“Objection!” It was Robert Reeves. The DA looked nervous. “Irrelevant, immaterial.”
“Your Honor,” Meyers said, “I may be from Georgia, but I’m licensed to practice law in Alabama. And I know that under Alabama rules of evidence, cross-examination is wide open if it pertains to a material issue. The circumstances regarding Miss Jones’s pregnancy are material in this case.”
I didn’t want the child to be publicly humiliated. But Bria Gaines’s lawyer was entitled to raise issues that supported her defense. “I’ll allow it.”
There was some commotion, movement in the back of the courtroom. I tapped my gavel for silence.
Ben Meyers kept a reasonable distance from the stand. Didn’t hound the witness, just asked a direct question. “Do you know who got you pregnant?”
Nova looked out over the courtroom. She squeezed her eyes shut. “No, I don’t. Not for sure.”
The air in the courtroom shifted, changed. Became charged with tension so thick, it felt like it could deliver an electric shock. I was afraid to make a sudden move. That I might disrupt something dangerous in the atmosphere.
We were waiting for the next question. I wasn’t sure what Benjamin Meyers would ask. But Nova Jones stole the thunder from her own examination.
“It could behim!” she shouted. “He was there! He raped me!”
Nova lifted her arm and pointed out into the courtroom. Just like the prosecution had made her point the finger of guilt at Dr. Gaines.
There was a scuffle in one of the back rows. I stood, gripping my gavel. A boy wearing a high school fleece shirt was trying to flee the gallery. A couple of citizens grabbed his arms and were doing their damnedest to hold him back.
“Ross!” I shouted. My bailiff ran to the door, locking it tight.
I banged my gavel down. “This court is now in recess!”
I dropped the gavel onto the bench, pulled the cell phone from the pocket of my robe. Just had to hit one name in my contacts.
When I say I have Sheriff Owens on speed dial, I’m not kidding around. I have that man’s personal cell number.
CHAPTER
68
I cleared the courtroom again. Sent the jury out. The bailiff held the kid in the back row while we waited for Mick. It only took two minutes for him to show up with one of his deputies and take the kid into custody.
Now Nova was sitting at a side table with Betty Cooper, the longtime social worker for Bullock County. I could see Starla Jones, Nova’s mother, outside the courtroom, peering through the glass. Looking frazzled.
She’d missed the fireworks. Reeves had named Starla as a witness, so she couldn’t sit in court during trial. Under Alabama Rule 615, I always order witnesses to be excluded from watching the trial. It’s a clean way to ensure that testimony won’t be influenced by other witnesses.
Then she walked in.
If I’d ever been inclined to pray, I’d be doing it right then. Praying that Nova’s mama had her head on straight. That she would worry about her daughter’s welfare, rather than making herself the victim. Because that can happen. I’ve seen it, in my career.
Starla walked over and put her arms around her daughter, and Isaw her whisper in Nova’s ear. Nova looked okay, considering the magnitude of the disclosure. She could overcome this, but she’d need a lot of support. I hoped she’d get it.
I rose and stepped down off the bench, eager to get into my chambers. I wanted to collapse in that chair, get ahold of myself.
Nova’s revelation had gutted me. My heart bled for the child, what she’d suffered. And her testimony also stirred those old, wicked memories from my youth. When I was just a couple of years older than Nova was now. That rape, it changed the course of my life.
I hadn’t even had the chance to hang up my robe when knocking started sounding at the door.
The Kleenex box sat at the corner of my desk. “Just a second.” I pulled out a couple of tissues, wiped my eyes. Took a glance in the mirror to see how I was holding up. I didn’t want anyone to see me break down. I figured it was just Luna, but still. People think I’m a stoic. I like to maintain that reputation.
I pulled the door open. Observed three lawyers standing on the other side. And they’d brought the court reporter along.Good Lord!No rest for the wicked, I guess.
The DA was scowling. “We have to talk, Judge.”
“Do we? Now?” He and his co-counsel nodded. Lindquist wore an expression almost as sour as her co-counsel’s.
