on either grilled chicken tenders or spaghetti and meatballs. It was not one of Jake’s favorite meals of the week, but food was not important since he got to sit with Hanna and a gaggle of her fourth-grade girlfriends. As the weeks passed, and as they grew, he was dismayed to learn that they spent more time talking about boys. He was scheming of ways to put a stop to it but so far had thought of nothing. Carla usually dropped by for a quick chat, but her sixth graders were on a different schedule.
Mandy Baker’s mother, Helen, was an occasional guest and Jake knew the family, though they would never be close. They sat across from each other on the low stools and listened with amusement as the girls all talked at once. After a few moments the girls forgot their parents were there and ramped up the chatter. When they were thoroughly preoccupied, Helen said, “I just can’t believe that about Stuart Kofer, can you?”
“Such a tragedy,” Jake said as he chewed on some chicken. Helen’s husband’s family owned a string of self-service gas stations and were rumored to be doing well. They lived at the country club and Jake avoided most of the people out there. They put on airs and enjoyed looking down and he had no patience with them.
Helen did the lunch once a month, and Jake assumed she had chosen this day to say what she was about to say. So, when she said it, he was prepared. Leaning in a bit lower, she said, “I can’t believe you would represent a killer like that, Jake. I thought you were one of us.”
Or, he thought he was prepared. The “one of us” caught him off guard and instantly brought to mind several stinging and snappy retorts that would only make things worse. He let them pass and said, “Gotta have a lawyer, Helen. You can’t put the boy in the gas chamber if he doesn’t have a lawyer. Surely you understand that.”
“Oh, I guess. But there are so many lawyers around here. Why do you have to get involved?”
“Who would you choose, Helen?”
“Oh, I don’t know. What about some of those ACLU types in Memphis or even down in Jackson. You know, the real bleeding hearts. I can’t imagine doing that for a living, representing killers and child rapists and such.”
“How often do you read the Constitution?” he asked, a bit sharper than he had intended.
“Oh, come on, Jake. Don’t give me all that legal mess.”
“No, Helen, the Constitution, as interpreted by the Supreme Court, says that a person accused of a serious crime must have a lawyer. And that’s the law of the land.”
“I suppose. I just don’t understand why you’re involved.”
Jake bit his tongue to keep from reminding her that neither she nor her husband nor anyone in their families had ever sought his advice or legal services. Why, then, was she now so concerned about his practice?
She was just a gossip who could now boast to her friends that she had bumped into Jake Brigance and dressed him down in public for representing such a despicable killer. She would no doubt expand the story, lunch on it for the next month, and gain the admiration of her friends.
Thankfully, Carla appeared and eased into the child’s chair next to Jake. She greeted Helen warmly and asked how her Aunt Euna was doing since her fall. The murder was instantly forgotten as the conversation moved to the upcoming fourth-grade talent show.
* * *
—
WITH HER JAWS wired together, Josie found it impossible to chew food, so her last lunch at the hospital was another chocolate milkshake through a straw. After which she was required to sit in a wheelchair as they rolled her out of the room and down the hallway. Eventually, she and Kiera and two orderlies exited through the front door and got into the car of Mrs. Carol Huff, who had volunteered to do the driving because she owned a four-door Pontiac. Pastor Charles McGarry and his wife, Meg, were there for the release, and they followed Mrs. Huff in their little import out of Tupelo and back to Ford County.
The Good Shepherd Bible Church had a narrow sanctuary that was pretty and timeless. Years after it was built, one of the many congregations added a two-story wing across the back, a less than handsome annex with classrooms for Sunday school upstairs and a small fellowship hall and kitchen