Twenty-Nine and a Half Reasons
Page 13

The rest of our lunch period I told her about Momma’s murder and my Wish List and how Joe helped me with it even though he thought I might be the extortionist. And I told her about Daniel Crocker and the flash drive. I even told her about Hilary, Joe’s old girlfriend, and how she worked for the State Police with Joe and how I couldn’t help being jealous of her.
“Why would you be jealous?” Neely Kate asked, licking chocolate pudding off her spoon with big sweeps of her tongue. I suspected Neely Kate did everything in an exaggerated manner.
“Well…” I hated to admit such ugly feelings. What possessed me to confess it? No wonder Neely Kate knew so much. She had a way of making people forget themselves and say whatever popped into their head. “She’s really pretty for one thing. And obviously smart.”
“You’re pretty. And you must be smart to not only put Mason Deveraux III in his place today but Mr. Yates too.” She shook her head in amazement. “You keep it up, Rose Gardner, and you’ll be a local legend.”
My face heated.
She laughed. “I don’t know why you’re so worried. If your Joe wanted to be with Hilary, he’d be with her, not you.”
“But they have history.”
Patting my hand, she laughed again. “So do you! How many couples bust up a crime ring?”
I smiled as my chest burned with gratitude until I felt the first signs of a vision. Oh no. I walked into an office and a man shouted, “Where have you been, Neely Kate? You’re ten minutes late!”
“You’re gonna get in trouble for getting back to work late,” I blurted as the vision faded.
Neely Kate giggled. “Everybody knows that! I get in trouble every day.” She pulled out a rhinestone-covered wallet and put her money on the table. “Since this case went to trial, it’s bound to last all week. You want to have lunch together tomorrow?”
I nodded, grateful she hadn’t flipped out over my vision. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Yay!” she squealed, jumping out of her seat. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Rose.”
She flew out of the cafe, people parting to let her through like she was a movie star. Neely Kate was a force to be reckoned with.
To be on the safe side, I arrived in the jury room ten minutes early. Marjorie Grace sat at her desk, touching up her lipstick while looking into a compact. She glanced over with a smile.
I handed her the tube of super glue. “Thank you for this. I think I officially had the worst morning ever.”
She laughed and tucked her lipstick into her purse. “I heard about your encounter with Mr. Deveraux in the hallway.”
The blood rushed to my cheeks. “How does everyone know about that?”
“Maria from janitorial services was in the women’s restroom and heard it all.”
So much for Neely Kate’s superpowers.
“No wonder you were surprised you got picked for jury duty.”
“Did you also hear about my encounter with Mr. Yates?”
Her mouth gaped.
I guessed not and filled her in. When I finished, she burst out laughing, tears streaming from her eyes. “What I wouldn’t give to have seen that! That man is a pain in the ass.” She clapped a hand over her mouth with a laugh and looked around to see who had heard. Only a few other jurors were in the room and they huddled around the oscillating fan in the corner. Marjorie Grace lowered her voice and winked. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”
I held up my hands in surrender. “I didn’t hear anything.”
“Good girl.” She lowered her head. “He hates his job and was close to retiring until he found out he wasn’t going to get his pension.”
“Why not?”
“He’s a public defender and works for the county. He doesn’t get paid much anyway, but when he found out he lost his retirement money…Let’s just say he’s not been very happy.”
Fifteen minutes later, we filed into the courtroom, the heat so intense I felt like I was either Shadrach, Meshach, or Abednego headed into the fiery furnace. Only I suspected that an angel of God wasn’t going to swoop in and save me. The windows were tilted open, not that it did much good. And while several fans had been set up around the room, the courtroom was too big for them to do anything other than stir up the hot air and make the room more like a convection oven.
Mr. Deveraux and his assistant had removed their jackets and loosened their ties, as had Mr. Decker and his attorney. Judge McClary’s face was red, his round body covered in his black robes. I worried he was about to have a heat stroke.
After the judge banged the court back in session, he tossed the gavel across his desk. “As if it were even possible, this room is hotter than before lunch. How hot is it in here, Spencer? What’s the temperature?”
The bailiff jumped. “I don’t know, Your Honor.”
“Well, find out! These conditions are inhumane.”
I wasn’t about to disagree.
Bailiff Spencer whispered in the ear of a nearby deputy, who hurried from the room.
“We’ll do what we can to keep this trial movin’,” the judge said. “Call the first witness!”
Mr. Deveraux frowned then stood. “The state calls Detective Kurt Taylor.”
The back doors to the courtroom opened and the detective who’d been certain I killed my mother walked down the aisle. A chill traveled down my spine at the sight of him, and I reminded myself that I wasn’t on trial and had nothing to worry about. After Detective Taylor was sworn in, he settled in the witness stand. Mr. Deveraux paced in front of the bench as he asked questions. I swear that man didn’t know how to stay still.