“All right, then. Mr. Reeves, Mr. Meyers, we’ll conduct a pretrial conference the week before jury selection. My clerk will be in contact with y’all, to nail down the exact time for that.”
I stood. They stood.
“Court is adjourned.”
As I left the courtroom, the voice in my head was loud.
Sure as hell hope this isn’t a horrible mistake.
PART
THREE
CHAPTER
51
Bria Gaines
VICTORY BAPTIST CHURCH UNION SPRINGS, ALABAMA
It was Sunday morning, just eight days before her trial would begin at the Bullock County Courthouse. And Dr. Bria Gaines was late for church.
The timing was intentional. Bria had been a member of Victory Baptist since she’d moved to Union Springs. She’d joined the church straightaway; it was how she was raised, in a family of serious, Bible-thumping Christians.
The congregation had embraced her, back when she joined. They’d praised God for bringing her to town. Flocked to her clinic for medical care.
After the felony charge was filed against her, Bria stopped attending services. She stayed away for a number of reasons, any one of which provided sufficient cause. Fear of rejection, ostracism,the cold shoulder. Or the opposite: She dreaded a verbal confrontation. Accusations, insults. The very real possibility that her church family might kick her out of the fold, excommunicating her from their community of faith.
The prospect of those reactions had been sufficient to discourage her from crossing the threshold. But when she got out of bed on that particular Sunday, with her trial a week away, Bria decided that she needed to return. Her soul felt battered, weary, restless. She longed for the feeling of peace she’d always received when sitting in the wooden pew with her head bowed.
In eight days, when jury selection began, Bria would need courage and strength. The kind of fortitude that only a higher power could provide.
Give it up to the Lord,her heart told her.
She could hear the congregation singing as she left her car and walked up to the front entrance. Bria had missed the call to worship and the responsive scripture reading. They’d moved on to the first hymn: “How Righteous Is Our God.”
The timing of her arrival was perfect. Everyone was on their feet. Singing, hands raised. Some with eyes shut, moving with the spirit. She couldn’t have picked a better moment to slip in unnoticed.
Or so she thought.
Bria intended to take a seat in the back. Wasn’t easy, not that Sunday. The church was packed. Reverend Erskine generally commanded good attendance, but this was a record-setting crowd. Like Easter morning, they’d placed folding chairs at the end of each row, to provide additional seating.
While the churchgoers sang the final verse of the hymn, Bria managed to find a single bare space in the pew, a spot just large enough for her to slide in. That inconspicuous spot in the back wasa blessing. She hadn’t come to church to be recognized. She wasn’t seeking fellowship. She was looking for God.
She wanted to pray. To petition the Lord to give her the strength to withstand the rigors of the trial that she would have to endure in the coming days.
As she slid into the back row, the organ music hit the final notes:Amen.
Everyone took their seats. Reverend Erskine had taken his place at the pulpit. He stood there, a forbidding figure in black and white.
His solemn face broke into a beaming smile. “On this beautiful Sabbath morning, brothers and sisters, let’s turn to welcome one another, for the passing of the peace.”
The sound of pews creaking, bodies moving. A babel of voices rose up as members leaned over for hugs and handshakes, exchanging friendly greetings.
Bria Gaines was seated directly beside a young couple with two children between them. The younger child bounced in his seat, exclaiming, “Mama! It’s Dr. Bria!”
That sweet voice made Bria smile. “Good morning,” she said to him. She turned to the boy’s mother, seated close beside her, and whispered, “A pleasure to see y’all this morning.”
