“Hey, Robert? Can you do a McDonald’s run? Just hit the drive-through.”
Nova sucked in a breath. Mr. Reeves looked busy. And he seemed like he was the boss around here. Nova expected him to come back at Miss Lindquist with a smackdown. Instead, he just pulled out his car keys. He looked at Nova.
“Nuggets and fries.”
Nova nodded.
“And maybe a Diet Coke?” said Miss Lindquist.
As Mr. Reeves walked out, Miss Lindquist called down the hallway to him. “Bring it to the war room, we’ll be in there.”
War room?Nova felt a chill run through her. “War?”
Miss Lindquist smiled. “It’s just an expression. But I’m glad you asked. Anything you want to know, anything you get confused about, any question you have, you come straight to me.”
Did she mean it? Because Novadidhave a question, one that kept her awake at night.
“Can I ask a question about Dr. Gaines?”
“Sure you can.”
“Is she gonna be okay?”
Miss Lindquist got a funny look on her face. “What do you mean, Nova?”
Nova was frozen in place, like she was short-circuiting. Staring into space. It seemed impossible to answer. WhatdidNova mean? She was searching for words but instead heard herself repeat.
“Is she gonna be okay?”
She saw Miss Lindquist’s eyes widen. “What a strange thing to ask.” Miss Lindquist searched the room, looking for an answer toNova’s question. After a moment passed, she smiled and replied, “Bria Gaines will get a fair trial.”
Nova didn’t trust Miss Lindquist, but she really,reallywanted to believe her.
She felt the strongest urge to run out of that room and straight to her pond. She needed to ask the trees and plants for guidance. If she closed her eyes real tight and listened to the wind in the leaves, she could hear their answer.
CHAPTER
31
Mary Stone
BULLOCK COUNTY COURTHOUSE UNION SPRINGS, ALABAMA
On the third Monday in September, I was struggling to get matters under control.
Monday is generally the toughest day of my workweek. Whether that holds true for every member of the bench, I can’t say. Maybe the judges who sit on appellate courts, or federal courts, or judges in courts of limited jurisdiction, like bankruptcy and probate, have a different experience. Those folks may cruise through Monday with ease. Privately, I suspect that’s possible, and I can explain the reason why. They don’t work as hard as the circuit judges who preside over state court. That’s just a fact.
Even though I didn’t have a criminal or civil jury week, just a normal Monday docket, I was scrambling. Apparently, it had been a wild weekend in Bullock County. Too many people drinking toexcess. And invariably, the intoxication resulted in ugly behavior. Which led to women showing up at the courthouse on Monday to seek protection orders under the Alabama Protection from Abuse Act.
On that particular Monday, I heard from a young woman who’d just filed for an ex parte protection order against her fiancé in the case ofKing v. Stuart.Ms. King needed that order entered, without delay. I could see that before she uttered a word. Her eye was swollen shut, and her lip was split, still oozing. She kept dabbing at it with her finger.
I had a box of tissues on the bench. When I held the box out to her, she approached the bench and pulled one out.
“Take some more,” I said. When she reached again, I handed it off. “Take the box.”
I held the form she’d filled out in the circuit clerk’s office. Walked her through it.
“Ms. King, you state on this form that you live with the defendant, LeRoy Stuart. That y’all have been living together for over a year.”
