Every Reasonable Doubt

by Pamela Samuels Young

  Detective Smith wrinkled his brow in surprise.

  “You think so?”

  “Hell, yes,” Neddy said. “That sister is definitely identifying with Tina. She’s probably had a man or two step out on her.”

  “And based on the attitude on her face,” I said, “I bet she’s banged a few of ‘em upside the head in her day.” We all laughed.

  “I don’t see it.” Detective Smith rested his hands on the table. “My money’s on Juror No. 8. She frowned every time Julie opened her mouth.” Juror No. 8 was a fortyish white woman.

  “Maybe,” Neddy said. “But did you see Juror No. 7’s face every time somebody talked about Max’s endless supply of women? She would roll her eyes and her lips would turn down in the corners in a little snit. I think she definitely thought Max deserved what he got.”

  Nobody laughed this time.

  “I just hope they don’t come back with a guilty verdict.” Neddy opened her menu, then closed it. “Tina’ll never make it in prison.”

  “Prison?” Detective Smith said. “I thought the prosecution filed this as a special-circumstances case. We need to be worried about the death penalty, don’t we?”

  “That was just a bluff,” Neddy replied. “Julie never mentioned it again after the arraignment.”

  We ordered and talked for a while longer, exchanging our views on various aspects of the trial. When a waitress set dishes of shrimp fried rice, kung pao chicken, egg rolls and beef with broccoli on the table in front of us, we all reached for a sample of each and ate in silence. In minutes we sat staring at empty plates.

  “Guess we were pretty hungry, huh?” Detective Smith said, looking stuffed, which was hard to do for a man his size.

  Neddy and I smiled at each other. It wouldn’t have been polite to point out to Detective Smith that he had gobbled down three-fourths of the food.

  “Well, if Tina is acquitted,” he said, “she owes her freedom to you two.” He squeezed Neddy’s forearm and grinned. “You’ve both done a helluva job.”

  Neddy raised her hands, palms outward. “Hold on,” she said. “She has David to thank. He was the one who scrutinized that autopsy report, which led to the discovery of Max’s aneurysm.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short,” Detective Smith insisted. “Even if you guys hadn’t discovered that evidence, the jury was already leaning your way.”

  I felt compelled to join in. “Neddy, Tina owes you a lot, too,” I said. “You tried the case under some pretty difficult circumstances and you never doubted her innocence. I don’t know if I could’ve held up the way you did with everything you’ve been going through.”

  I didn’t realize the irony of my words until they were already out. I had been carrying a pretty heavy burden myself. During the day, when the trial consumed my every thought, my marital woes remained somewhere in the distance, outside of my peripheral vision. But the minute I stepped through my front door, they came crashing back into focus. For a second, my thoughts lingered on Jefferson and I wondered what he was doing. Was he with another woman? I tried to shake that frightening image from my mind.

  “No matter how it goes,” I said, squeezing Neddy’s shoulder, “it’s been an incredible experience for me. I’ve definitely learned a lot from watching you these last few weeks.”

  “Hey, hold up,” Neddy said, forming a time-out signal with her hands. “You guys are into overkill now.”

  “Well, win or lose,” Detective Smith said, “Tina Montgomery couldn’t have had a better defense team.” He covered Neddy’s hand with his and she actually blushed.

  We chatted some more about our perceptions of some of the jurors while we waited for the check. Detective Smith stood up and headed for the men’s room, giving me a chance to talk to Neddy alone. I’d been noticing the sparks flying back and forth between the two of them and I was anxious to find out whether my instincts were right.

  “Is there something going on between you and the detective?” I asked.

  “What? What makes you say that?” The glow on her face contradicted her words.

  “Because the man is all over you. Every chance he gets, he reaches across the table to touch you. And he talks about you like you were God’s gift to the law.”

  Neddy smiled again. “You’re exaggerating. He complimented you, too.”

  “Yeah, but his eyes didn’t light up when he talked about me. And he didn’t pull out my chair when we sat down at the table like he did yours. Now I understand why we got all those investigation reports so quickly. He was trying to score points with you.”

  “You’re imagining things. Detective Smith has been totally professional. And after all I’ve been through, a man is the last thing on my mind right now. “

  “Yeah, okay,” I said skeptically. “I bet as soon as this trial is over, he’s going to be on you like white on rice.”

  “No way,” she said, but something in her eyes told me she wasn’t as opposed to that scenario as she was professing to be.

  “How’s Jefferson?” she asked.

  I briefly closed my eyes. “I wish I knew.”

  Neddy’s head involuntarily jerked backward. “What do you mean you wish you knew?”

  “I didn’t tell you, but Jefferson moved out.” I picked up the glass of water in front of me and took a quick sip.

  “Moved out!” Neddy exclaimed. “When? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. She was practically out of her seat. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. I came home one night and he was gone.” Tears began to well up in my eyes. “I knew he was upset about the trial taking up so much of my time, but I didn’t know he was that upset.”

  “I can’t believe this! When did he leave?”

  “It’s been over a week.”

  Neddy reached out and hugged me. Her embrace was a big comfort. “I can’t believe you’ve been dealing with that on top of the demands of this trial.”

  “I can’t believe it either. I miss him so much.” I dabbed at the corner of my eyes with my napkin.

  “Hang in there, girl,” Neddy said, encouragingly. “From what I’ve heard, it sounds like you’ve got yourself a good man. He’ll come to his senses.”

  “Well, I’m just giving him his space and hoping he does.”

  Detective Smith rushed up to us, snatched some money from his wallet and tossed it on the table. “The pager just went off,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  When we got back to the courtroom, it was empty except for Julie and Sandy, the court clerk, and the bailiff. Tina and David walked in a few seconds later. They had been across the street at a sandwich shop.

  Julie seemed to be purposely ignoring us. I made eye contact with Sandy but there was absolutely nothing to read in her bland brown eyes.

  The jury had been deliberating for just over two hours. I didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad one. Had they reached a verdict already? Maybe they wanted a portion of the transcript reread.

  After a few minutes, the clerk escorted us into the judge’s private chambers.

  The judge straightened the papers on her desk while we all scrambled for seats. The bailiff brought in an extra chair. Tina, Neddy and I took the couch, while David, Sandy and Julie sat in chairs, forming a semi-circle around the perimeter of the judge’s desk.

  The tiny room resembled a high school counselor’s office. It had rusty, metal-lined windows that opened with a crank, a couple of neglected house plants and an entire wall of bookshelves containing casebooks nobody opened anymore because the same information was more easily accessible online.

  My heart was racing. I could only imagine how Tina felt.

  “The jury has indicated that they’re deadlocked,” the judge said.

  Tina’s body wilted with relief. Neddy looked over at me, her eyes flashing victory. We would have preferred an acquittal, but we’d take our win any way we could get it.

  Julie could barely contain herself. “Your Honor, the jury hasn’t even deliberated for a full day
yet. They’re probably just anxious to go home. I would strongly urge you to instruct them to continue with their deliberations to see if they can reach a verdict.”

  Judge Graciano frowned at her. “If you had let me finish, you would’ve learned that that is exactly what I intend to do. I’d never dismiss a jury in a case of this magnitude after such a brief deliberation. I just wanted to give you all advance notice of my decision.”

  The judge leaned back in her chair. “The jury’s been consumed with this case for quite some time and they probably just need a break. I’m calling a recess for the day and having them resume their deliberations tomorrow morning at nine.”

  CHAPTER 65

  I decided to take a couple of much-deserved days off while we awaited the jury’s verdict. The downtime was long overdue, but it allowed my every thought to linger on my husband. It felt like I had a big hole in my heart. I missed Jefferson desperately.

  I was trying as hard as I could to follow Special’s advice. Jefferson wanted space and I was giving it to him. But the house was like a mausoleum without him.

  When we were first married, we would occasionally play hooky from work and lie in bed and watch cartoons. I turned on the Cartoon Network, which had our favorite lineup, but for some reason, Scooby Doo wasn’t as funny without Jefferson’s play-by-play.

  To keep myself from calling Jefferson, I dialed Special’s office.

  “Hey, want to go see a movie after you get off from work?”

  She was munching on something crunchy. “Since when do you have time to see a movie during a weekday?”

  “Since we closed yesterday and the jury’s deliberating.”

  “Sorry, homey. Have to go get my wig done when I get off and you know Shawnta’s going to have me up in there half the night,” Special said. “So what you think? Is homegirl going to get off?”

  “Hope so,” I said. “And stop saying ‘get off.’ It makes it sound like she’s getting away with something.”

  “You know that heffa killed her husband.”

  “I’m going to ignore that comment because you’re my friend.”

  We gossiped about the trial for a few minutes, then I turned to the real reason for my call. “Special, I really think it’s time for me to call Jefferson and ask him to come home.”

  “Don’t do it,” she warned. “That would definitely be a mistake. It hasn’t even been that long yet.”

  “Yes, it has. It’ll be two weeks on Saturday. This is nuts.”

  “He ain’t called you at all?”

  “He called me a few days ago, but only to tell me he read about the Montgomery trial in the newspaper.”

  “Girl, you ain’t reading between the lines,” Special said. “That brother didn’t call to talk about that case. He called to talk to you and the case was the only way he could do it and still keep his balls.”

  “Yeah, but we’re still exactly where we were when he left. I’m going to call him and ask him if he wants to see a movie.”

  “No!” Special ordered. “Let the brother stew a little bit longer. He’s got to really miss your ass. Just give it one more week.”

  One more week? There was no way I could hold out that long.

  I hung up and called Neddy’s house, but she didn’t answer. She had decided to take a few days off, too. I decided not to leave a message. I hoped she was out with Detective Smith having a good time.

  I stayed in bed until one o’clock and then went to 24-Hour Fitness to work out. On the way home, I rented a couple of DVDs and spent a lonely evening watching two of my favorite movies, Splendor in the Grass with Warren Beatty and Natalie Wood, and Friday with Ice Cube and Chris Tucker. A sad love story to bring me down and a hilarious comedy to take me back up. I ate a whole bag of Pepperidge Farm Chocolate Chunk cookies and half a container of Haagen-Dazs Chocolate Chocolate Chip ice cream. If Jefferson stayed away too long my hips were going to be as wide as our living room.

  From force of habit, I woke up around six the next morning and vowed not to spend another day moping around. I decided to devote the morning to some of the tasks I’d neglected around the house. First on the list was going through my closet and getting rid of all the old clothes I never wore. Jefferson constantly complained about my over-stuffed closet and the fact that I didn’t wear half of the clothes I owned. Luckily, we had separate closets. I began stuffing worn-looking blouses and pants that no longer fit into a large, plastic garbage bag that I planned to drop off at the Goodwill. When the bag was full, I decided to store it in Jefferson’s closet, which wasn’t nearly as packed as mine.

  The second I clicked on the light, the empty space in front of me almost brought me to my knees. I rarely had a reason to enter Jefferson’s closet and the last time I had, just after he’d moved out, only a few items were missing. But he’d apparently been back within the last few days because only a few items remained: a couple pair of pants which were too tight in the waist, and a bright green shirt, which I knew he hated. He’d taken everything else.

  I walked out of the closet, ran over to the dresser we shared, and checked his drawers. They were empty. All of them. I sat down on the side of the bed as tears began to roll down my cheeks. He’d taken all of his clothes because he wasn’t coming back. Special was wrong. Jefferson wasn’t trying to teach me a lesson. He’d never been one to play games. That was what I liked about him from the start. He always put his cards on the table. There was no way I was going to reel him back home.

  Without thinking about it, I picked up the telephone and dialed Jefferson’s cell phone. He answered groggily, which surprised me. He should’ve been at work.

  “Good morning,” I said.

  “What time is it?” He sounded annoyed at being disturbed.

  “After nine,” I said.

  I was disappointed that he didn’t sound glad to hear from me. “I just wanted to talk,” I said.

  “About what?”

  “About us.”

  He didn’t say anything at first. “Uh, my head’s not on straight right now. I was out pretty late last night. How ‘bout if we do this some other time?”

  The rejection hit me hard. “No problem,” I said, quickly hanging up the phone.

  This time, I was too shocked to cry. Out pretty late last night. It was a weeknight. Had he already moved on that fast? Jealousy filled my head with visions of some sleek young body lying in bed next to him. That was probably the only reason he couldn’t talk.

  This was crazy. We loved each other. There was no reason Jefferson shouldn’t be lying in bed next to me. The truth was, he was devastated about being sterile and blaming everything on my career.

  I tried to get angry at him, but there was too much fear in my heart for any fury to take hold. I wanted my husband back. But short of begging him to come home, I had absolutely no idea how to get him there.

  CHAPTER 66

  After a few days off, I was anxious to get back to work. It was simply too lonely at home. This was the jury’s fourth day of deliberation and we were beginning to worry. I had just dropped by Neddy’s office to chat when the court clerk called, notifying us that the jury had reached a verdict. The judge wanted everybody back in the courtroom by ten o’clock. Neddy, David and I all piled into Neddy’s BMW. Detective Smith agreed to pick up Tina.

  Once both sides had arrived, Judge Graciano wasted no time calling things to order. A heavy tension filled the air as the jurors filed back into the jury box. As a group, they seemed anxious to get to their seats. None of them made eye contact with anyone, not even each other. Juror No. 7 had her lips formed into a severe frown. The same position they’d been in during most of Garrett Bryson’s testimony. I didn’t know whether that was a bad sign for us or the prosecution.

  The judge asked both sides to rise. I nervously shot up out of my chair, which made a loud screeching sound. It would have tumbled to the ground if I hadn’t grabbed it in time. I felt everyone staring in my direction.

  “Jury foreman, have you re
ached a verdict?” Judge Graciano asked.

  “Yes we have?”

  Juror No. 11, the only African-American male on the panel, turned out to be the jury foreperson. I definitely wouldn’t have predicted that, and in my mind, it didn’t bode well for Tina. We watched as he passed a sheet of paper to the court clerk, who passed it to Judge Graciano. She briefly read it and handed it back to the court clerk, who passed it back to the foreman. The eyes of the entire courtroom tracked the path of the paper holding Tina Montgomery’s fate as it floated from one hand to another to another.

  I was wearing a new pair of extra-pointy-toed pumps and my feet hurt. I gingerly shifted my body weight, trying not to attract more unwanted attention. I was on the end, closest to the prosecution table, next to Neddy. Our arms touched, but we were mentally oblivious to the physical contact. Tina was flanked on one side by Neddy and on the other by David. I looked over and saw that Julie’s posture had lost its former haughtiness but her head was still held high, her chin jutted slightly outward, signaling a contrived confidence. A newcomer to the room might have assumed that Julie was the one on trial. Sandy was completely obscured from my view by Julie’s leggy frame.

  “In the matter of The People versus Tina Montgomery,” the jury foreman began, “we find the defendant, Tina Montgomery…not guilty of the charge of murder in the first degree.”

  A combination of cheers, groans, and claps swept across the courtroom. Tina’s head snapped backward, as if she were looking up to God, then fell low to her chest and she began to sob. David and Neddy simultaneously embraced her. Without even thinking about it, I reached over and grabbed her hand, taking it into mine and squeezing it hard.

  A rush of pent-up emotions impaled my body. I wanted to cry, too, but the tears did not fall. This ordeal was finally over and we had accomplished the task we’d been paid to perform. But what had I accomplished? Another feather in my professional cap. One that would surely lead to partnership and a coveted place among a list of very select attorneys. Would it be worth it?