“What's up with you?” Erma asked when Sandra opened her mouth to speak.
“BJ,” Sandra said, “you didn't tell me how Rufina got burned.”
BJ's forehead crinkled, and she stood. “What's that got to do with anything? It was a long time ago.”
“The district attorney, a man named Sam Holt, is saying Rufina killed Katy Jo in retaliation for setting the fire.”
“Oh, shit.” Erma craned her neck to watch the two women's faces. She stood and stretched, so she could be in on the conversation.
“So they—whoever they are—are saying she wanted revenge? Oh, my God.” BJ's voice echoed.
“Keep your voice down,” Sandra whispered. “See that ruddy-looking fellow in the gray wool suit? That's the DA, Holt, a real sexist pig.”
“You know him?” Erma asked BJ, thinking it might help if BJ spoke to the man.
BJ shook her head. “I think he lives in Kerrville. He's got all four counties in the district to take care of.”
“Yeah.” Rex leaned about as far forward as anyone could over the back of the bench seat in front of him. “He lives in Kerrville.”
BJ shot Rex a look that said you-keep-out-of-this and turned her back on him.
“Shit,” Erma said again. “What a mess.”
Sandra whispered, “BJ, he's going to charge her with capital murder.”
“Murder plus retaliation?” Erma closed her eyes and shook her head.
“Equals cap murder.” Sandra tapped her pen on the bar that separated them.
Tears overflowed BJ's eyes. “My poor friend.” She sank down on the bench.
The side door to the courtroom opened, and Rufina entered, hands cuffed in front of her. A deputy sheriff with a shotgun and a string of male prisoners followed Rufina into the room. Dressed in identical shapeless blue jumpsuits and shackled together by chains on their ankles, they shuffled forward. A second deputy, his hand resting on the butt of his unstrapped, holstered pistol, brought up the rear. They hadn't linked Rufina's chains to the men’s. With her facial scarring and still wearing the over-sized drab blue jumpsuit, she was pitiful. Large slides engulfed her tiny feet. She lifted her hands in acknowledgment. A wan smile passed over her face like a shadow.
“Just look at the guns those deputies have. They don't mess around in this part of the country,” Erma said.
After the inmates sat in the jury box, Rufina glanced their way again. BJ dug in her purse and brought out some tissues, which she used to mop her eyes. Erma wrapped an arm around BJ's shoulders. She held back her own tears. She didn't know what the hell had come over her in the last few days, tearing up several times like she had. “Try to hold yourself together.”
Sandra spoke to the nearest deputy. A moment later, she rounded the jury box and whispered behind her hand to Rufina for several minutes. Rufina's eyes darted from Sandra to BJ and Erma and back again. Erma thought she would die if she didn't find out what they were talking about. She wanted to ignore courtroom decorum and run across the room, but BJ needed her to stay by her side. Rufina's head bobbed up and down in response to something. She took Sandra's hand between her own cuffed ones and smiled up into her face.
Erma said, “Whatever Sandra just said must be good. Rufina smiled.”
Sandra remained by Rufina's side until the judge returned.
“Are there any other civil matters ready before I call the criminal docket?” the judge asked.
An old bald man stood. “I have another divorce case.”
The young woman, Mrs. Keller, who had left the courtroom to call her lawyer, sat on the back row. She raised her hand.
“Y'all come forward.”
The judge conferred with both people for a few moments. The old lawyer beckoned to someone in the audience. Mrs. Keller, whose face had turned a dark pink, stepped aside. A short, gray-haired woman went up front where she and the old bald man began her divorce proceedings.
Erma sighed. Behind her hand she whispered to BJ. “This is the worst goddamned part of going to court, waiting for other cases to get over.”
BJ nodded. Erma clasped her hand.
After the judge granted the divorce and the lawyer and his client departed, Mrs. Keller stepped up. She raised her hand for the oath. He began asking her questions. Did she have a copy of her petition? Did she bring a document to read from to prove up her divorce? He handed the court's file to her and crossed his arms, leaning back in the huge, brown, cracked-leather chair. With shaking hands, the woman thumbed through the pages and glanced at the door as if she expected the cavalry to arrive. Finally, she began reading but not from the correct paper. The judge never said a word. Erma had an inclination to help the girl and rose to her feet, prepared to approach the bench, when Sandra sprang out of her chair.
“Your Honor, I could speed things up if you'll allow me to assist the petitioner.” Sandra gave the lawyers at the other table a withering glance.
“Certainly, Mrs. Salinsky.”
“That's my girl,” Erma muttered. “She may not always show it, but she's got a heart in her chest someplace.”
Sandra took the file from the woman and directed her to sit in the witness box. “Let the record show that respondent signed a waiver, which was filed on or about October fifteenth.”
Sandra ran through the formalities and proved up the case in a matter of minutes. She conferred with the young woman, went back to her briefcase and retrieved a card, which she handed to her, and gave the file back to the judge.
“You may step down, Mrs. Keller,” the judge said. “Tell your lawyer to bring in your decree by Friday.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you,” Mrs. Keller replied.
The judge pronounced the divorce, and the young woman left the courtroom. He handed the file to the clerk and took up the criminal docket. Sandra twisted in her chair and shook her head at Erma, who wasn't sure what Sandra meant by that. The deputies unlocked the chains around the defendants' ankles. The judge began calling names from a list. The prisoner would climb out of the jury box to stand before the bench with his lawyer. The judge would recite a litany of legalese. If there wasn't an attorney representing the defendant, the judge would go through a routine of appointing an attorney.
When he came to the end of the men, he called Rufina's name. Erma elbowed BJ.
The deputy took Rufina by the arm and escorted her to stand in front of the judge. The man Sandra had pointed out as the DA stood. “State's ready.”
Sandra positioned herself between Sam Holt and Rufina. “Sandra Salinsky for Mrs. Barboza, Your Honor.”
Erma whispered to BJ, “Rufina resembles a Lilliputian next to Sandra, especially with Sandra wearing those three-inch heels.”
The judge said, “Mrs. Barboza, the State of Texas has charged you with murder. How do you plead to that, guilty or not guilty?”
Before Rufina could speak, Holt said, “Judge, if I may, we're re-indicting her for capital murder.”
“By that you mean—”
“Your Honor, right now my client is only indicted for murder.” Sandra's voice echoed throughout the bare-walled courtroom. “She's entitled to be arraigned on that charge.”
Holt stepped toward the bench. “Your Honor, we have new evidence that we're taking before the Grand Jury this week. I'd like to postpone the arraignment until the indictment is handed down.”
Erma could tell from Sandra's stiff posture and clenched fists that her temper was barely in check.
Rex leaned forward again and whispered in Erma's ear. “She's really pissed, huh?”
BJ shushed him and waved him back.
Not to be outdone, Sandra took a giant step forward. “Your Honor, she's not indicted on capital murder yet. We're ready to enter a plea.”
The judge turned to Holt. “When do you think the Grand Jury will have the new indictment, Mr. Holt?”
“Any day, Judge. Perhaps even today.” He rocked on the balls of his feet and clicked his ballpoint pen.
“Judge?” Sandra
flexed her hands by her side. “We still stand ready to enter our plea.”
The judge glanced from Sandra to Holt. “You can't know for sure what the Grand Jury will do, Mr. Holt.”
“No, Your Honor. But my case is straightforward. The defendant shot a young girl to death out of revenge.”
“Your Honor,” Sandra said. “Are we litigating this case today? Is this Mr. Holt's opening statement? I was under the impression we were here for the arraignment.”
Erma cringed. No judge liked to hear that tone in an attorney. She hoped Sandra wouldn't piss off the judge before things barely got started.
“I can do without your sarcasm, Mrs. Salinsky.”
“Sorry, Judge. We'd like to enter a plea and get bail set.”
“I understand. How do you plead, Mrs. Barboza, to murder?”
Rufina glanced up at Sandra who nodded. “Not guilty, sir.”
“Your Honor, the State requests no bail be set for fear this woman will flee to Mexico.” Holt wore a smug expression.
“Judge, my client has lived in Gillespie County all her life. She's not going anywhere. She's entitled to a fair bail. Also, could you set the trial date today?”
BJ drew a sharp breath and grabbed Erma's arm. Erma sprang up and sat back down. Had Sandra really asked the judge to set the case for trial? What the hell had gotten into her? When had she changed her mind?
“Shit,” Rex spit out and slammed his hand on the wooden frame.
The judge's face screwed up, and he shook his head in Rex's direction.
Feeling like she'd been shot with adrenaline, Erma scooted past BJ, pushed through the swinging door that divided the courtroom, and hurried to Sandra's side.
The judge's face turned sour. “Who are you?”
“She's my co-counsel in this case, Judge Jefferson.” Sandra rested her hand on Erma's shoulder. “Erma Townley. She'll be second chair at the trial.”
Erma took a deep breath and puffed out her chest. When the DA leaned forward to get a glimpse of her, she cocked an eyebrow at him. She wanted to slap his smirk to the wall but would settle for one of her darkest looks, usually reserved for hostile witnesses.
“Well, I'm not prepared to set this case. You have to go through the court administrator in Kerrville. The clerk will give you ladies that number. Get yourselves a copy of the local rules while you're here.”
Holt cleared his throat and spread his feet apart like a soldier at ease. “Judge, we can be ready quickly on this one. Just need the new indictment—”
“Mr. Holt, you know how things work around here. Don't do any grandstanding for my benefit.”
“What about bail, Judge Jefferson?” Sandra asked.
“We oppose it, Judge,” Holt said.
The judge shook his head and huffed out a breath. “I'm assigned here all week.” He thumbed through several sheets of paper stapled together. “We'll have a hearing at nine a.m. tomorrow morning.”
“What about today, Your Honor?” Sandra asked. “Could you squeeze it in this afternoon after lunch?”
“Tomorrow at nine or call the administrator. Which would you prefer, Mrs. Salinsky?”
Erma tapped her lips. Sandra would bust a gusset if she didn't calm down. Erma put a hand on the small of Sandra's back. “Thank you, Judge. We'll be back tomorrow morning.”
Sandra glared at her, but Erma turned on her heel and winked at BJ. She didn't know what had gotten into Sandra, but she loved it. Now they could go back to the ranch and celebrate at least a small win. The first major hurdle of the case was over. Sandra was in, and that was all that mattered for now.
Chapter Six
Sandra crossed the hall to the District Clerk's Office, Erma close on her heels. Two ladies glanced at them from their desks. One of them stood, an apple-cheeked brunette. “May I help you?”
“We've been hired to defend a murder case and wanted to meet y'all while we're here today,” Erma said, barely able to rest her arms on the tall counter.
“Excuse us a moment.” Sandra tugged on Erma's arm and led her out into the hall far from anyone who might overhear them.
“What? What?” Erma asked, jerking her arm away.
Sandra's stomach hadn't settled down from the churning she'd felt in the courtroom. She held a ballpoint in her hand and clicked it like Holt had done and stared down at her mother. “Let's agree on one thing. I'm lead counsel. You're second chair.”
Erma sucked in air like she was drawing on a cigarette. “Did I do something to upset you?” She sank her hands into her pockets and did a little sidestep.
“You know what you're doing. Are we in agreement or not?” Sandra expelled a ragged breath. She needed some time alone.
Erma shrugged. “Yes. You're first chair. What's the big deal if I do the talking sometimes?”
“Sometimes it isn't. In this instance, though, I want people to understand I'm lead counsel.” Sandra dropped her shoulders. Fatigue replaced her anger. She needed some time to digest everything that had taken place that morning. “Here's what we can do. We'll go back and meet those ladies, then you can return to the ranch with BJ. I'll hang around town so I can have some time by myself.” She clicked the pen some more, waiting for a reply.
“Whatever you say, Mrs. Salinsky.” A devilish gleam danced in Erma's eyes. “You're the boss.”
Sandra did an eye roll. Erma never quit. “Please don't give me a hard time. We definitely need some space.” She strode back into the District Clerk's Office. Erma followed, her shoes slapping on the floor. The same apple-cheeked brunette came up to the counter.
“I'm Sandra Salinsky from Galveston. I want to apologize. Already been a long day, and it's not noon yet.” Sandra stuck out her hand. “This is my law partner, Erma Townley.”
“I'm Annie Gretsky, Chief Deputy District Clerk.” She shook Sandra's hand first, then Erma's. “The clerk's in with the judge. Her name's Bonnie Miller.”
The other woman in the office approached them. “Velma Schultz. Y'all are from Galveston? An aunt and uncle of mine live down there.”
In her experience, Sandra had found in small towns, some folks were wary of strangers while others were often chatty. “I wonder if we might know them. By the way, we're handling the Schindler murder case.”
“Oh.” Annie nodded, deadpan.
Sandra looked from Annie to Velma. They probably already knew that. Probably everyone in the courthouse knew exactly who they were.
Erma said, “Y'all know my good friend, BJ Schindler?”
“I knew Commissioner Schindler,” Annie said.
“Roy. He was a doll,” Erma said.
They chatted for a few minutes before Annie said, “What can we help you with this morning?”
Sandra looked at Erma who said, “I'll be moseying on back inside the courtroom. See you later, Sandra. Enjoyed meeting you ladies.”
Sandra touched Erma's shoulder. “I'll grab my coat when I'm through here. Y'all eat lunch without me. Think I'll nose around the shops afterward, might even stay for dinner.”
Erma said, “Okey-dokey.”
“Annie, is the file on Rufina Barboza fully set up yet?” Sandra rubbed her tight neck muscles. She could use a massage, but that would have to wait until they returned home.
“About to finish with it.”
“May I have a copy of the indictment and y'all's local rules? I was also wondering if you would point me in the direction of the law library.” The two women exchanged glances. Velma left the counter. Annie said, “The judge has some law books across the hall.”
“I saw a few in his chambers on a shelf behind that little desk. Does he use another office when he's here?”
“No, ma'am. What you saw is it. Pitiful, huh?” Her eyes crinkled in a smile. “The commissioners, they hate to spend money on the courts.” Annie glanced back at Velma. “Even Commissioner Schindler.”
Velma said, “There's a room—almost a closet—behind the judge's chambers that has some other books in it. What were you
looking for?”
“Black Statutes?” What Sandra truly wanted was to check out the courthouse setup for when they returned. She was beginning to realize there was no place in a law library for them to utilize during trial, for breaks or otherwise. “What about an attorneys' conference room?” Lack of a conference area would pose a problem. She wanted to see what else the county had to offer in the way of amenities for lawyers, if anything. Annie shook her head. “No to the conference room, but there is a set of Black Statutes. Want me to ask him if you can have access to them after the Grand Jury leaves?” She leaned toward Sandra.
Was she kidding? “The Grand Jury meets in the judge's chambers?”
“It's not really his chambers, though there's a connecting door.”
“I'm not sure I understand.” The Gillespie County Courthouse seemed to shrink by the minute. “Out of curiosity, where does the regular jury deliberate?”
Annie rubbed a knuckle across her lips. “Same room?”
“So what if the Grand Jury is meeting when a jury is deliberating?”
Velma, who was dealing with papers on her desk, said, “That can cause a problem sometimes.”
“And the judge can't check the law then either,” Sandra said.
Annie shook her head. “I guess not.”
“He's online with Westlaw though, right?” Did they have the Internet?
“I'm not aware of what he does or what the visiting judges do. Bonnie would know.” Her eyes went to Velma again. “Maybe wait for them to take a break?”
“Now that I think of it, I remember hearing our judge discussing how much Westlaw cost with one of the County Commissioners,” Velma said.
“So the Internet's available here in the courthouse, right? I could do my own research? What about Wi-Fi?”
“Oh, sure. We got the Internet a long time ago.” Annie smiled with pride. “And Wi-Fi. I can give you access if you want.”
“Not today, but I'll want it when we're in trial.” What would she do then? Erma had steadfastly refused to learn how to use the Internet.
“Here's a copy of the indictment and the rules for you, Mrs. Salinsky.” Velma handed her the paper. “I'm going to lunch now, Annie.”
Death of a Rancher's Daughter Page 5