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Back Legacy of Lies Save as PDF
Chapters (88)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. DEDICATION
  4. CONTENTS
  5. PART ONE
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. PART TWO
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. PART THREE
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. 47
  55. 48
  56. 49
  57. 50
  58. 51
  59. 52
  60. 53
  61. 54
  62. 55
  63. 56
  64. 57
  65. 58
  66. 59
  67. PART FOUR
  68. 60
  69. 61
  70. 62
  71. 63
  72. 64
  73. 65
  74. 66
  75. 67
  76. 68
  77. 69
  78. 70
  79. 71
  80. 72
  81. 73
  82. 74
  83. 75
  84. 76
  85. 77
  86. EPILOGUE
  87. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  88. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Page’s face flushed dark red, and he narrowed his eyes into slits. For a long three seconds, he said nothing. When he spoke, his voice was low and filled with menace. “Because of your many years in this office, I’m going to give you a mulligan this time, General.” He paused and pointed a shaky index finger at her. “But if you ever make an insinuation like that toward me again, I’m going to hold you in contempt, and you’ll spend the night in a jail cell. Do you understand?”

Helen maintained her glare and swallowed back the words she wanted to say. “Yes,” she managed.

Page waited a half beat for an apology that wasn’t coming before shaking his head. “I’ll see you at nine tomorrow morning.” Then he slammed the door behind him.

6

6

At 1:30 p.m., the exact time when the trial of Michael Zannick should have started, the courtroom was empty except for Helen, who sat in the back row of the jury. She had taken her heels off and was scratching her left calf with the stockinged toe of her right foot. The Zannick file lay on the chair next to her, and she had finished reviewing Sheriff Springfield’s investigative report for at least the hundredth time. She took a sip of coffee from a Styrofoam cup. It tasted harsh and bitter. Exactly the way she felt.

Helen rose from her seat and began to pace the floor, digging her toes into the hardwood. She had dispatched Gloria to notify Mandy and Lona as well as to update their other witnesses on the change of schedule. Helen suspected that her young assistant was now in the office going over the pretrial motions and the witnesses whom Helen was going to let Gloria handle during the trial. Though the office of the district attorney general was out the double doors and down the hall, Helen preferred to work in the quiet of the empty courtroom away from the ever-ringing phone, the nagging emails, and the annoying drop-ins from defense attorneys.

But there was more to it than the elimination of distractions. She loved the circuit courtroom of the Giles County Courthouse. She thought of the area between these four walls as her church. Her cathedral. Her home, if you wanted to get it down where the goats could eat it. She gazed up at the old balcony, whose original purpose was to segregate black spectators from the whites and which now was more of a museum piece that Willa Michaels, the archives custodian, would show visitors during tours of the courthouse. So much history had transpired between these four walls. Some good. Some bad. Some downright ugly.

In that sense, the courtroom’s past mirrored that of the town of Pulaski.