had been from the ages of eleven to thirteen when his mother was in prison and he and Kiera were sent to a Baptist orphanage in Arkansas where they found structure and security. Once paroled, Josie reclaimed her children, and the family continued its chaotic journey to somewhere.
With Josie’s written consent, Portia had doggedly tracked down his school records, and Kiera’s as well, and put together their sad little biographies.
Jake, while pretending to read with a frown, was thinking of how far his client had come in the past eleven weeks. From his catatonic state in their first meetings, through his first words, his two weeks at Whitfield, his forced acceptance of solitary confinement, and the dreariness of life in a cell, to a point now where he could maintain a decent conversation and ask about his future. There was little doubt the antidepressants were working. It also helped that Mr. Zack, another jailer, liked him and spent time with him. He brought the kid chocolate brownies baked by his wife, and comic books, and he gave Drew a deck of cards and taught him gin rummy, poker, and blackjack. When things were slow, Mr. Zack went down to his little room for a hand or two. Human contact was crucial for everyone, and Mr. Zack loathed the notion of solitary confinement.
Jake was stopping by almost every day. They often played cards and talked about the weather, girls, friends, games that Drew once played. Anything but the killing and the trial.
Jake was still not ready to ask his client the most important question: “Did you know Kofer was raping Kiera?” And that was because Jake was not ready for the answer. If it was “Yes,” then revenge was in play, and revenge meant that Drew acted with forethought to protect her. Forethought equaled premeditation, and that meant the death penalty.
Perhaps he would never ask the question. He still had serious reservations about putting Drew on the stand to face a withering cross-examination by the district attorney.
As Jake watched him do the math, he could not imagine allowing the kid to be sacrificed in front of the jury. It was a decision any defense lawyer had the right to reserve until the last moment. Mississippi did not require the defense to divulge before the trial whether or not the accused would testify. Jake had hinted to Judge Noose and Lowell Dyer that Drew would not, but that was part of a ploy to force the prosecution to call Kiera as a witness. Other than her brother, she was the only possible eyewitness.
Drew said, “Here,” and handed Carla the sheet of paper. She smiled, handed him another, and said, “Okay, now try these.” It was another series of slightly more difficult sums.
As he worked, Carla graded the first set. He’d missed four out of ten. She had her work cut out for her.
* * *
—
BUFORD WAS BACK after an hour and Jake was ready to leave. He asked Drew to stand, shake hands firmly, and say goodbye. Carla was preparing a brief lesson on the Native Americans who once lived in their state.
Jake left the jail on foot and walked three blocks to the square for a meeting he wanted to avoid. He entered Security Bank, waited five minutes in the lobby, and soon saw Stan Atcavage waving him into his spacious office. They exchanged greetings like the good friends they were, but both were dreading what they were about to discuss.
“Let’s cut to the chase, Stan,” Jake finally said.
“Right, look Jake, as I’ve said before, this is not the same bank it was two years ago. Back then we were locally owned and Ed gave me plenty of wiggle room. I could do almost anything I wanted. But, as you know, Ed sold out and he’s gone now, and the new guys down in Jackson run a different show.”
“We’ve had this discussion.”
“And we’re having it again. We’ve been good friends for many years and I’d do anything within my power to help you. But I’m not calling all the shots anymore.”
“How much do they want?”
“They don’t like this loan, Jake. Lending money for litigation. They refer to it as ‘Tort Sport’ money and they said no at first. I convinced them that you knew what you’re doing and you were certain Smallwood would be a gold mine. Now that the case has blown up, they feel vindicated. They want half of the seventy thousand and they want it real