Fifteen minutes later Grace was in the witness box with a criminal case file on her lap and looking like she could spit fire.
I was truly going to enjoy this.
“How long have you worked in the Bain County Clerk’s office?” asked Lucas.
“Thirty-two years.”
“And you are currently the acting clerk?”
“Yes, until a new clerk gets sworn in. Whenever that is.” A few chuckles percolated up from the gallery.
“Were you at work on Election Day this past November?”
“Yes. I served as the bench clerk in this very courtroom in a criminal prosecution.”
“And before I forget—did you vote on Election Day?” Lucas asked as he straightened his tie.
“I voted absentee. I usually do that because I can never be sure that I’ll have time to get away to vote. I could be needed by the court.”
“So you didn’t leave the courthouse on Election Day to go vote?” Lucas asked.
“No,” Grace said, shaking her head. “I did not have the time.”
“About that criminal case that was tried on Election Day—do you have that file with you today?”
“Yes,” Grace replied and glanced at the file in her lap.
“Your honor,” interrupted Rhodes and stood to address the court. “Where are we going with this?”
“You’ll see very quickly,” Lucas said.
“Proceed,” Judge McDowell said without taking his gaze from the witness.
“Who tried the case on behalf of the commonwealth?”
“Greer Galloway, the woman sitting next to you. And she was the only prosecutor. No co-counsel.” I sensed a little dig at my former boss in Grace’s answer.
“Was Ms. Galloway in the courtroom before trial began?”
“Yes, she was, perhaps about five minutes or so.”
“How long was that trial?”
“We went on the record at exactly 8:02 in the morning. We took two breaks in the morning, both no longer than seven minutes, according to the log.”
“You have the log?” the judge asked.
“Yes, your honor,” Grace said.
“Hand it up,” Judge McDowell demanded.
Grace did as instructed, and Judge McDowell put on his reading glasses.
“Short lunch break, too, only twenty minutes?” Judge McDowell asked Grace.
“Yes. The parties thought they could finish, so they pressed on and only had a short break.”
The judge looked at the log once more. “But that didn’t happen, looks like.”
“No, it did not.”
“And only two more five-minute breaks after lunch, then a ten-minute break right before the jury was charged and sent out at 7:11 in the evening.” He paused and lowered the log. “Whew,” he said. “That’s a long day.”
“You know it,” Grace said, smiling at the judge.
He grinned back.
Was she flirting with the man—or just putting on a really good act?
“Was Ms. Galloway in court during that entire trial, on behalf of the commonwealth, except for those breaks?” Lucas asked.
“Yes, she was.”
“Do you know where she was during that twenty-minute lunch?”
“Yes. When court was adjourned, we—um—went to the ladies room at the same time,” Grace stammered, drawing some giggles from the audience. “After we left the bathroom together, she got something out of the vending machines and came back to the clerk’s office with me.”
“Wait just a minute,” Judge McDowell interrupted, looking irritated. He leaned forward in his seat, took off his glasses and threw them down. “What you’re saying, madam clerk, is that on Election Day, you were in the presence of the defendant in this very courtroom or some other place in this courthouse during almost the entire day?”
“That’s right. From eight in the morning until—”
“Until Judge Winslow charged the jury and sent them out at a little after seven,” he said, finishing her sentence as he held up the log. “After the polls had already closed.”
“After the jury had been sent out, I asked Ms. Galloway whether she’d voted. She said no, that she didn’t have time. She told me that her precinct had been moved from Bain Creek Elementary—which is just a few blocks from here—out to the high school, which is a few miles out of town. Can’t easily or quickly walk out there.”
Then Grace opened the file on her lap and slipped out a DVD. She held it up for the judge to see.
“This is the official video record of the entire criminal trial that took place on Election Day. You can see Ms. Galloway throughout the proceeding.”
“Thank you, but I don’t think that will be necessary,” the judge said. His mood had darkened.
“No further questions at this time, your honor,” Lucas said and took his seat.
“Your witness, counsel,” the judge said to Rhodes. He practically barked out the words.
Rhodes asked Grace some questions about the twenty-minute lunch we took. He tried to poke holes in her story that she had been with me during almost all that time.
It didn’t work. And in the time we actually weren’t together—which could not have been more than five minutes—it was still not enough time for me to rush out of the courthouse, vote (even at the closest polling place), solicit the votes of others, and return.
“But the first time you saw the defendant that day was only at eight in the morning, correct?”
“A few minutes shortly before, yes.”
“So Ms. Galloway could have been at the polling place before that time?”
“That is possible, but according to your witnesses they saw her later in the day so—”
“I’m asking the questions, thank you,” he said.
Grace stiffened, then pursed her lips.
“You hired the defendant as a deputy clerk shortly after it was known the election results would not be certified, is that correct?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Why did you do that?”
“Because I had been named acting clerk and that made us one person short. And Greer was out of a job herself.”
“I see,” he said, rubbing his chin. “Now, if the defendant becomes the clerk, do you hope to remain go back to your old job as deputy clerk?”
“Yes, if she’ll have me.”
“The person you gave a job when she herself was out of a job?”
Lucas started to object, but I put my hand on his arm.
“Let her take that one.”
Grace unpursed her lips and broke into laughter.
“You think—” she couldn’t continue for several seconds.
I had never seen her laugh so hard.
“Sorry, judge,” she said, taking a tissue from a box sitting to her right and dabbing at her eyes.
“Take your time,” he said, amused by her outburst.
“You think I gave her a job because I’m trying to save my own skin? Didn’t you hear me? I’ve got thirty-two years in the court system, honey. Count ‘em—thirty-two. I could’ve retired five years ago. In fact, I’m making the same salary that I’d be drawing if I retired. I don’t need the job.”
The courtroom erupted in raucous laughter, but the judge soon called court back to order.
“But you value something there, something you want to protect—you must—otherwise you wouldn’t want to stay,” counsel tried to argue.
“I do value something. But it isn’t money, as you incorrectly imply.”
“Then enlighten us, why don’t you?” he sniped.
“I still come to work every day—even though from an economic point of view it’s nuts—for the same reason the judge chooses to wear the robe. It’s my duty. I’m here to serve. It’s my job, I know how to do it and I do it well. I’m cranky, I won’t deny that. But I get the job done. And as long as people will have me around, and my health will let me, I’m going to be there doing my proper job.
“And let me tell you another thing.” She moved to the edge of her chair as she wagged a finger, “I hired Greer not only because she’s more than competent but because I knew that she felt the duty, too. She didn’t want to leave her job prosecuting—that money mysteriously dried up,” she said, stealing a look at Lester. “She’s been right here in this courthouse, in this community, trying to do what she’s supposed to do.”
“And just what is that?” Rhodes dared to ask.
“The right thing, which is something at least one of your witnesses here today has never been able to do,” Grace said, her eyes fixed on Lester.
The gallery burst into applause. I kept my head down, and let the tears fall into my lap.
After Judge McDowell called the court back to order, he addressed Rhodes.
“I take it you’re finished, counsel?” he asked.
Rhodes sat and the courtroom fell silent. I caught a glimpse of Lester on the opposite side of the courtroom. He had his hands clasped in his lap and looked remarkably unperturbed at being publicly proven a liar.
Oh, wait. He was a perjurer too. Lied under oath about material information.
And that was a felony. No misdemeanor stuff like ginseng poaching out in the sticks.
And felonies often led to disbarment.
“Ten minute break,” Judge McDowell announced. He rose and headed into Judge Winslow’s chambers, followed by his bench clerk.
“Stay here,” Lucas instructed. “I need to go talk to Judge Winslow for a moment.”
As Lucas left, my family came forward and offered hugs and encouragement.
“You’re gonna win,” my mother said. Sophie nodded in agreement.
“If he does dismiss it, then what? Does that make you clerk?” my father asked.
“No,” Sophie said. “Even if the judge dismisses the case, they can still appeal.”
We all groaned. That possibility had not even crossed my mind.
My parents returned to their seats, and Lucas reappeared at counsel table.
“It’s going to be okay,” Lucas said, patting me on the back.
After a little longer than ten minutes, Judge McDowell and his bench clerk returned.
“After hearing the testimony,” Judge McDowell began, “the court is convinced that there is absolutely no proof to sustain the allegations of the complaint, and that a little bit of investigation before filing would have made that clear. In fact, the court is seriously troubled by some of the testimony today.” He paused and sat up in his chair, looking out into the gallery. “Is Mr. Logan still here?”
Everyone turned to look where Lester had been sitting, but he was nowhere to be found.
“How convenient,” Judge McDowell said. “At any rate, I advise the parties on the record right now that in my judicial capacity I have an obligation to report certain professional misconduct by attorneys to the powers that be, and I feel that obligation in this case in regarding today’s testimony. I don’t think I need to explain myself further on that point. Therefore, this case will be dismissed,” he announced, producing a smattering of clapping.
He paused for it to pass, then continued, holding up a piece of paper.
“I drafted an order back in chambers dismissing, so it could be entered right away so as to get this woman get sworn in as clerk. Then I recalled that plaintiff can appeal and drag this thing out further. But faced with this lack of proof, I don’t see how you can be successful, Mr. Blanchard. It might even be a frivolous appeal. I know that’s not really for me to say, but you might want to think about that.”
“Your honor,” Rhodes said, rising to address the court, “during the break I conferred with my client, Ms. May. We will not appeal a dismissal order.”
“I see,” Judge McDowell said. He took the order, signed it, and looked out into the audience. “Ms. Short, please approach the bench.”
Grace rose and, without displaying any concern or curiosity, went forward until she stood directly before the bench in the well of the court.
Judge McDowell put the order he signed on top of a file, and handed it to his bench clerk, who in turn passed it to Grace.
“Madam Clerk, please enter this order at once.”
“My pleasure, judge,” Grace said as she took the order from the bench clerk.
Then I heard Judge Winslow’s voice from the back of the courtroom.
“If it pleases the court, may I approach?” he asked.
“Of course,” Judge McDowell replied.
All eyes watched as Judge Winslow silently marched up the center aisle of the gallery and stood before his own bench.
“If it pleases this honorable court, I request the honor of administering the oath of office to Ms. Galloway. She was my law clerk several years back and she honorably practiced for several years before me in this very courtroom. Also, as I believe almost everyone in this courtroom knows, Ms. Galloway saved my life last year out in front of this courthouse.” He turned and pointed at me. “And don’t you dare deny that, Greer.”
“That motion is granted,” Judge McDowell said.
“Come on up here, Greer,” Judge Winslow said. Trembling, I complied and took a place opposite him a few feet away. “Raise your right hand.”
He swore me in, right there, reciting the entire oath from memory. It took only a minute.
“Congratulations, Madam Clerk,” he said, shaking my hand but then pulling me into a hug.
“And we are adjourned, folks,” Judge McDowell announced as applause erupted.
A scrum of people swiftly materialized about me, led by Lucas and Sophie and closely followed by my family, then courthouse personnel like Nellie and the sheriff. Arms flew around me, and tears flowed—from the others, not me.
I was strangely calm, content even.
It was over.
My parents insisted on a celebratory lunch at the lodge, and I could not refuse them. I told them to go ahead, along with Lillian; I would get a ride with Lucas or Sophie.
I went back to the clerk’s office—my office—and found Grace behind her desk working at her computer. As I got my coat, I asked Grace to join us at the lodge.
“Is Lillian going?” she asked.
“Yes,” I answered, confused. Grace and Lillian knew each other, but they were only acquaintances.
“Excellent.” Grace pulled a disk from her computer and held it up. “I can give her this.”
“What is it?”
Grace shrugged into her coat and flung her purse over her shoulder. She came out from behind the counter with the disk in her hand.
“This is a certified copy of today’s hearing. I figured she might as well get it now since the judge is going to report Lester.” She grinned in a wonderfully knowing, wicked way.
My arms flew around Grace so quickly that I knocked both of us off balance and we almost went tumbling to the floor together.
When she didn’t immediately return the embrace, I mentally kicked myself for making her uncomfortable. Maybe I’d overestimated her regard for me. Or just her comfort level with the whole hugging thing.
But then that scrap of a woman hugged me back so hard it downright hurt.