They were, but Jason tried to calm her. “They’re probably tired.”
“Nice try.”
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you will be the ones who decide this case. We’re going to adjourn for the day. Please report back to the jury room at 8:30 in the morning.” Conrad banged his gavel, announcing the close of the day.
Jason leaned in and kissed Jana on the cheek as the guards took her away. He’d played up his relationship to his client during voir dire, saying my sister several times during the proceeding to gain the potential jurors’ sympathies.
Based on their faces, he didn’t think he was making much progress in that regard.
But they’re tired, he told himself, shaking his head. Nice try.
62
Jason headed straight to the office. He practiced his opening statement with his partners a couple of times and then declared he’d had enough. He was dog tired, and Izzy and Harry were out of ideas. They’d have to go with what they had and let it ride. He would try to take down Pike on cross-examination and then hope the jury bought the Maples-Cowan alternative.
He wanted to go home, but he also knew that sometimes what he needed and wanted were two different things. He drove to Guntersville High School and took his place in the circle in room 21. When his turn came, he shared that the stress over the trial was triggering him to drink. He used to always have a few after a deposition or hearing. This was his first trial, and he’d just spent seven hours picking a jury for the first time in his life. He badly wanted a couple of beers or a whiskey drink to take the edge off. There were sympathetic looks and words of encouragement along with advice for getting past the trigger. Go for a walk. Talk with friends. Get to bed early.
All of it made sense, but Jason knew he was easing away from the trigger by simply being present and checking this box. He’d made one meeting a week now for two months and was nearly halfway to finishing the twelve steps. He was currently on number five, admitting his wrongs to himself and another person. He was moving slow, but everyone had their own pace.
When the meeting was over, several folks slapped him on the back as he walked to his car, his mind drifting to his neighbor. Jason hadn’t seen Chase at any of the meetings since his first one. She’d told him that she needed to go to another class, so she went on Wednesdays, and he went on Mondays. They held each other accountable, but they also kept things separate. Jason knew the reason for the separation, but it still hurt him.
I’m a trigger for her, he thought as he drove home to Mill Creek.
Home. Jason wasn’t sure if that was the right sentiment or not. He was on a bridge between two lives, and the outcome of Jana’s trial was going to determine whether he crossed to the other side or returned to where he’d been.
He wanted to cross, but he was afraid. Fear had always been a motivator for him. Of failure. Of embarrassment. Of disappointment.
With the trial looming in his consciousness, he realized he was scared to death.
Jason, Nola, Niecy, and Chase had dinner together on the patio. Niecy had made spaghetti, which was delicious, while Nola peppered him with questions about the trial. Was he happy with the jury? How long would it last? Who would be the state’s first witness?
Jason answered as best he could, though for most of her questions, the response was “I don’t know.” Since the girls were potential witnesses, they would be excluded from the courtroom up until they were called to the stand. Chase had volunteered to stay with them tomorrow, and Jason was grateful for her help and presence.
When it was time for bed, Nola gave Jason a big hug and thanked him for all he was doing. She cried a little, and then went downstairs to bed. Niecy also gave him a hug. She’d been noticeably warmer since the assault by Cade’s men. As she, too, took the stairs, she looked back and asked him the question that hung in the air all the time.
“Do you think my mom killed my dad?” Simple. Direct. No bullshit. It was a dagger, and Jason wondered how many times both girls would ask that question the rest of their lives. To themselves. Their friends. Therapists. Whether the case was won or lost this week, the question would remain.
“No,” Jason said.
She looked as if she was going to say more, but she didn’t. Her eyes glistened, and then she continued to walk down the stairs.
Jason walked Chase across the short distance to her house, and they stopped outside the door.
“Good luck tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” He slowly leaned in for a kiss, and she did as well. Then she turned away and closed the door. Their relationship hadn’t escalated since dinner at the Docks. They talked. They took rides on the Sea-Doo and kayaks. And they kissed.