A Time for Mercy (Jake Brigance #3) - John Grisham Page 0,150

for decades. Sympathy was an emotion he could not feel. He tried to imagine them sitting in the courtroom and absorbing blow after blow as Jake put their son on trial, but the facts could not be changed. He thought of Drew and for the thousandth time tried to define justice, but it was not within his grasp. Murder must be punished, but murder can also be justified. He engaged himself in his daily debate about putting Drew on the witness stand. To prove the crime was justified it would be necessary to hear from the defendant, to re-create the horror of the moment, to visualize for the jury the unmitigated fear in the house as his mother lay unresponsive and Kofer roamed the house looking for the kids. Jake was almost convinced that he could adequately prep his client with hours of practice before he took the stand.

He needed a long hot shower to wash away the dried sweat and soothe the aches. He went to the basement to take one without making noise. When he returned to the kitchen in his bathrobe, Carla was at the breakfast table in her pajamas, sipping coffee, and waiting. He kissed her on the cheek, told her he loved her, and sat across the table.

“Rough night?” she asked.

“I’m okay. Some bad dreams.”

“How do you feel?”

“Better than yesterday. Did you sleep well?”

“The usual. Jake, I want to go to Oxford tomorrow, a Saturday day trip, just the two of us. We can picnic with Josie and Kiera, and I want to ask them for the baby.”

It sounded odd, as if asking for a favor, for advice, for a recipe or even something more tangible like a book to borrow. Her eyes were moist and Jake looked at them for a long time. “You’ve made up your mind?”

“Yes. Have you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Jake, it’s time to make a decision because I can’t keep on like this. We either say yes or forget about it. I think about it every day, every hour, and I’m convinced it’s the right thing to do. Look down the road, one year, two years, five years, when all this is behind us, when Drew is wherever Drew will be, when the gossip has died down and people have accepted it, when this mess is over, and we’ll have a beautiful little boy that will be ours forever. Somebody gets him, Jake, and I want him to grow up in this house.”

“If we still have the house.”

“Come on. Let’s make the decision tonight.”

The decision had been made and Jake knew it.

* * *

—

6:00 A.M. SHARP, Jake walked into the Coffee Shop for the first time in weeks. Dell greeted him at the front with a sassy “Well, good morning, handsome. What have you been up to?”

Jake gave her a quick hug and nodded to the regulars. He took his old seat where Bill West was reading the Tupelo paper and drinking coffee. Bill said, “Well, well, look what the dogs drug up. Good to see you.”

“Good morning,” Jake said.

“We heard you were dead,” Bill said.

“You can’t believe anything around here. The gossip is terrible.”

Bill gawked at him and said, “Looks like your nose is a bit crooked.”

“You should’ve seen it last week.”

Dell poured him coffee and asked, “The usual?”

“Why would I change after ten years?”

“Just tryin’ to be nice.”

“Give it up. It doesn’t suit you. And tell the chef to hurry up. I’m starving.”

“You want your butt kicked again?”

“No, as a matter of fact, I do not.”

One table over, a farmer named Dunlap asked, “Say, Jake, we heard you got a good look at those boys. Any idea who it was?”

“Professionals, sent in by the CIA to silence me.”

“Seriously, Jake. Tell us who it is and I’ll send Willis here out for a little payback.”

Willis was eighty years old with one lung and one leg. “Damned right,” he said, tapping his cane. “I’ll get those bastards.”

“Watch your language,” Dell yelled from across the café as she refilled coffee.

“Thanks, fellas, but I have no idea,” Jake said.

“That ain’t what I heard,” Dunlap said.

“Well, if you heard it here it can’t be right.”

The day before, Jake had sneaked down to the café late in the day to catch up with Dell. He had talked to her twice on the phone when he was being held hostage at home by his nurse, and so he knew what his breakfast regulars were saying about him. At first they were shocked and angry, and