A Time for Mercy (Jake Brigance #3) - John Grisham Page 0,79

lawyers, needed to confide in someone. Without fail, she provided a different perspective, especially when women were involved, and she never hesitated to argue a point. She would have some strong feelings about these latest developments in an already tragic story.

Crossing into Clanton and almost home, he decided he would wait a day or so, or maybe more, before he told Carla that Kiera was pregnant because she had been raped by Stuart Kofer. Just saying this to himself made his stomach churn. It was hard to imagine the raw anger that would boil in the courtroom if and when Jake detailed the sins of Stuart Kofer. A dead cop unable to defend himself.

Hanna was at a sleepover and the house was quiet. Carla was frosty because they were late, but Jake didn’t care. It was Friday night, they were meeting friends, it was a casual dinner on the patio with a keg of beer. He took off his suit and changed into jeans, then sat and waited for her at the kitchen table.

As he drove, she asked, “So where have you been?”

“The Good Shepherd Bible Church, visiting with Josie and her team out there.”

“That wasn’t planned.”

“No, it just happened. Charles McGarry came to the office at three thirty and said they needed to talk, said they were upset and needed some hand-holding. That’s part of my job.”

“You’re getting stuck with this case, aren’t you?”

“Feels like quicksand.”

“We got another phone call about an hour ago. It’s time to change the number.”

“Did he give his name and address?”

“I doubt if he has an address, probably lives under a rock. Some bizarre, rambling nut yelling into the phone. Said that if that boy gets off he won’t last forty-eight hours on the streets. Said his lawyer won’t make it for twenty-four.”

“So, they’ll kill me first?”

“It’s not funny.”

“I’m not laughing. Let’s change the number.”

“Are you calling Ozzie?”

“Yes, not that it will do any good. We should continue that discussion about hiring private security.”

“Or maybe you should just tell Noose that you’ve had enough.”

“You want me to quit? I thought you were worried about Drew.”

“I am worried about Drew. I’m also worried about Hanna, and you and me, and surviving in this very small town.”

Stan Atcavage lived out by the country club in a wooded development of sprawling suburban homes built around the only golf course in the county. He ran Security Bank and held most of Jake’s mortgages, as well as the brand-new line of credit for the litigation expenses of the Smallwood case. Stan at first had balked at such a novel loan, as had Jake and Harry Rex. But as the case progressed they realized they had no choice but to borrow. After three divorces and now with a fourth wife, Harry Rex’s balance sheet was as unimpressive as Jake’s, though he currently had only one mortgage on his home. At fifty-one, Harry Rex was gazing at the future and worrying about it. Jake was only thirty-seven, but it seemed as though the longer he practiced law, the more money he owed.

Stan was a close friend but Jake couldn’t stomach his wife, nor could Carla. Her name was Tilda and she was from an old Jackson family she often described as wealthy, which turned off most people in Clanton. The town was far too small for her and her expensive tastes. Seeking brighter lights, she had forced Stan to join the Tupelo Country Club, a status symbol in the area, and a luxury they struggled to afford. She also drank too much, spent too much, and kept the pressure on her husband to earn more. As a banker in a small town, Stan said little, but he had confided enough in Jake to let him know the marriage was not going well. Fortunately, when they arrived half an hour late Tilda was already several drinks ahead and had moved beyond her customary stuffiness.

There were five couples, all in their late thirties and early forties, with kids ranging from three to fifteen. The women gathered at one end of the patio at a wine bar and talked about their children, while the men gathered at the keg and discussed other topics. First it was the stock market, a subject that bored Jake because he didn’t have the money to play it, and even if loaded with cash he thought he knew enough to avoid it. Next, it was the rather salacious rumor that a doctor they all knew had cracked