“Who’s assigned to docket number,” he lifted the file and read out, “CR26246014-01.”
She shuffled through the paperwork on her clipboard. “That would be William Ferris. Part of his voluntary pro bono time.”
The judge’s bushy eyebrows rose. “Well, well, today is your lucky day, Ms. Hastings, to be represented by the illustrious firm of Ferris, Ferris & Ferris.”
Someone ran up and whispered in Gail’s ear, handing her a torn scrap of paper. She raised her hand to get the judge’s attention. “Your Honor, there’s been a change. It looks like the court-appointed attorney assigned to Ms. Hastings is?—”
Her shoulders hunched and she let out an exasperated sigh. My gaze shifted from the clerk to the judge. What was that sigh supposed to mean?
Gail continued. “Barry Finkle.” She spat out the name.
The judge rolled his eyes.
I stared at him, speechless.
This couldn’t be happening.
The judge stood up and called out, “Barry Finkle. Where is Barry Finkle?”
“Here! I’m here, Your Honor,” came a disembodied voice through the crowd.
I rose on my tiptoes but couldn’t see who had spoken.
Finally, a short, shabby-looking man shouldered his way through the crowd.
I stared as he lifted his arm to signal to the judge, sending a cascade of files, crumpled papers, and a squashed peanut butter and jelly sandwich in a plastic bag tumbling to the courtroom floor.
Everyone who saw it snickered and pointed.
My cheeks flamed, but he seemed unfazed.
Kneeling on the dirty, scratched linoleum courtroom floor, he called out, “Barry Finkle for the defense, Your Honor.”
He dumped the pile of scattered papers and smooshed sandwich on the table in front of me, then held out his hand. “Ms. Hastings, my name is Barry Finkle, and I will be representing you in this matter.”
I awkwardly lifted my handcuffed wrists to shake his hand, grimacing when he squeezed my fingers too tight in his sweaty grasp.
The judge cleared his throat. “Mr. Finkle, if you are ready to proceed.”
Barry adjusted his coffee-stained tie. “Could I request another reading of the charges, Your Honor?”
I closed my eyes. It had been hard enough hearing it once.
The judge motioned to Gail who called out a second time, “Docket Number CR26246014-01, the People of the State of Virginia versus Madison Hastings. Charge is murder in the first degree, murder in the second degree, and vehicular involuntary manslaughter.”
Barry’s eyes widened. “Murder!”
I swung my head in his direction.
He slapped his hand over his mouth. “Sorry.”
He then turned to me and, loudly enough for everyone around us to hear, stage-whispered, “You’re charged with murder?”
My brow furrowed. “As my assigned attorney, aren’t you supposed to already know that?”
He waved his hand between us. “Sorry. Sorry. I just got excited. This is my first murder case.”
I blinked several times as my fingernails carved crescents into my palms.
