A Time for Mercy (Jake Brigance #3) - John Grisham Page 0,66

Rady flipped a page and read some of his notes. “Did Stu ever take Drew hunting?”

Josie shook her head. “He took him fishin’ once, but it didn’t go well.”

A long pause. No details were coming. “What happened?” Rady asked.

“Drew was usin’ one of Stu’s rods and he hooked a big fish that bit hard and ran and yanked the rod out of Drew’s hands. It was gone. Stu had been drinkin’ beers and he flew hot, hit Drew, made him cry. That was their only fishin’ trip.”

“Did he take him hunting?”

“No. You gotta understand that Stu didn’t want my kids to begin with, and the longer they stayed the more he resented them. The whole situation was slowly blowin’ up. His drinkin’, my kids, fights over money. The kids were beggin’ me to leave but we had no place to go.”

“To your knowledge, had Drew ever fired a gun before?”

She paused and caught her breath. “Yeah, one time Stu took him out behind the barn and they shot at targets. I don’t know which gun they used. Stu had a bunch of them, you know? It didn’t work out too well because Drew was afraid of guns and couldn’t hit anything and Stu laughed at him.”

“You said he hit Drew. Did that happen more than once?”

Josie glared at Rady and said, “Sir, it happened all the time. He hit all of us.”

Jake leaned forward and said, “We’re not going into the physical abuse today, guys. There was a lot of it, and we’ll detail it in our summary. It might be a factor in a trial, or it might not be. But as for now, we’re skipping it.”

Fine with Ozzie. What was offered as proof at trial was the business of the district attorney, not the sheriff. But what a messy trial it could be.

He said, “Look, since this is the first of these visits, let’s just hit the high points and move on. We’ve established that you, Josie, were unconscious when the shooting occurred. We didn’t know that, now we do, so we’re making progress. We’ll ask Kiera a few questions and that’ll be it, all right?”

“Sounds good,” Jake said.

Rady produced another sappy smile and said to Kiera, “Okay, miss, could you tell us your story? What happened that night?”

Her story was much more involved because she remembered all of it: the dread of another Saturday night, the waiting until late, the sweep of the headlights, the commotion in the kitchen, the yelling, the sound of flesh hitting flesh, the horror of hearing his stumbling boots coming up the stairs, his heaving, his slurred words, his goofy calling of her name, their jerry-rigged brace against the door, the rattling of the doorknob, the banging, the yelling, the unrestrained fear as brother and sister clung to each other; then the silence, the sounds of his retreat down the stairs; and, worst of all, nothing from their mother. They knew he had killed her. For an eternity the house was silent, and with each passing minute they knew their mother was dead. Otherwise, she would be trying to protect them.

Kiera managed to narrate the story while wiping away tears and not slowing down. She had tissues in both hands and spoke with emotion but her voice did not crack. Jake still had no plans to be anywhere near the trial of Drew Gamble, but the courtroom lawyer in him could not help but assess her as a witness. He was impressed with her toughness, her maturity, her determination. Though two years younger, she seemed to be years ahead of her brother.

But the part about her dead mother slowed her to the point of needing water. She took a drink from a bottle, wiped her cheeks, gave Rady a hard look, and continued: They found her on the kitchen floor, nonresponsive, no pulse, and they wept. Drew eventually called the dispatcher. Hours seemed to pass. He closed the bedroom door. She heard a shot.

Rady asked, “So, did you see Stu on the bed before he was shot?”

“No.”

As per Jake, answers in response to a direct question should be kept short.

“Did you see Drew with a gun?”

“No.”

“Did Drew say anything to you after you heard the shot?”

Jake was quick to interrupt. “Don’t answer that. It could be hearsay and inadmissible in court. I’m sure we’ll fight over it later, but not now.”

Ozzie had heard enough, both from the witnesses and from the lawyer. He abruptly stood and said, “That’s all we