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Back The Hallows Save as PDF
Chapters (89)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. DEDICATION
  4. CONTENTS
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. 66
  71. 67
  72. 68
  73. 69
  74. 70
  75. 71
  76. 72
  77. 73
  78. 74
  79. 75
  80. 76
  81. 77
  82. 78
  83. 79
  84. 80
  85. 81
  86. 82
  87. 83
  88. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  89. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

“You sure you want to embarrass yourself like this?” he said when we were alone. “This will be all over the gossip sites and the Miami Herald.”

“Helped in no small part by interviews with you about how I’ve lost my edge, no doubt.”

“Oh, no doubt.” He grinned. “That boy is going to walk.”

I rose and folded my arms, staring into his pupils. “Show me.”

59

59

Jia and Will were sitting behind me in the audience pews when the bailiffs brought out Anderson. Steven, who’d signed the plea deal earlier, would be brought in later to testify. Pritcher sat quietly at the defense table, unmoving. I didn’t even see him blink.

“That was quite the show you put on at the jail a few weeks ago,” I said, leaning over to him. “You had me sold.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said with a little grin.

“Even if it was a show, I would’ve expected you to crack his head open for talking to you like that.”

He turned and faced forward again as the judge came out and the bailiff announced her.

Judge Allred took out her notepad and paper and a couple of pens and checked that they worked before she said, “Any pretrial motions to consider before we bring out the panel?”

“None from the State.”

“None from the defense.”

I glanced at Pritcher. Really? I would’ve had a laundry list of nitpicking evidentiary issues to bring up to the judge, hoping to get a few little things tossed at the last minute.

“Then let’s bring out the panel.”

All the attorneys stood. A group of forty people was brought in. I didn’t recognize any of them, but a couple of them smiled at me out of courtesy. When they were seated, the judge said, “Ladies and gentlemen, we will now go through a process called voir dire. It is where we will be asking you questions about yourself in the hopes of making certain you can be impartial during this trial. I allow each attorney one hour to question you. Please be honest in your responses.”

I got to go first. I’d read the questionnaires they were required to fill out beforehand, and they didn’t have much useful information. Without my $600-an-hour jury consultants I had in Miami, jury selection was limited in what I could get out of them.

I had no doubt Pritcher had flown out a jury consultant to poll the local population on the guilt or innocence of Anderson Ficco long ago and had come up with a list of traits people who thought he was innocent had.

I smiled at them and said, “Thank you so much for being here. I know a courtroom on a sunny day is not the ideal place to be, but, hey, at least we got warm water from a cooler over there for you.”

Slight chuckle from the panel.