Murder in the Courthouse. Nancy Grace
Hailey couldn’t help but notice the pleased look on DelVecchio’s face. Was he happy the judge was reprimanding him? Or happy he had already gotten the jury to view his client, not Julie Love and Lily, as the victim?
Hailey stood up and slipped out of the courtroom. She took the stairs located at the end of the corridor outside swinging doors to the court. Quickly heading down five flights to the courthouse lobby, past the lines waiting at metal detectors, she pushed through the gigantic front doors of the Chatham County Courthouse, and out into the fresh, salty air.
Hailey breathed it in in big gulps. She hadn’t realized the mental images, much less the feelings . . . the raw emotions, being in a criminal court would bring back.
Instead of homing in on exactly what was being said with a razor-sharp focus, her mind had drifted . . . back . . . back to her days in countless felony courtrooms where she had prosecuted the worst of the worst. Fleeting moments of trials, courtroom arguments, crying victims, and blood-spattered crime scenes gave way to other memories.
Memories of Will’s murder . . . the trial at which she was a witness . . . the sound of her boots as she stepped down several steps from the witness stand to leave following her testimony . . . the sad look in the jurors’ eyes as they watched her . . . passing the defense table where she saw Will’s bloody denim shirt lying there. She recognized it and in a blur . . . a numb blur . . . she looked into the face of the defense attorney, seated there beside his client . . . Will’s killer.
They both immediately looked down into their laps. They couldn’t even look her in the face.
Even now . . . years later . . . she wanted to go back to that courtroom. She wanted to grab Will’s denim shirt and run away with it . . . to save it from the defense team . . . to keep them from touching it . . . ever.
Looking out blankly at traffic in front of the courthouse . . . it all came flooding back. Her face was hot. Tears sprang up in her eyes. She clutched the wrought iron handrail flanking the stone steps leading to the courthouse entrance.
Why would I want Will’s bloody shirt? She almost said it out loud. It didn’t make sense. And how was she going to sit through another murder trial if she’d be affected like this?
Just then, Hailey felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned.
It was Fincher.
“I saw you leave the courtroom.”
“Shouldn’t you be up there? They may call you as a witness.”
“Ha. With the show DelVecchio’s putting on, it’ll be days before they call me. Plus, I overheard one of the bailiffs tell the prosecutor that the judge was recessing for the day. He’s so mad at DelVecchio, he thinks it’s best to start opening statements in the morning when things cool down a little. If there is a conviction, and that’s a big if, nobody wants a reversal because of angry words from the bench. So we’re done. For today, anyway.”
The two headed across the street to the lot where the rental car Hailey got at the hotel was parked. “Want a ride? I’m heading over to Alton Turner’s place to check it out.”
“Alton Turner? Are you back on that? Why? Does Billings know?” Finch didn’t sound as if he thought this was such a great idea.
“I don’t know what you mean by ‘back on that,’ but whatever that means, I absolutely am ‘back on it.’ I don’t find a severed body and just forget about it. It doesn’t work that way with me.”
“I’m afraid it doesn’t,” Finch fired back, rolling his eyes.
“I’ve got a gut feeling if something doesn’t give, they’ll chalk it up as an accident. You know, take the path of least resistance. I really think a second look with fresh eyes might help. Know what I mean?”
“Fresh eyes. Oh yeah, I think I do know what that means.” Risking her wrath, he went on, “You do know this is not your jurisdiction and it’s not your case, Hailey.”
Hailey gave him a withering glare in response. He didn’t wither. Instead, he just looked right back at her.
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