet I couldn’t swallow the lump in my throat as I pulled into the driveway. Three little boys played in the front yard, running around two men
who were carrying a dresser from the truck.
“Heidi Joy!” one of the men shouted. “Come get these kids!”
A young woman appeared in the doorway with a baby on her hip and a toddler clinging to her leg. “Andy, I’m trying to unpack the house!”
“We’re gonna be short a kid or two if we drop this damned dresser on ’em.”
“Boys! Go in the backyard. Now!” the woman shouted.
The boys continued to run in circles, ignoring her.
Heidi Joy stepped on the porch. “Don’t be makin’ me get the wooden spoon!” She turned my direction and her eyes flew open in horror.
I waved, then pointed to my house with my thumb. “Hi, I’m Rose and I live next door.”
She hobbled down the steps, the toddler still clinging to her leg. “Benny, you’re gonna have to let go.” The little boy dropped his grip and wailed.
Heidi Joy sighed in exasperation and grabbed his hand, tugging him to the yard. “Hi,” she said when she reached me. “I’m Heidi Joy Blankenship, and that’s my husband Andy.”
One of men nodded.
“And these are my boys.” The kids crowded around her, curious. The baby on her hip grabbed a handful of Heidi Joy’s long black hair and stuffed it in his mouth. Heidi Joy didn’t seem to notice.
“Hi,” I waved again.
A wide-eyed boy who looked like he was four or five peeked between Heidi Joy’s legs. “Do you have any kids?”
“What? No. No kids.”
The boys groaned in disappointment.
“But I have a dog, Muffy, who desperately needs to come out. Hold on just a second.” I unlocked my door and opened the bathroom door. Muffy made a beeline for the ajar kitchen door and squatted next to a bush at the corner of the house.
“Eww!” the boys shrieked. One of them wandered over and peered down at the pile, grinning. He petted the top of Muffy’s head. “What’s his name?”
“He’s a she and her name is Muffy.”
“She’s ugly,” the boy peeking through Heidi Joy’s legs said.
His mother reached behind her and swatted the top of his head. “Keith! Don’t be sayin’ things like that! Tell the nice lady you’re sorry.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
Muffy was kind of ugly, but that didn’t mean other people could say so. “I’ll have you know that Muffy is an intelligent dog and understands more than most people give her credit for. You might have hurt her feelings.”
The little boy bit his lip, remorse in his eyes.
“I’m so sorry!” Heidi Joy gushed. “They’re completely out of control today. Although it doesn’t seem like it, they’re good boys. They won’t be causin’ you any trouble.”
“That’s okay.” I smiled. “I have a niece and a nephew so I know all about kids.”
“Are you married?”
“Me? No.” Why did that question always catch me off guard now? “I have a boyfriend. In fact, he used to live in your house until he moved back to Little Rock.”
“If he’s your boyfriend, how come he moved away from you?” the oldest boy asked, scrunching up his nose.
“Andy Junior!” Heidi Joy grabbed his arm and jerked him toward her.
“Well, his job here was temporary and when it was done, he had to go back. He comes down on the weekends.”
Heidi Joy covered her chest with her hand. “So you met him while he was living here? That’s so romantic.” The baby stared at me, a handful of hair still in his mouth. Drool dripped off his chin.
“What’s his job?” Andy Jr. asked.
“He works for the state police.”
“He’s a cop?”
“Yeah.” The chaos of the little boys was getting to me, not to mention the heat. And talking about Joe reminded me how desperately I needed to get his advice on how to handle the Bruce Wayne Decker situation. I couldn’t sit around and let an innocent man go to prison, but I also couldn’t see Mr. Deveraux dropping all the charges. Somehow I didn’t think he’d appreciate the significance of my vision in the men’s restroom. “I should probably take Muffy inside now. It’s awfully hot today. I can’t even imagine moving in this heat. Can I get you anything? Some tea?”
“Thank you, but we’re good. It was nice meeting you and I hope I see you again.” Heidi Joy said, her eyes widening in desperation.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be around.”
I cajoled Muffy inside even though she wasn’t done sniffing the boys. Once I got her in, I dug my cell phone out of my purse. She looked up at me with a pout.
“I’m sorry! But I really need to call Joe.”
Muffy laid on the floor and set her chin on her paws with her you always say that look. Okay, so maybe I did, but this time was really important.
Joe’s phone rang until it went to voice mail. I almost left him a desperate-sounding message, but I worried that he’d drive down to check on me instead of just calling back. He was already in enough trouble with his job. Instead, I tried to make it light. “Hi, Joe. The good news is I got out of work all day at the courthouse.” Tears burned my eyes. I really needed to talk to him. “The bad news is I miss you.” My voice broke. “Call me.”
After I took a shower, I laid on the sofa to watch TV, hoping to take my mind off of Bruce Wayne Decker. I pictured him sitting in his empty concrete cell on a cot, a toilet in the corner. It hit me that it could have been me there if I hadn’t proved my own innocence in Momma’s murder. I could be sitting in jail right now waiting to go to trial so Mason Deveraux could prosecute me in front of a jury of my peers while William Yates defended me.
Who was going to prove Mr. Decker’s innocence?
I checked my phone for the twentieth time, wondering if I’d somehow missed Joe’s call. Sitting around my house moping wasn’t doing any good, so I decided to go to Violet’s house early.
The new neighbors were still moving in furniture when I pulled out of the driveway with Muffy. I had no idea how they planned to get all that furniture and those kids into such a tiny house, not that it was any of my business. I’d let Mildred worry about it.
My niece, Ashley, met me at the door with squeals of delight. “Muffy!”
“Hey,” I protested, watching her and Muffy race for the back door. “What happened to the days of you shouting Aunt Rose?”
“That was before you agreed to share your dog with her.” Violet called from the kitchen. I found her wearing a pink ruffled apron with “Happiness is Homemade” embroidered across the top. She was making a salad while Mikey sat on the floor eating cheese crackers from a small plastic bowl.
I opened the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of sweet tea.
Violet focused on chopping carrots. “How was your day?”
It was a trick question. If she’d heard about my courthouse drama, she’d want details. If she hadn’t, she’d be angry I hadn’t told her. I decided to test the waters. “I got picked for jury duty.”
Her head popped up and her eyes focused on me. “I didn’t know you had jury duty.”
I shrugged and grabbed a tomato. “I plumb forgot about it until Joe found my jury notice this morning.” I pulled a knife from her drawer and sliced the tomato in half on a cutting board. “Did you know you can get arrested for not showing up for jury duty?”
A frown puckered Violet’s mouth. “Joe was at the house this morning?” Her tone was accusatory.
I sighed. While this particular conversation was new, it was really a rehash of several previous arguments. “Yes, Joe was there, seeing how he spent the weekend with me, which you knew since we saw you at the park on Saturday and we were together.”
If possible, her lips pinched even tighter.
I stopped cutting and glared. “We’re not having this conversation again, Violet.”
Violet’s husband, Mike, walked in from the garage and ducked his head. “Don’t mind me. I’m heading back to change clothes.” He shot past us and down the hall.
Violet peered around the corner, her sc
owl deepening. “For heaven’s sakes, don’t come out in clean clothes, stinkin’ to high heaven. Take a shower, Mike!”
The shower water turned on down the hall.
Violet whacked the poor carrots with her knife as though she was beheading them. “Fine by me, Rose Anne Gardner, I’ll do all the talkin’ because I’ve already heard everything you’ve had to say.”
“And I could say the same, Vi.”
She blew a strand of hair out of her face, rolling her eyes. “Rose, Joe is your first boyfriend.”
“Yes, Violet, seeing how I don’t suffer from either short-term nor long-term memory loss, I’m very well aware that I never had a boyfriend until I was twenty-four.”
“Which means you’re inexperienced.”
Looking up, I grinned. “Not anymore.”
“Rose Anne Gardner!”
I crossed my arms. “Well you were the one who suggested a couple of months ago that I sleep with someone.”
“And I also said you shouldn’t sleep with just anyone. You need to find a boy with a nice solid family.”
“You don’t know anything about Joe’s family.”
She pointed her knife at me. “No, and neither do you, or you didn’t at least last time I heard. Has that changed?” Tilting her head, she waited with a smirk.
Her question sobered me. “No.” Joe refused to say much about his family other than he had a sister in Little Rock and his parents lived in El Dorado. In fact, he hardly said anything about his life before me. “Besides, what does it matter what his family’s like? I’m datin’ Joe, not his family.”
“A man’s family becomes important when you get married.”
“Nobody said anything about getting married.” I hadn’t let my mind wander that far into the future. I didn’t want to jinx us.
Violet’s face softened. “Look, Rose. Joe’s the first man you’ve dated. You’re young. Have some fun.”
“But Mike was the first boy you ever dated and look at you now.”
The shower water turned off. Violet stared at me for several moments before she put her knife down and opened the back door. “Ashley, come inside and wash your hands for dinner.” She picked Mikey up from the floor and set him in the high chair. Pausing, she looked around the kitchen, then turned to me, a sadness creeping into her eyes. “Give yourself a chance to explore your choices, Rose. Just don’t settle, okay?”
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