“And the defendant?” Connelly had made a point not to look at Helen all week, but this time she did. Her eyes were creased with worry and a twinge of fear.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Bo’s deep voice rang out, and Connelly moved her eyes to him.

“Then call your next witness.”

“Your Honor, we call the defendant to the stand.”

Though the crowd of spectators had clearly expected this development—that was why most of them were here—there was still a collective sucking in of air.

Helen stood and walked toward the witness stand. For almost thirty years, she had questioned people who had sat in this very box. Murderers. Rapists. Drunk drivers. Eyewitnesses. Medical examiners. Victims and their family members. Every type of person from every conceivable walk of life.

Now, she took her place in the box.

“State your name for the record.”

Helen cleared her throat and lowered her mouth toward the microphone. “Helen Evangeline Lewis.”

“And please tell the jury what you do for a living.”

“I am the district attorney general for the Twenty-Second Judicial Circuit.”

“General Lewis . . .” Bocephus Haynes’s voice rose to the back of the courtroom, and even Helen herself felt the hair on her arms and neck begin to tingle.

“. . . on the night of April 1, 2015, did you kill Frederick Alan Renfroe?”

“No,” Helen said, speaking as firm as she knew how to speak. “I did not.”

“Did you threaten Mr. Renfroe earlier that day, in this very courtroom, that you would kill him if he revealed a secret that the two of you had shared since 1977?”

Helen looked directly at the jury. “Yes, I did.”

“And what was that secret?”

“In December 1977, I told Butch that I had aborted our child. I told him that I didn’t want to have children because I wasn’t ready.”

“And did he promise to keep the abortion secret?”

“He did.” Helen knew the prosecution could object to Butch’s comments to her as hearsay, but why would they? All of this abortion talk was fanning the flames of their case.

“But on April 1, 2015, he threatened to disclose this secret to your opponent in next month’s election for district attorney general, Mr. Sack Glover?” Bo gestured with his right arm to Sack.

“Yes.”

“He also said that he had drafted a press release that he would send to the local papers and television stations, correct?”

“Yes, he did.”

“And you threatened to kill him?”

“Yes. I was upset. He’d promised never to say anything.”

“General Lewis, did you go to Doug Brinkley’s shooting range that night after work?”

“I did. When I’m stressed out, I like to shoot guns. My favorite gun to shoot is my .44, and that’s what I was using that night.”

“How long were you at the range?”

“A little over an hour. I thought it would calm me down.”

“Did it?”

Helen shook her head. “No. If anything, I was madder.”