“Damn it, Abner.” Clay gripped the phone harder. “I could ruin you!”
“That wouldn’t be very smart. Evidence tampering, if it came out, would guarantee Will Tyler’s acquittal. And I wouldn’t be slow to let folks know you were in on the scheme. Call me to the stand, and I’ll resign. Then I’ll tell the truth. Your choice, Mr. Prosecutor.”
With a muttered obscenity Clay ended the call. What a time for Abner to get noble! But the little toad was right about one thing. Clay couldn’t touch him without incriminating himself.
Clay glanced at his watch. The lunch break was over. It was time to be back in court. And he had nothing left.
* * *
Will shifted forward in his chair as Tori introduced two audiotapes into evidence and played them for the jury. The first was a recording of the radio announcement, describing the fugitive. The second was the tape of Will’s urgent call to the 911 dispatcher, when he believed he’d killed the robber. More than any other evidence, these tapes supported Will’s reason for shooting the man on the motorcycle and confirmed that he’d truly believed he was facing a dangerous criminal. Now it was time for Tori to call her first, and only, witness.
“The defense calls Will Tyler.”
By the time Will told his story on the stand, most of it was old news. When he was finished, Tori had just one question for him.
“Please explain to the court why you covered the body and why you called me first, before you called the sheriff.”
“In answer to both questions, I wanted to spare my daughter,” Will said. “The sight of a dead man with a bloody hole in his chest would’ve haunted her for the rest of her life. I didn’t want that picture in her mind. As for the call, I didn’t know she’d witnessed the shooting. I only wanted to get her away from an upsetting scene to someplace safe and familiar. For me, that was even more urgent than calling in the law. That’s all I
have to say.”
Clay’s cross-examination was tepid. And the man looked even more ragged than he had that morning, his eyes sunk in shadows, his speech far from its usual machine-gun delivery. By the time he finished his closing statement, once more pressing the point that Will’s impulsive shot had needlessly killed an innocent man, he appeared so exhausted that Will wondered if he might be ill—or maybe trying to garner sympathy.
Tori’s performance, in Will’s eyes at least, was flawless. As she faced the jury, looking spectacular and pointing out that Will had done what any reasonable father would do, one thought took root in his mind. If he walked out of this courthouse a free man, he wanted Tori back. He wanted her in his home and in his bed, with his ring on her finger. He wanted a normal, loving family life with his wife and daughter. And he wouldn’t give up until he’d made it happen.
But right now, everything depended on the outcome of the trial.
So far, Will had reason to be hopeful. But juries could be unpredictable, verdicts surprising. There was no way of knowing what would go on behind those closed doors. A strong case didn’t always win. And this one, based more on circumstance than on solid evidence, would be a judgment call. It could go either way.
With his freedom hanging on their decision, Will watched the jury file out of the courtroom, charged with finding on two counts— manslaughter and obstruction of justice. They could be out for an hour. Or they could be arguing into tomorrow.
* * *
Will, Tori, Erin, Lauren, and Beau drove the seven blocks to Tori’s house to wait. Tori broke out cold sodas and snacks for everyone. Erin and Beau switched on a video game. The action crackled, heightening the tension in the room as they played. Lauren, looking tired, phoned Sky, then wandered into Tori’s room to lie down. Tori and Will, too edgy to relax, alternately sat and prowled. Time crawled, minute by anxious minute.
Two hours from the time they’d reached the house, Tori got the call. The jury had a verdict. They piled into her wagon and rode in silence back to the courthouse. Sitting beside Erin in the backseat, Will felt his daughter’s hand creep into his. He held on tight as they pulled into the parking lot and stopped at the side entrance to the courthouse. In the foyer they glimpsed Stella, in her tight black dress, hurrying into the courtroom ahead of them.
Pulse racing, Will took his place at the table with Tori. Erin and Lauren had moved forward to sit behind him, next to Beau. They’d scarcely had time to get settled before the jury filed back into the box and “Please rise” signaled the entrance of the judge. As they sat again, Will glanced across the aisle at Clay Drummond. Beads of sweat gleamed on the prosecutor’s forehead.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict?” the judge asked.
The foreman stood. “We have, Your Honor.”
“Will the defendant please rise?”
Will stood, his expression frozen in a stoic mask. Beside him, he could feel Tori trembling.
“On the count of manslaughter, how do you find?” the judge asked.
“We the jury find the defendant, Williston Tyler, not guilty.”
Will’s knees went slack. He groped for Tori’s hand, not finding it.
“And on the count of obstruction of justice? How do you find?”
“We find the defendant not guilty.”
Not guilty!