Kitchen Boss

“But I just wanted to show everyone here that Cathy never tried to hurt my sister,” Jackson says. “She would never have done such a thing.”

Gina grins. The prosecutor frowns.

“Mr. Holloway…”

Jackson turns to the judge. “Your Honor, may I speak? I swore to tell the truth and nothing but the truth, and I’d like to do that now.”

The judge glances at her watch and nods. “Very well. You may address the court.”

Jackson draws a deep breath. “Cathy and my sister, Trisha, were best friends. It’s true they didn’t always agree, but they were always there for each other. Trisha, adventurous as she was and reckless sometimes, would get into trouble and Cathy would pull her out of it. Or Cathy would feel reluctant to do something and Trisha would push her into it. When my parents got divorced, Cathy was there for Trisha. When Cathy had an appendectomy, Trisha wouldn’t leave her side. Would you believe my sister offered to donate her own appendix because she thought Cathy needed it?”

Gina chuckles. My jaw drops. Trisha never told me that.

“One summer, a rattlesnake wandered into our yard,” Jackson goes on.

Oh, this I know.

“Trisha was terrified, but Cathy rushed between the snake and her. She was ready to give up her life for her best friend.”

I purse my lips. I still don’t know how I did that. I guess I just didn’t want to lose Trisha no matter what.

Jackson turns to the judge once more. “What I’m saying, Your Honor, is that Cathy Jeffries would never have tried to push Trisha’s head under water. And I’m not saying this because she was my fiancee but because I saw how much she loved my sister.”

I smile as his words fill my chest with a reassuring warmth.

“Your Honor,” the prosecutor protests. “This is all Mr. Holloway’s opinion. He doesn’t know what happened. Gary Pitts does.”

Jackson opens his mouth. “But – ”

“Mr. Holloway, I thank you for your story,” the judge says. “But no one’s alleging that Cathy tried to kill your sister or that she meant it. The charge is manslaughter, which means there was no malice, just that someone died as a result of what someone else did or didn’t do.”

I frown as my hopes crumble.

Jackson stands up. “But – ”

“But Mr. Pitts doesn’t really know what happened,” Gina interrupts as she, too, gets out of her seat.

The prosecutor turns to her. “Are you calling my witness a liar?”

Gina ignores him and turns to the judge. “Your Honor, I have just received information that I would like to submit into evidence. Early this year, Mr. Pitts’ granddaughter was diagnosed with leukemia. His family was struggling to find funds for her treatment, but a few weeks ago, two days before the prosecution filed the charge against my client, his granddaughter was admitted to a modern and very expensive treatment program. I find that suspicious.”

My eyebrows arch. Gina is saying that Mr. Pitts was paid off?

The prosecutor gapes. “Your Honor, this information is irrelevant and the defense’s insinuations are absurd.”

“Ms. Levinson, where did you get this information?” the judge asks Gina.

“I have medical documents, Your Honor,” Gina answers.

I throw a puzzled look at her back. She does?

The judge turns to Mr. Pitts. “Mr. Pitts, is this information true?”

He stands up and scratches his head. “I…”

“I would like to call Mr. Pitts back to the stand,” Gina says. “That way, he can tell us all the truth under oath. And nothing but the truth this time.”

“No need.” Mr. Pitts shakes his head. “I’ll tell the truth. It’s true. My granddaughter, Meg, is sick, and now she’s being treated. Someone was kind enough to help.”

“In exchange for what?” Gina asks.

“Objection, Your Honor,” the prosecutor protests.

“I…” Mr. Pitts fidgets with the hem of his shirt.

“I know you’re worried about your granddaughter, Mr. Pitts,” Gina tells him. “I know you’d do anything to save her. But what good would that be if you made another person, an innocent person like my client, suffer?”

The prosecutor shakes his head. “Your Honor, what is this?”

The judge gives Gina a warning glance. “Counsel…”

“I… take back what I said,” Mr. Pitts says suddenly. “I’m not sure I saw…”

For a moment, his gaze meets mine.

“I’m not sure I saw anything. It was dark and I might have made a mistake. I…”

The prosecutor turns to face him. “Mr. Pitts!”

“Order!” Judge Vaughn smacks her gavel.

The room falls silent and those standing take their seats.

“I don’t know what’s going on here, but clearly, this is a waste of time,” the judge says. “I’m not going to waste another second. The charges against the accused are dismissed. This case is closed. Good day.”

She smacks her gavel one more time and leaves the room. The prosecutor bolts, too, seething in frustration and sneering at Mr. Pitts over his shoulder. The old man limps towards the exit with his head hanging low.