Chapter Seventeen #4
They had gotten too close. Gone too deep.
There was a real friendship developing. An appreciation.
A kinship. A close bond. But Jude was not Emmy’s sister.
She was her mother, and she had to stop pretending otherwise.
Celia was right. Her kindness had turned into cowardice.
The only solution was for Jude to remove herself from the situation.
To stop making memories. To go back to San Francisco.
To rebuild her courage. To think about the things that mattered.
Time away would give them both some perspective.
She would return to North Falls when Emmy was able to sit down and talk.
For now, separation was the only way to stop the bleeding.
“Jude?” Emmy was at the other end of the aisle. She looked anxious. She was wringing her hands the same way she had at Myrna’s funeral.
All of Jude’s resolve broke. She rushed toward Emmy. Stuck her hands into her jacket pockets so that she wouldn’t reach for her. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Emmy’s face told a different story. “Sonny told me Louis had a nap earlier, so he’s having a good day. You’ve never been around somebody with dementia, right?”
“Not to interview.” Jude paused. “Do you want me to talk to him?”
“No, I’ve got it.” Emmy spoke with a tangible sense of dread. “Having a good day doesn’t mean back to normal. He’s still going to mix people up, use the wrong words, blank out. Just roll with whatever he says. Anything else might upset him.”
Jude followed her to the back. She shook her head, told herself she wasn’t a coward. She would find the right moment, but that moment could not be right now.
The office was crammed with overflowing shelves and bins.
Jude let her gaze settle on the disparate pieces: machine screws, bolts, washers, and specialized parts that looked like they belonged in a steampunk exhibit.
She felt her resolve start to strengthen, her purpose come into focus.
She was here for Emmy. When Emmy stopped needing her, she would be gone.
Louis Singh was perched on a stool pulled up to a tall drafting table. Photos lined the wall—his wife and kids, some of the men he’d served with in Vietnam. A set of wooden in and out trays showed that his pretend work was almost finished for the day.
He put down his pen when they walked in.
A smile lit up his wrinkled old face. His laugh lines were deep because he had always loved a good joke.
Jude could’ve been blindfolded and still found him by sensation alone.
The man had an aura that projected kindness.
She remembered him as always looking for the positive.
Unrelentingly happy. Forgiving. Generous to a fault.
In so many ways, he was the opposite of Gerald Clifton, who had been brooding and conflicted and so trapped in his own head that he could go days without speaking.
As a young girl, Jude had been furious with her mother for cheating. As an adult, she wondered why her mother hadn’t cheated more.
“Martha!” Louis called Jude by her old name. He pulled her into a bear hug. “You look just like your mother.”
Jude was almost overcome with emotion. She hadn’t been properly hugged since she’d left San Francisco. Holding Millie had felt like embracing a barbed icicle, and Tommy’s idea of affection was a quick pat on the shoulder.
Louis held her at arm’s length. “My God, you’re a knockout! Are you seeing anybody?”
Jude winked. “Don’t tempt me.”
Louis bellowed with laughter. “My heart couldn’t keep up with you. Sonny, take a look at this foxy gal. They don’t make ’em like this anymore.”
Sonny leaned his shoulder against the open door. He had a faint smile on his lips. He nodded a hello to Jude. They had gone to school together but had been in very different groups.
“Dad,” Sonny said. “I think the sheriff has some questions for you.”
“Oh, that sounds important.” He pointed his finger at Emmy. “You here for debate tips? I helped your dad when he ran against old Rusty Chamberlain.”
Emmy’s guarded expression softened a fraction. “How did he do?”
“Poor fella was shaking like a leaf. Took half a pint of Old Rip to get him on the stage.” Louis was laughing, but Jude knew he wasn’t exaggerating. “Gerald gets up there and says, ‘You know who I am. Vote for me or don’t. I’ve got work to do.’ Then he just walks away.”
His imitation of Gerald’s voice was so spot-on that Jude felt teary. She could see that it had the same effect on Emmy.
“Dad,” Sonny said. “Remember they’ve got some questions.”
“I remember. I’m not that looney tunes. At least not yet.” He made a show of being serious, leaning on his stool, crossing his arms, frowning. “Whatcha got for me, Martha?”
Emmy hesitated, because he’d directed the question at her, not Jude. “Mr. Singh. I need to talk about a trial that took place several years ago.”
“Well, I don’t think O.J. did it, if that’s what you’re here for. The cops lied about too many details to be trusted.”
Jude caught the smile on Sonny’s lips as he looked down at the floor.
Louis laughed. “I’m just pulling your leg. What do you girls need?”
Emmy clearly didn’t think the joke was funny. She tried again. “I’m here about the Neil Delano trial. I believe you were a juror.”
“Yes, I was the foreman. The county paid us fifteen dollars a day, plus lunch.” The question had physically changed Louis.
He sat up straighter. Rested his hands on his knees.
“The trial started six months to the day after nine-eleven. Evelyn Gilchrist was murdered. Bless her heart. She would’ve lived if the trauma center had been open back then. ”
“That’s right.” Emmy’s tension ebbed a little. “Did anything strange happen during the trial or deliberations?”
“Ruel Clifton died the day before the prosecution was going to rest its case. We were all devastated by the loss. He was a good man. Judge Coleman suspended the trial for three days.” Louis shook his head, obviously still troubled by the loss. “When we came back, everything had changed.”
“Changed how?”
Louis’s face took on a blank look. He’d lost the story.
“The Neil Delano trial in 2002,” Emmy said. “Everything changed after Ruel Clifton died.”
“It did.” Louis agreed. “It certainly did. Most of us were leaning toward acquittal, but then we got back after the funeral and everything changed.”
Emmy said, “I apologize, Mr. Singh. I don’t think I’m following. The jury was going to find Neil Delano not guilty before Ruel Clifton died?”
“That’s right. The evidence didn’t stack up.” He looked at Jude. “Myrn, you remember me and Gerald talking about it after the trial. We were at the Elks Lodge for Alvin’s birthday.”
He’d mistaken Jude for her mother. She took Emmy’s advice about rolling with it. “That was a while ago. Can you remind me what Gerald said?”
“You know what he said, you silly goose. Gerald thought the whole trial was a sham. Said that old Chief Kitteridge had framed Delano. That Delano might’ve been guilty, but the evidence wasn’t there to prove it.
Delano was a petty thief. A smash-and-grab man.
I don’t mean to be rude, but he only robbed poor people. ”
This last comment was directed at Sonny, who was dressed in torn jeans and a paint-stained hoodie.
Louis told Jude, “Knocking over the Gilchrist mansion took strategizing. Gerald figured it was a gang out of Macon. The alarm was bypassed. The dogs were drugged. The house was cased. Nobody was supposed to be home. Evelyn was only there because she was under the weather. All the items that were stolen—the watches and jewelry—were high-end, not the kind of stuff you could pawn over in Ocmulgee. That pointed to an organized crew, not one fella.”
Since Louis had directed the information to Jude, she asked the next question. “What changed your mind about Delano’s innocence?”
Louis stared at her. Jude thought he’d lost the plot again, but then he resumed.
“In Delano’s first statement to the police, he claimed he’d never been inside the house.
Then, right before the prosecution rested their case, they introduced new evidence.
It took away all my reasonable doubt. I had no choice but to vote to convict. ”
Emmy asked, “What evidence?”
“They found Delano’s fingerprint on the refrigerator door handle inside the Gilchrist home.
The thumb, if I recall correctly.” Louis held up his thumb to show Emmy.
“The police officer explained during his testimony that that’s a thing burglars do.
They don’t just steal your valuables. They drink your milk straight from the carton, then they put it back in the fridge. Can you imagine?”
Jude watched Emmy grapple with a way to ask a very complicated question.
Evidence that damning didn’t come up as a surprise ending to a prosecutor’s case.
They presented it early on because it was tantamount to a smoking gun—The defendant claimed he’d never been inside the house.
Here’s his fingerprint proving he’s a liar.
Emmy clarified, “At the last minute, the prosecutor called a police officer to the stand who presented evidence that put Delano inside the Gilchrist house?”
Louis pointed his finger at her. “I found the timing very suspicious, too. My parents came here to escape the British Raj. No offense, young lady. I see how you’re dressed, but I am very skeptical of the government. Police officers are not always truthful.”
“Okay,” Emmy said. “What made you trust this particular officer?”
“I’ve known the family for years. Watched him grow up, play ball in high school.” Louis leaned forward. “You know Reggie. He wouldn’t lie.”
Jude saw Emmy’s nostrils flare.
“Reggie Wilder?”
“That’s right. Good kid. Followed his daddy onto the police force.”
Emmy looked down at the floor while she composed herself. Then she looked at Louis. “At the trial, did Reggie explain why the fingerprint evidence came in so late?”
“He took full responsibility. That’s one of the reasons I found his testimony credible. Reggie was very new to the job. It was his fault that the slide with the fingerprint wasn’t sent to the state lab with the rest of the evidence. Once he realized his mistake, he drove it up there himself.”
“I bet he did,” Emmy mumbled. “Can you remember the names of any other jurors?”
“Well, there’s Cal Nader, but he left town after the trial. Sent me a postcard from Montana. He bought a tractor repair business.”
Emmy took out her phone and started typing. “Anyone else?”
“Guy Harrison retired to Florida, which was surprising. He was only forty-something. Heard he did well in the stock market. Lived on a houseboat until he died. Victoria Daniels must’ve married well.
She moved to Paris, of all the crazy places.
Geraldine Hopkins was the alternate juror who took Ruel’s place.
She died of cancer ten years ago. Left a tidy sum to the library.
Now, she was a nice-looking woman. Not like these skinny girls today. Looked like she could eat a sandwich.”
“Dad,” Sonny mumbled.
“All right, all right, I’m just trying to help.”
“You’re being very helpful, Mr. Singh.” Emmy finished typing the last name. “Anyone else you can remember from the jury?”
Louis scratched the side of his cheek as he thought it through.
“There was another tough-guy type. I can’t recall his name.
Chuck or Doug—no, Chuck Douglas. Moved to Atlanta.
Started an appliance repair shop. I heard he did pretty well for himself.
You know, it’s funny, but looking back, just about everybody had their life change for the better after the trial. Except for Ruel, of course.”
Emmy’s gaze found Jude’s.
“Look at what happened to Bernadette,” Louis said. “She was barely a child back then. Worked in the diner off Route Sixteen. Then she paid her way to law school, started her own practice, and now she’s running an entire city.”
Jude saw Emmy’s hands tighten around her phone.
“Bernadette Grayson, the mayor of Clayville, was on the jury?”
“Yes, but she was still Bernadette Booker back then. Now, she was close to another juror. I was actually worried because she was so young and he was a bit older. I found him very off-putting. He certainly wasn’t North Falls people.”
“Can you tell me his name?”
Louis grimaced. “Sorry, honey, I’m drawing a blank. Probably put him out of my mind because he was so unpleasant.”
“What bothered you about him?”
“Well, he was a pushy fella, but I deal with all sorts of pushy types in this business all day.” Louis crossed his arms over his chest. “The problem was, Judge Coleman instructed us that we were not allowed to talk about any testimony before jury deliberations, but this fella kept pushing us for information, trying to pin us down on which way we were planning to vote. I almost asked the bailiff to intercede, but then of course Ruel died and everything was very somber after that.”
Emmy was clearly struggling to keep her equilibrium. “You’re sure you can’t remember the pushy fella’s name?”
“Bernadette will know. Like I said, they were thick as thieves.”
“Okay.” Emmy glanced down at her phone. She was probably adding it up. He’d named six jurors so far, plus the Pushy Fella. That left four more names excluding his own. “Anyone else?”
“Yes.” Louis snapped his fingers. “Mitch Bellingham. Now he was always an ornery cuss, especially during the trial. The very last holdout. He was a vet like me, a true patriot, though I was Air Force and he was Army, so there was some friction there. Tunnel rat. Tough as nails. That man I told you about—the pushy fella. He kept needling Mitch and needling him, trying to find out which way he planned to vote, and finally Mitch yelled, ‘I’ll stick a gun in my mouth and pull the trigger before I put an innocent man in prison!’”
Jude flinched at his loud tone.
“Dad,” Sonny repeated.
Louis waved him off. “Mitch was a character, all right. And I’ll tell you what, I believed him about eating his gun.
He was that adamant. You fight for your country, you believe in what’s right, even for people you don’t necessarily like.
You don’t get to choose who gets a fair shake. It’s all or none.”
“Mr. Singh,” Emmy said. “The jury voted unanimously to convict Neil Delano. What changed Mitch’s mind?”
“If you’re asking me to guess, I’d say two things,” Louis said.
“Ruel’s death hit us all hard, but Mitch had gotten close to him during the trial.
They were both big fishermen. Talked about trout like other men talk about women.
And the second thing is, I think his marriage was in trouble.
His wife just up and disappeared after Ruel’s funeral. ”
Emmy gave Louis a careful look. “Do you know if she came back?”
“Oh, yes,” Louis said. “I ran into him at the store a few months later. He told me she came back the day after the trial was over.”