A Time for Mercy (Jake Brigance #3) - John Grisham Page 0,67

need. Thank you for your time, ladies. Jake, we’ll be in touch. Or not. I’m sure you’ll hear from the district attorney in the near future.”

Jake stood as they left the room. He sat down when they were gone, and Portia closed the door.

Josie asked, “How’d we do?”

“You were great.”

16

The long day began at sunrise when Charles McGarry swept his headlights across the rear of his little country church. Lights were on in the kitchen and he knew that Josie and Kiera were wide awake and ready to go. He met them at the door, exchanged hurried greetings because they had hours to talk in the car, and locked the church behind them. Kiera folded her long legs into the rear of the small McGarry family car and Josie got herself situated in the front passenger seat. Charles pointed to the digital clock on the dash and said, “Six forty-six. Remember the time. It’s supposed to take three hours.”

His wife, Meg, had planned to join them, but, truthfully, the car was too small for four people sitting shoulder-to-shoulder for a long ride. And a grandmother who’d promised to babysit had fallen ill.

“Meg sent some sausage biscuits,” he said. “In that bag back there.”

“I’m gonna be sick,” Kiera said.

“She’s not feelin’ well,” Josie said.

“I’m gonna be sick, Mom,” she said again.

“Serious?” he asked.

“Pull over. Quick.” They had gone less than half a mile; the church was almost visible behind them. Charles hit the brakes and stopped on the shoulder. Josie was already opening the door and pulling her daughter out. She vomited in a ditch and retched for a few minutes while Charles watched for headlights and tried not to listen. She cried and apologized to her mother and they discussed something. Both were crying when they got back in the car, and for a long time nothing was said.

Finally, Josie offered a fake laugh and said, “She’s always had a problem with car sickness. Never seen anything like it. Kid can chuck it before I start the engine.”

“You okay back there?” Charles asked over his shoulder.

“I’m fine,” she mumbled, head back, eyes closed, arms across her stomach.

“How about some music?” he asked.

“Sure,” Josie said.

“You like gospel?”

Not really, she thought. “How about it, Kiera, you want to listen to some gospel music?”

“No.”

Charles turned on the radio and tuned in to the country station out of Clanton. They skirted around the edge of town and found the main highway south. At seven the news came on, weather first, then a report that the district attorney, Lowell Dyer, had confirmed that the Ford County grand jury would meet later in the day to work on its docket. And, yes, the murder of Officer Stuart Kofer would be discussed. Charles reached over and turned off the radio.

The car sickness struck again a few miles south of Clanton, this time on a highway busy with early morning traffic. Charles turned the car into someone’s gravel drive and Kiera jumped out, barely averting a mess. Once she was back in the car, Josie said, “It might be the smell of those biscuits. Could we put them in the trunk?”

Charles really wanted one for breakfast, but he decided not to take chances. He unbuckled, grabbed the bag off the backseat, opened the trunk, and put away their breakfast. Meg had been up at five to fry the sausage and thaw the frozen biscuits.

On the road again, Charles glanced in his mirror every minute or so. Kiera was pale and her forehead was wet. Her eyes were closed and she was trying to nap.

Josie felt the uneasiness and knew that Charles was worrying about her daughter. To change the subject she said, “We talked to Drew last night. Thanks for allowin’ us to use the church phone.”

“No problem. How’s he doing?”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to say. He’s in a better place, a small room with a cellmate, a kid who’s seventeen but a good boy, so far. And Drew says the people, the doctors, are nice and seem really concerned about him. They’ve put him on a drug, an antidepressant, and he says he’s feelin’ better. He met with two different doctors yesterday and they just asked him a bunch of questions, in general.”

“Any idea how long they’ll keep him?”

“No. That has not been discussed so far. But he’d rather stay where he is than go back to the jail in Clanton. Jake says there’s no way to get him out. Says no judge in the