She banged her gavel. Two deputies stepped forward.
“You stay away from her,” Simmons shouted. “You hear me? She doesn’t need you. She knows who you are.”
Hayden was closest to the aisle. George hadn’t picked himself up off the bench yet. But as Jamie Simmons passed by his daughter, he spit at her. In full view of the retreating jury.
Sam sprang into action. He got between Hayden and her father. The deputies jerked him forward away from her. Hayden didn’t move. She kept her back straight as they led her father out. When the door closed behind him, she finally sank next to her grandfather and wept.
38
Two hours later, I sat in Sam’s office. Numb. Spent. But Jamie Simmons was probably going to prison for the rest of his life. The not guilty verdict on aggravated murder only meant that he would not face the death penalty. He would technically be eligible for parole depending on how Judge Saul sentenced him. But he would likely never get past a parole board.
“Are you okay?” Sam asked. “You haven’t said much.”
“I don’t know how to feel. Happy? That doesn’t seem right.”
Sam came around his desk. He perched himself on the edge of it so he was right in front of me, our knees touching.
“Nobody else could have done what you did,” he said. “Not even Kenya in her prime as a litigator. This case was tough. It could have gone the other way.”
“Now you tell me that?” I said.
“Yep.” Sam leaned forward and kissed me. “I’m proud of you. I hope it’s okay for me to say that.”
“Of course. And I get it. You saw me at my worst during this thing.”
Sam smiled. “You think that was your worst? Woman, you’re nuts. Come here.”
He pulled me forward, so I stood between his knees. He was warm and strong, his arms completely enveloping me.
“It’s been a long few months,” I said. “I’m looking forward to things getting back to normal.”
My phone buzzed. I’d set it on Sam’s desk. I caught it before the thing vibrated itself off the edge.
“It’s Kenya,” I said, smiling. I showed Sam the screen.
“Great job,” she texted. “Remind me to take credit for your success when I get my old office back in January.”
“She’s really running!” Sam said. “Thank God!” Then he grew quiet.
“Mara,” he said. “You’re absolutely sure you don’t want the job?”
“Yes,” I said. There was something else between us. A question he’d almost asked me before everything blew up. I could see it in his eyes now.
“Not here,” he whispered.
I was about to tell him I wouldn’t mind. But Sam looked up. Gus stood in the doorway, looking even more grave than usual.
“Gus!” I gushed. This case had driven a wedge between us. Taken us both to the edge. I didn’t care about any of that now. I walked out of Sam’s embrace and threw my arms around Gus.
He went rigid, but didn’t pull away. “We did it,” I whispered, then kissed him on the cheek.
“Have a seat,” Sam said. “Close the door.”
Gus was like a zombie. He took a seat on the couch along the wall. Sam reached into his desk and pulled out a bottle of bourbon he secretly kept there. He was off duty now. So was Gus. So were we all.
He poured three glasses and handed one to Gus. Gus took it, but didn’t meet his eyes.
“Come on,” Sam said. “You can be satisfied now. It’s over, Gus.”
