BooksBarbecue
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

We got back to the courthouse about an hour after the clerk had called us. The judge was already on the bench and the prosecution was at the table. Marcus was sitting on the defense side, and I strolled up and sat next to him. The judge gave me a dirty look, but not too long of a dirty look. He wanted to retire soon, and retired judges almost always became mediators or arbitrators. And the way mediators and arbitrators got business was lawyer referrals. So they could be jerks only up to a point to lawyers like me who ran the most powerful firms in the state.

The bailiff handed the judge the verdict form, and the judge read it impassively and handed it back.

“It is my understanding the jury has reached a verdict in the matter of State of Florida versus Marcus C. Green?”

A slim man in a button-down shirt stood up. “We have, Your Honor.”

I rose and Marcus rose with me. This was the moment of truth. The moment that I’d worked toward for the past six months. All the strategy, the research, the late nights, and the hours of grilling Marcus over and over to prepare him for the prosecution’s cross-examination—it all came down to this moment. Some lawyers got so nervous at the verdict announcement they puked. I never did. Cool as a cucumber. When you’d done your work, the verdict was a given. No need to be nervous.

So why, when I glanced down, were my fingers trembling? That hadn’t happened since my first trial.

“We, the jury, in the above-entitled matter, on the first count, find the defendant, Marcus Cutler Green, not guilty of the offense of homicide in the first degree. We find the defendant, Marcus Cutler Green, on the second count, not guilty of the offense of aggravated kidnapping.”

Gasps, cries, whispers. The audience couldn’t believe it. Marcus looked like he might faint; all the blood drained from his face. Narrowly avoiding life in prison could do that to a person. I grinned and nodded to the jury in appreciation. After a jury trial, I usually held a large barbecue for the jurors, a tactic that once had me in front of a disciplinary committee of the Florida Bar. But the case had ended, and influencing the jurors hadn’t mattered anymore, so the Bar complaint had been tossed. I made a mental note to instruct my assistant to set up the barbecue.

I looked over to the prosecution, who kept their eyes forward. Only Sarah watched me, with a look of disappointment, while the judge thanked the jury and excused them.