“They all ended badly.”
“That’s right,” Duffy said. “And at least two of your mother’s boyfriends that we know of were pedophiles.”
It wasn’t a question, so Joey didn’t answer.
“The jury will want to know what your mother’s state of mind was the night she killed Charles Baxter. So when I ask you ‘Why do you think your mother did it?’ you’ll have to give an answer. This will be framed as an opinion, so this is your opportunity to say exactly what you think, okay? So tell me. Why do you think she did it?”
Joey had given it a lot of thought, and the answer was difficult to articulate. Her mother had stabbed Charles because she was angry and couldn’t control her behavior. She wasn’t being a protective mother that night. When had she ever?
The truth was that the night she stabbed Charles, Ruby had been jealous. And Joey asked herself, if their situations were reversed, what would Ruby say?
And then she told Duffy exactly that.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
When Ruby’s trial began in Toronto, Tito Micky started keeping a scrapbook in Maple Sound of all the newspaper articles about it. He subscribed to all three of the major Toronto papers, and the scrapbook sat on the kitchen counter at all times. Joey never looked at it. Instead, she spent most of her time in the bedroom, reading.
Both Deborah and the crown attorney assured her that her name would never appear anywhere because she was a minor, but that was of little comfort. Anyone who knew Ruby knew she had a daughter. Ruby had always worn Joey like an accessory, showing her off when she wanted sympathy or admiration for being a single parent, and discarding her if she determined that Joey was a barrier to something she wanted.
Two days before her testimony, she was a bundle of nerves. She had spoken to Madeline Duffy on the phone twice after their initial meeting, and while she felt prepared, it scared her to imagine the jurors’ faces. Duffy explained that the courtroom would be closed to spectators and journalists, but that still left twelve pairs of ears in the jury box listening to every word she said and how she said it. Twelve pairs of eyes would be observing her body language, her facial expressions, her tears.
And her mother would be there. Watching.
“Remember that it’s all right to cry,” Duffy said during their last phone call. “Everyone in that room is on your side. It’s important to express what you feel.”
It was the exact same thing her mother had said, but what Duffy didn’t know was that Joey had been trained not to cry. There was little chance she’d be able to summon tears tomorrow, as much as the crown attorney was not so subtly asking her to.
“Joelle,” a soft voice said, and she looked up to find Tito Micky standing in the doorway of her bedroom.
She’d been so immersed in her novel that she hadn’t heard her uncle’s footsteps coming down the hallway. It was her third reread of Sidney Sheldon’s If Tomorrow Comes, her absolute favorite book, which was about a woman who’s framed for a crime she didn’t commit. When she finally gets out of prison, she becomes a professional thief who travels the world pulling off daring heists, changing her name and appearance whenever she needs to. And of course she gets revenge on the people who wronged her, and also falls in love along the way.
“You want to come with us into town?” Tito Micky asked. “Summer activities at the YMCA. I have to drive the boys.” Dribe da boys. “Afterward, you can help with the groceries. Now that you’re helping your lola with the cooking, she wants you to help with the shopping.”
In the daytime, her uncle was just a skinny man with a potbelly, not a monster lurking in the dark. Still, Joey couldn’t think of anything she’d rather do less. Alone in the car with Tito Micky? No thanks.
“After we do the shopping, I can drop you at the bookstore. And I’ll give you ten dollars to spend there. Good distraction, huh?” Her uncle attempted a charming smile, exposing a row of tobacco-stained teeth.
Wait. Ten dollars? That was a new release paperback with change to spare.
“Okay,” she said tentatively, sitting up.
“And while you’re at the bookstore, I can go to the sports pub across the street. There’s a baseball game on, and I’ve made a little bet about who will win.” Tito Micky winked. “Just don’t tell your tita.”
A few minutes later, Joey was sitting in the front seat of her uncle’s station wagon, excited. Only the two older boys were going to the YMCA that afternoon, as Carson had an upset tummy. After the boys were dropped off, she and Tito Micky headed to the supermarket. They finished the shopping quickly, and Tito Micky placed the meats and cheeses in the cooler he kept in the trunk. Then they headed over to Main Street.