Chapter Eighteen #3
Emmy thought about something Celia had said regarding the fresh crop of senior boys at the high school. All the toxic masculinity of their grandfathers. None of the life skills.
She said, “Turn it sideways.”
“Oh.”
Emmy waited for them to back up so she could leave. She took a left toward the ladies’ room. She hadn’t realized how full her bladder had gotten until she sat down on the toilet. She dropped her head in her hands. Closed her eyes. Tried to focus.
Ezekial Gilchrist had clearly been paving the way for Bernadette Grayson.
She was a smart woman, but all the money in the world couldn’t raise you up from being a waitress to a lawyer with a top firm unless you were clever enough to make it work.
The campaign donations proved that Gilchrist’s hand was still at Bernadette’s back.
The relationship wasn’t wholly one-sided.
Having a future congresswoman or governor in your pocket was a good idea for a man who made money off agriculture, which was heavily regulated by the state, and Port Bainbridge, which was controlled by the Georgia Ports Authority.
Emmy flushed the toilet. She washed her hands at the sink. Took out her phone. She found the website for Bernadette’s law firm. Clicked through to her bio.
Bernadette Booker-Grayson is passionate about transportation law and agribusiness.
She has served on the Governor’s Roads and Rails Initiative and the Leadership Advisory Board to the Georgia Ports Authority.
During her nearly twenty years of practice, she has represented clients as diverse as the Farmers’ Land Rights Council and the Christian Diocese of Southwest Georgia.
In 2018, Bernadette took on the role of primary outside legal counsel for the ECGM Trust. She has proudly served as the mayor of Clayville, Georgia, for the past three years.
Emmy went to Contacts and pulled up Bernadette’s cell phone number. She leaned against the basin as she listened to the tinny rings echo around the bathroom.
“Sheriff,” Bernadette answered. “I was about to call you for an update. I don’t know if you’ve been monitoring social media, but people are angry. They’re saying the sheriff’s department is letting a known wife beater get away with murder and attempted murder. We need a resolution.”
“I’m working on it.”
Bernadette waited for more before she started speaking again.
“Emmy, I know you’re running for sheriff because it’s what your daddy wanted, but I’m gonna tell you this as one woman politician to another.
Our constituents are unforgiving babies.
You gotta work twice as hard for half the credit, and then you gotta show up the next day and work twice as hard again. ”
Emmy suppressed an eye roll because duh, but she took the opening. “I wondered if you could help me with some fundraising for my campaign.”
“Well—” Bernadette was thrown. “You know you’ve got my support, but I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to publicly take sides. All donations are searchable on the state database.”
“Do you know some other people who might be interested in helping?”
Bernadette gave an indulgent sigh. “I guess start calling your cousins. They own the auto parts factory and half the land in the county. I’m sure they’d be happy to help.”
“What about Ezekial Gilchrist?”
Bernadette didn’t have a quick response this time. “Now, Mr. Gilchrist is an interesting person. I had the honor of his support in my last campaign.”
Emmy asked, “The runoff, too?”
She didn’t answer the question, but it was clear that the tone of the call had shifted.
“I’ve known Mr. Gilchrist nearly half my life.
He’s always been a champion. I was a juror on his wife’s murder trial back in oh-two.
Obviously, we didn’t know each other when the trial was going on.
Sitting in that jury box is what got me interested in the law.
I saw how important it is for good people to make sure the system is working. ”
Emmy felt a smile tugging at her lips. Bernadette was trying to control the narrative. “What was the trial about?”
“I’m sure you remember, Emmy. It was a big deal at the time. Evelyn Gilchrist was murdered.”
“Oh, yeah. Neil Delano was found guilty, right?”
“Right.”
“Then he was murdered in prison.”
“Was he?”
Emmy could practically hear her sweating through the phone.
Bernadette said, “After the trial, Mr. Gilchrist reached out to thank me. We prayed together for his wife’s soul. He’s a godly man.”
“Did he pray with all the jurors, or just you?”
“I wouldn’t know. You’d have to ask them.”
“Do you remember their names?”
“I can’t recall,” Bernadette said, because she knew it was illegal to lie to a police officer. “That was some time ago, Emmy. Why are you asking about this? Bill’s out there acting like he’s a victim. Poor Mandy might not even make it.”
“Maybe I could ask Mr. Gilchrist if he remembers any other jurors. Can you set up a meeting for us? I know you’re the outside counsel for Evelyn’s trust.”
Bernadette grunted exactly the same way Reggie had. She knew the gloves were off. “Let’s see how the election goes next month, Emmy. No point in anybody talking to you if you’re not gonna be sheriff anymore.”
Emmy set the phone down on the basin counter. She wondered if Bernadette was calling Ezekial Gilchrist right now or driving over to his house so there was no record of the call.
Jude opened the bathroom door. “Hey, how’s it going?”
Emmy looked up from her phone. Jude hadn’t closed the door. She seemed different, more guarded, less eager to jump into a conversation. Something had changed again. Emmy could feel it on her skin, like a kind of electricity in the air when a storm is about to break open.
She asked, “What happened?”
“Nothing.” Jude gave a dismissive shrug, which was also odd, because she wasn’t usually the dismissive shrugger in the family.
“Cole’s taking Ginny home. I gave the names of the other jurors to one of your deputies to look up.
There were two men and one woman, but also an alternate who didn’t go into deliberations. She might remember something.”
Emmy couldn’t delve into her sister’s sudden onset changeability right now.
She motioned for Jude to close the door.
There was a reason Emmy had made the phone call to Bernadette in the only place in the station she could be alone.
Julian and Levi were being less defiant, but they were still Brett’s guys.
She didn’t want Reggie finding out what Hellbitch was up to.
She asked, “What are the names?”
Jude unfolded a piece of paper, held it at arm’s length so she could read. “Lesley Geitner, Bradley Charron, Nancy Hardage, and Shane Russell.”
Emmy shook her head. None of them were familiar. “Louis said the Pushy Juror was a man. That narrows it down to Bradley Charron and Shane Russell.”
“Any money the Pushy Juror was paid will be long gone. He’ll have a lengthy arrest record.
Probably started with domestic violence and moved his way up to assault, then murder.
I imagine there are drug charges because there’s always drug charges.
He’ll have spent some hard time in prison.
Probably got out in the last few months. ”
Emmy noticed a change in Jude’s voice again. She was always more comfortable giving a lecture. “What are you basing this on?”
“He was so pushy that Louis Singh almost reported him to the bailiff. That tells me he’s aggressive and impulsive.
If he murdered Ruel Clifton, that tells me he’s violent.
If he kidnapped Mitch Bellingham’s wife, that tells me he’s cruel.
He’s been part of a conspiracy for twenty-four years, but all of this is coming to a head now, which implies he was forced into time-out, which tells me that he was in prison.
I’m assuming he got out in the last few months because Allison was desperate enough to go to the FBI two months ago.
As for the domestic violence, they all start with domestic violence.
Hating women is not a bug. It’s a feature. ”
Emmy didn’t need a profiler to tell her that last part. “If the Pushy Juror just got out of prison, he could be looking for payback against the other jurors.”
“Revenge is generally a motive of desperation. In my experience, men who’ve done that kind of hard time want a big truck, a big woman, and a big payday.”
“Dad loved a money motive.” Emmy watched Jude’s slow nod of agreement.
She felt herself being pulled back into Jude’s strange affect again, but she forced herself to concentrate on the case.
“It seems like every juror but Mitch Bellingham got paid. If our suspect is broke, he could be blackmailing the other jurors. Maybe Allison found out. She was going to expose the Pushy Juror, and he murdered her.”
“Or, Allison was using her research to blackmail them herself.” Emmy shook her head again. “Allison was complicated in a lot of ways, but one thing she was clear on was being a good cop. She could’ve twisted the law against Bill for years, but she never even considered it.”
“The FBI wouldn’t help her even though she had Reggie and the drug squad dead to rights. She was desperate to start over. She tried to do it the right way. It makes sense that she would resort to the wrong way eventually.”
Emmy didn’t want to admit it, but she had to get another detail out there before Jude did.
“Allison had three hundred grand in cash in her attic that dated back to the time of the trial. She and Reggie were both rookies. She could’ve been paid to look the other way.
Maybe that’s why she never spent the cash. She felt guilty.”
Jude said, “If I was going to blackmail someone, I wouldn’t nickel-and-dime with the jurors. I’d go straight to Ezekial Gilchrist. He’s the one with the money. He’s also got a lot more to lose.”