Chapter 35
After four hours of deliberation, the jury hadn’t reached a verdict by the end of business that Friday. They asked the judge for permission to deliberate over the weekend. By Saturday dinner, I’d still heard nothing.
Will stood at the kitchen counter stirring a pot of chili he’d made. It was a recipe he’d learned in a life skills class he was taking. It smelled delicious. Every time Sam or I tried to see if he needed help, Will kicked us out. We’d been relegated to the living room.
“He smacked your hand away too?” I asked Sam, smiling.
“More of a body block,” Sam answered. “In six more months, that boy’s going to be taller than me.”
No small feat. Sam stood just over six feet. I resisted the urge to say Will got his height from his father. Sam harbored no jealousy, but it had taken me a long time to reclaim my life after Jason tried to destroy it. I would not give him purchase in it again.
“Mara,” he said. “You’re gonna have to stop looking at your phone.”
I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding it. I kept checking for texts from Judge Saul’s clerk.
“They said they wanted to go until noon today,” I said. “It’s almost five. They’ve been at it for ten hours. How could it take ten hours?”
He sat down beside me. “And you’re the last person I have to tell how juries work.”
“It means they weren’t unanimous when they took their initial vote. It means some of them think he’s innocent.”
“Or it means only one person thinks he’s innocent and the other eleven have common sense. Or something else.”
“Ugh. You’re right. I don’t know why I’m torturing myself with this one. I’ve never done this before during deliberations. I always think my job is over after the panel is sequestered.”
“It is.” Sam leaned over to kiss me. It felt good to have him here. He’d been spending most weekends at my place lately. We’d gone slow, letting Will adjust to having him as a permanent fixture in his life. Now, my son was out there making dinner for all of us.
But there was something bothering Sam. Over the last months, I’d gotten used to his noises, his facial expressions. Right now, he had a crease between his eyes. I knew it meant he had something else on his mind.
“What is it?” I asked. He was getting used to my noises, tones, and facial expressions, too. He knew I wouldn’t be brushed off.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he said. “Something Cutler said in his closing. That bit about you using this case as leverage to run for prosecutor.”
I looked over Sam’s shoulder. Will opened the oven. He’d asked me to pick up some garlic bread. He busied himself basting butter over the top of it as it baked.
“What do you want to ask me?”
Sam shifted so he was facing me. “When were you going to tell me you decided to run?”
“I haven’t. That’s the thing. That’s what’s been bothering me about it. I had one conversation with Kenya. The crux of that was me trying to bully her into coming back. I probably shouldn’t tell you this. But she’s going to. She just wanted to be sure I didn’t want it.”
“Wow,” he said. “That’s … wow. She’s coming back?”
“I’m pretty sure. She admitted her lost weekend needs to be over. We need her back in the game.”
“Hmm. Well, that’s interesting. And encouraging. But you didn’t really answer me. And so I’m clear. It’s not that you need my permission to make a choice like that.”
“Don’t I?” I said, quicker than I meant. A stab of fear went through me.
Sam took my hands in his and brought them to his lips. “That came out wrong. What I meant to say … you know you would have had my support. Whatever you decided to do.”
“Sam … we’ve talked about this plenty. Me as prosecutor and you as sheriff. It could cause issues for you. That was absolutely part of my thought process.”
The crease between his eyes softened. “I’m glad. Because …” He looked over his shoulder. Will had a pair of earbuds in as he stirred his chili. My stomach growled.
“Sam, there’s another issue with what Cutler said. I told you. I’ve discussed running for prosecutor with very few people. You. Kenya. Caro and Hojo. And those last two really briefly. Mostly trying to gauge if Hojo really didn’t want it. Cutler got his information from somewhere.”
“Or he didn’t,” Sam said. “He just took a wild guess and said it to rattle you. And it did. Here we are talking about it.”
“And I have made a decision,” I said. “I mean it. I want to stay where I am.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Mara, I just don’t like the idea that it was because of me.”
I took a breath. Sam met my eyes. I thought of everything we’d been through in the last few months.
He’d been a solid source of support. Never putting more pressure on me even though part of my job had added more stress to Gus.
And there was Will. Somehow, Sam had found a balance with him.
Not a replacement father. But a mentor. Someone Will knew he could trust.
“Yes,” I said. “Part of my decision was because of you. I’ve been honest about that.”
“Mara …”
“Let me finish. It’s important what we do. The county needs you. You’re my sheriff too. I’ve seen good ones. I’ve seen lousy ones. I know how bad lousy ones can be. I think you’re heading toward being a great one. That matters to me. You matter to me.”
“You matter to me, too.”
“And I liked what you said. As much as the county needs a good sheriff, they need someone good at that prosecutor’s table, too.
I think that’s me. I think I can do more good where I am than dealing with union contracts and the county commissioners and all the administrative stuff that comes with Kenya’s job.
And it’s not like it pays all that much more than what I’m doing now.
So, Kenya’s going to run. She’ll win. And we’ll get the band back together the way it was. ”
He smiled. “As long as it’s really what you want.”
“It is.”
“Sam, will you just do it already?” Will shouted. He was way too loud on account of his earbuds. I gestured toward my own ears. Will pulled one out.
“Did you do it?” he asked Sam.
Sam’s face lost a little color. “Uh … we were kind of talking about something else.”
“You want me to go back to the kitchen until you’re done?” Will asked. “It’ll be okay. She’s gonna say yes.”
I felt a jolt of adrenaline. What had the two of them been plotting?
I looked back at Sam. He’d subtly shifted his posture. He had one leg on the couch and the other slid down so he rested on his knee.
His knee. He was positioning himself down on one knee.
“Sam …” I said.
Will’s face dropped. “Oh. Sorry. My bad.” He quickly turned and went back to the kitchen.
“Well,” he said. “You can see I’ve got a bit of a co-conspirator. Maybe that’s okay. Maybe that’s perfect, actually.”
“Just … say it,” I said, my heart thudding. I hadn’t anticipated it. Hadn’t really let the idea of it truly enter my mind.
“Mara,” Sam started. “I love you. We were friends for a long time before this. I’ve known you for what, ten years?”
“Something like that.”
“I’m not good at grand gestures. But if you …”
Sam’s phone rang. A second later, mine started to ring. Both of them sat on the coffee table next to us. We froze. I could see the caller ID on Sam’s. It was Gus. The caller ID on mine was Hojo.
“The jury?” Sam said.
I shook my head. “It wouldn’t be Hojo.”
We both reached for our phones, fueled by the same concern. We answered in unison.
“Hello?” I said. I kept my gaze locked with Sam’s as Gus told him the same news I was getting from Hojo.
“Mara,” he said. “I’ve just gotten a call from Deputy Jaffee. He’s over at County Hospital. Claudia Luke called 9-1-1. She found Erin Simmons unresponsive on her living room floor. It looks like she tried to take her own life. They’re treating her now. But it doesn’t look good.”
“Dammit,” Sam said as he nodded then hung up his call with Gus.
“We’re on our way,” I said. “Has anyone gotten a hold of Hayden or George Luke?”
“Working on it now,” Hojo answered. I thanked him and clicked off the call.
“Come on,” Sam said. “I’ll drive. Will? Just keep the chili warm.”