“I’d like to thank y’all for coming in today. You’re probably wondering why we’re here, since we don’t have any outstanding motions.”
Nobody said anything. Not a surprise, I hadn’t asked them to speak.
I went on. “The case ofState v. Bria Gainesis on my jury docket,but we don’t have a firm date for trial, not at this time. Which isn’t unusual. Felony cases of this magnitude tend to languish for a long time before being tried before a jury.”
Reeves shrugged. Meyers nodded an acknowledgment. No response from Dr. Gaines.
“It happens, though, that I’m looking at an opening on my trial docket. A case was set for jury trial—a personal injury case, multiple parties. That big explosion on the highway. Y’all surely recall when that happened.”
Ben Meyers had caught on. He was whispering to Bria.
“The parties have recently informed me—they’ve reached an agreement on settlement. Which frees up two whole weeks on my calendar.”
I tapped my keyboard, pulled up my court calendar. There it was: a two-week stretch of blank space. No case numbers, case names, notations of matters to be heard and decided. By me.
“So! You know what I’m about to ask.”
Reeves jumped to his feet. “The State is always ready, Your Honor!”
Irritation buzzed in my ears. “Excuse me?”
“We’re ready for trial at any time.”
I snapped. “What are you doing out of that chair?”
He sidestepped, like he had more to say. “I just want to reassure the court that the State can be ready to go whenever the court wishes.”
If I were inclined to ask the Lord for favors, I would have sent up a prayer to grant me patience. “Mr. Reeves, I wasn’t asking you. I know the State can be ready for trial. Because you have all the power of the government on your side. You have county law enforcement ready to offer whatever assistance you desire. And in this particular case, you have even more power. You got the wholedamn state tied up in this case. We’ve got the Alabama attorney general’s office and the governor of Alabama popping up in the Bullock County Courthouse like a Whac-a-Mole game. Governor is saying—again—that the National Guard is on its way.”
Reeves sat.Good.
I turned to the defense table. Ben Meyers had scooted his chair right next to Bria Gaines’s. They sat elbow to elbow. She was wide-eyed. Like she was afraid she’d be the next one in line for a tongue-lashing.
“I need to hear from the defense. The defendant has a constitutional right to a speedy trial. We all know that, right? But I was a defense attorney back in the day. And I know that the defense sometimes prefers delay. Particularly when the defendant is out on bond.”
There are a number of advantages to delay, from the defense perspective. Delay can weaken the State’s case. Over time, witnesses’ recollection may fade. Witnesses might move away, become unavailable to appear at trial. Sometimes the prosecutor’s interest in or appetite for the case will fade.
If Ben Meyers wanted more time for Bria, he’d get it. But I needed to see her face. If the waiting was going to destroy her, I had to fight that.
It was a tough call for them to make. Was it more brutal, more painful to proceed? Or to wait around?
Meyers spoke softly to her. I didn’t try to eavesdrop. Seemed like she trusted him. I saw her nod a couple of times. She whispered something in his ear.
At length, Meyers stood and said, “The defense has no objection to the trial setting.”
I had to be certain.
“Dr. Gaines?”
She looked up, startled. She hadn’t expected me to address her directly.
“Your Honor?”
“This setting’s just two weeks off. It’s unexpected, I know that. You’re comfortable with it? You sure?”
I saw her neck move when she swallowed. But her voice was stronger when she answered.
“Yes, Your Honor. I’m ready to have my case heard. I want to take it to a jury.”
