“Son of a bitch.” Sheriff Owens was out of his chair, looking like he’d be lighting a protester on fire.
Otis pointed toward the window. His face was as red as the flaming flag. “Sheriff, you get out there and put this down! I want that man and woman arrested.”
I had to throw cold water on that plan. “Hold on, guys. There’s legal precedent for this. The US Supreme Court ruled in 1989.Texas v. Johnson.What they’re doing is constitutionally protected. First Amendment, it’s political speech.”
The commissioners weren’t persuaded. I appealed to the DA. “Mr. Reeves, am I correct?”
The DA nodded. Looking sulky, like a kid.
Outside, someone on the street was taking issue. Which wasn’t a shocker. Not everyone is familiar with the court’s decision inTexas v. Johnson.The shouting started up. Someone tried to grab the flag away from the guy with the bullhorn—and he used the bullhorn as a club to nail the interloper in the face. Then the fighting started in earnest.
I grimaced. “Hitting people, now that’s not covered by the First Amendment.”
I turned away from the window, shaking my head. I hated the sight of more violence in the streets of my town. But it certainly reaffirmed my position.
“Damn good thing I’m keeping that jury safely tucked away next week.”
Heading out the door, I could feel the burden of that criminal case bearing down. Like the trial, and everything connected to it, wanted to steal my strength away.
CHAPTER
53
STONE FAMILY FARM BULLOCK COUNTY, ALABAMA
Sitting across from me at the kitchen table, my friend Loucilla Payne studied me. Like she was drilling deep inside my head, determined to read my mind.
“Mary, it’s weighing you down. Like you’re carrying the weight of the world.”
It was Friday evening, and Loucilla and I were having our monthly get-together. But there was no way I could escape to Montgomery for dinner. Thank God, Loucilla had come to me.
I pushed away from the table. Picked up the glass pitcher of iced tea as a pretext. Filled glasses that were still three-quarters full. I knew Loucilla would break through, crack open my secrets if she had the chance.
I said, “It’s been hanging over me all this time. I knew the day was coming. Hell, it was my idea to move ahead. I gave them the early trial date. We start picking the jury Monday. Just three more days to wait.”
I set the pitcher down. Stepped over to the sink, washed my hands. Just had to keep moving.
Behind me, Loucilla’s voice cut through the sound of running water. “Mary, you’re all wound up. Why are you acting like this? Honey, you’re not the one who’s going to be on trial.”
I shut off the water. Dried my hands. A truth was burning in my chest, trying to push its way out.
Loucilla was still trying to reason with me. “You’re not the criminal defendant. You’re not the State’s witness. Mary, you’ve tried all kinds of cases over the years, presided as judge over murders and sex crimes. This case is big, it’s generated lots of attention. But you’re experienced. It shouldn’t be shaking you up this way. It’s getting under your skin.”
I tossed the cotton dish towel onto the counter. She’d nailed it, described just how it felt. The facts of the case were under my skin like a bad case of scabies. Burrowing under the surface, laying eggs, making me itch like crazy.
I dragged my chair right next to hers. I didn’t want the table to create distance between us. It was likely that I’d need to cry on her shoulder.
“It’s strange that I’ve never told you this before. I know I can confide in you. Tell you anything.”
Loucilla’s face tensed, like she expected a blow. “Mary. What is it?”
I meant to tell her. And then my throat closed up. I couldn’t answer right away. Had to rub the front of my neck before I could speak again.
“I was fifteen. End of my sophomore year of high school.”
She saw where it was going. “Oh, no.”
The sensation in my throat increased; it felt like hands wrapped around it, choking me. Maybe that was a sign. That I should keep my secret to myself. Keep it locked up.
