A Wish and a Prayer (18 page)

After a few minutes of back-and-forth, and viewing a bunch of old-school R&B male groups on YouTube via Trent's laptop, they narrowed it down.

“I say we go with the Temptations,” Jack said.

The decision was unanimous. They decided on which song they'd do and, with help from the videos, began rehearsing.

Chapter 20

O
n Monday morning, Riley arrived at the courthouse and was pleased by all the activity going on out front. Chanting demonstrators carrying signs featuring Cletus's picture and slogans supporting his case marched up and down the sidewalk, while scores of media people took pictures and did interviews. Vans bearing the logos of news outlets from as far away as Lawrence were parked along the curb. Heather Quinn promised him FUFA would get Cletus some publicity, and damned if they hadn't. He'd paid particular attention to his attire for the hearing. His suit was cleaned and pressed, and he'd dusted off his fake red carnation and placed it in his lapel. In his mind the day would be a momentous one, and when it was over, he was certain he and his hog would be reunited and he'd need to look good on the national news.

After parking his truck in the lot, he got out. There stood Ms. Quinn, waiting for him, just as she'd said she'd be when they talked on the phone last night. He assumed the tall older woman with the short gray hair standing with her was the FUFA lawyer she'd also mentioned.

Quinn nodded a greeting. “Good morning, Mr. Curry. I want you to meet Pat Starks, our lawyer.”

Riley shook her hand, and they exchanged a few pleasantries and began the walk to the courthouse. As they mounted the steps, they were swarmed by the press. Riley stopped to take questions, only to be pushed ahead by a strong hand he assumed belonged to the lawyer. “Mr. Curry has no comment at this time!” she announced crisply.

He glared at her over his shoulder. She glared right back, so he kept moving. As soon as the hearing was over, he planned on holding a press conference, whether she approved of him doing so or not.

The lobby was almost as crowded as it had been outside. There were no demonstrators marching around, but there were plenty of media folks, uniformed deputies, and a number of people lined up to take seats once the courtroom's doors were opened. He saw a contingent of Henry Adams people in the center of the line, chief among them his ex-wife Genevieve, who shot him a withering look, but he pretended not to know her and turned away. He assumed she'd be testifying on behalf of the county. He hoped she knew she had to tell the truth.

The doors opened a few minutes later, and everyone filed in. He took a seat at one of the tables up front with Heather and the unsmiling lawyer Starks, who leaned over and said, “Don't say anything unless you're directly asked, Mr. Curry.”

Liking her less and less, he responded with a terse nod.

At the other table were the county people, and Dr. Keegan was with them. None of them said hello, so Riley didn't either and instead thought about the judge. Although he and Cletus had been on the lam at the time, he'd heard through the grapevine that the presiding judge for the hearing, Amy Davis, was the same judge who'd let Bernadine Brown's junior felons off the hook the night they carjacked Mal July's truck during their first summer in town. She'd also approved the legal adoptions of the little hoodlums by their bleeding-heart foster parents. Granted, none of that had anything to do with Cletus's case, but it made him think she might be more inclined to side against his hog because she obviously liked Ms. Brown and her people, and none of them liked Cletus. He was counting on Heather Quinn and the lawyer to make sure there was no judicial hanky-panky.

The court bailiff, a hefty woman in a brown uniform, made everyone stand, and Judge Davis entered the room. Davis took her seat, and those in attendance followed suit.

She looked around the packed courtroom. “Now, before we start these proceedings, let me say to the lawyers, since this is not a formal judicial hearing, I will allow some leeway, but I expect decorum from both sides at all times.”

She then addressed the courtroom. “And anyone causing a ruckus will be escorted out. Am I clear?”

Everyone nodded, including the FUFAs wearing the pig masks and the ones sporting rubber hog noses.

“All right, the county may present its case for the euthanization of the hog owned by Mr. Curry.”

“His name's Cletus, Your Honor,” Riley called.

Snickers were heard.

“Thank you, Mr. Curry. Cletus,” she said, amending herself.

The FUFA lawyer shot him a look of disbelief, but he ignored it.

The assistant prosecutor, a young man named Matt Mingus, stood and laid out the facts surrounding the demise of Morton Prell. He referenced the coroner's report that found asphyxiation to be the cause of death. “Mr. Prell died from being crushed against the living room wall of the Currys' home by the hog. Here are pictures taken by the first responders of how Mr. Prell looked when they entered the home.”

“Did you give the defense copies of these?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

She viewed the three pictures of what Riley knew to be Cletus, lying against the wall with the dead Prell hanging over his back, limp as a rag doll. If the sight impacted the judge, it didn't show on her face.

Mr. Mingus continued. “The hog has a nasty temper, Your Honor, corroborated in the sworn statement of Mr. Curry's ex-wife, Mrs. Genevieve Curry.”

He handed her the statement, and she looked out and said, “Mrs. Curry, stand, please.”

As Genevieve complied, Riley's lip curled distastefully.

“This says the hog bit you. Was this often?”

“Yes, Your Honor. Very often.”

“It was your perfume!” Riley cried, jumping to his feet in challenge.

Genevieve shouted back, “Say that to me one more time, Riley Curry, and I swear I'll hit you so hard, they'll find you in China!”

The cheers of her supporters were countered by FUFA boos, and the judge banged her gavel. “Quiet!”

You could hear a pin drop.

“Another outburst, and I'm clearing the courtroom.”

When she seemed certain that everyone understood, she turned her attention back to Genevieve. “Thank you, Ms. Curry. You may take your seat. Now, Mr. Mingus, why did the hog sit on Mr. Prell? Was it an accident?”

“He hit Cletus over the head with a chair leg,” Riley told her before Mingus could reply. “And every sentient being has the right to defend itself when faced with violence.”

He thought he saw a smile play at the edges of the judge's lips, but he felt pretty good having used the ten-dollar word.

“Is this true, Mr. Mingus?”

“We only have Mr. Curry's testimony. No one was there, Your Honor.”

“I was there. Ask Mal July about the cuts on Cletus's head.”

Judge Davis looked around until she spotted July. “Mr. July, is that true?”

It was easy to see that Mal stood reluctantly. “Yes, Your Honor. The hog had a series of wounds that were stitched up by the county vet after they transported him from the scene.”

Davis asked Dr. Keegan, “Is that correct?”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Keegan didn't look happy

The FUFA lawyer finally found an opening in which to say, “Your Honor, nasty temper or not, the hog was abused by Mr. Prell, and therefore entitled to defend itself.”

Mingus argued, “The hog is a menace and a threat to public safety.”

The judge asked, “Other than his penchant for biting, has the hog ever killed anyone before?”

“Not that the county is aware of,” Mingus admitted.

“Mr. Curry?”

“No, ma'am, Your Honor. Never.”

“Mr. Mingus, did you know about the stitches?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Did you take them into consideration when you signed off on the euthanization documents?”

“No, ma'am. We didn't deem it necessary. He killed a man, Judge Davis.”

“That's already been established, Mr. Mingus. But the court's issue is with the fairness of your decision.”

Mingus didn't appear to have a response to that, and Riley wanted to cheer.

“Mr. Mingus, does the county have anything else to present before I render my verdict?”

Genevieve stood up and said angrily, “Judge Davis, because of Riley and that hog, I have no home! It was condemned. Where's the fairness in that!”

Judge Davis kept her face void of emotion. “The court would advise you to speak with a legal representative to explore your options, Ms. Curry.”

Riley saw Genevieve plop down into her seat and fold her arms angrily. Again, he wanted to cheer, and stick his tongue out at her for good measure, but the bridge of his nose began to throb as if to remind him of what had happened the last time he did that, so he returned his attention to the judge.

“Does anyone have anything else?”

It appeared as if no one did, so she said, “My ruling is this: The county will surrender Cletus to Mr. Curry, and—”

The FUFAs began cheering. Riley jumped up and hugged Heather Quinn.

The judge was banging her gavel.

When silence returned, she finished. “On these conditions: The hog is forbidden to come in contact with the general public, and Mr. Curry, that means no community cookouts or parades or any other event where people gather. If you have to take Cletus anywhere, it has to be in your vehicle, and he must stay there. Any violations, and you will go to jail, Mr. Curry. Do you understand?”

“I do, Your Honor. Thank you!”

“You're welcome. The case of
The City of Franklin vs. Bernadine Brown
will begin in thirty minutes.”

She banged the gavel to close the proceedings.

Riley was ecstatic. He thanked Heather Quinn once again, and all the FUFAs who'd supported him. As he stood there, receiving their congratulations, he saw Genevieve staring his way. He shot her a big grin and did stick out his tongue. She lunged but was restrained by Marie Jefferson. Riley grinned and let himself be swept out of the courtroom by the happy FUFAs.

Once they were outside on the steps, the press was waiting. Riley straightened his shoulders and took the first question.

Inside, Bernadine looked over at Mal, seated beside her. He shook his head before saying, “Guess Cletus isn't going to be on a spit after all.”

“Guess not, but at least Judge Davis spared us from having to put up with him in town.”

“Too bad the county didn't have a stronger case, but when you think about it, Judge Davis was right. You can't put an animal down for defending himself.”

She sighed heavily. “Knowing Riley, he'll probably violate the no-contact order before the day's over. He's going to want to rub everyone's nose in it.”

She saw Heather Quinn and the lawyer leaving the courtroom. Quinn nodded her way, and Bernadine responded in kind. Although Bernadine wasn't happy with the court decision, she wished the young woman the best.

A few minutes later, Bernadine put Riley and his victory out of her mind, because it was her turn to stand before the judge. Edison joined her at the table Riley and his people had used previously, and she watched skeptically as Wiggins, his toupee, and the city of Franklin's attorney took their spot at the adjacent one.

Once Judge Davis was seated again, she glanced at the paperwork and said, “Mayor Wiggins, I don't have a copy of the contract you are referencing for this preliminary hearing.”

Edison said, “Because there isn't one, Judge Davis.”

She paused. “What do you mean, there isn't one?”

“Ms. Brown and the city of Franklin have never entered into any contracts of any kind.”

“Then why are we here?”

“My client wishes the answer to that question as well.”

She turned a steely eye to the city's attorney, a woman named Benson who looked extremely uncomfortable. “Your Honor, I tried to convince Mayor Wiggins that the city had no case, but he insisted—”

“Upon wasting the court's time?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Bernadine held on to her smile.

Judge Davis said, “Okay, Mayor Wiggins, why do you think the court should hear this so-called lawsuit?”

“It's about fairness, Your Honor. Ms. Brown, by refusing to aid the region in its quest to recover from the recent recession, is putting everyone in danger.”

“How so?”

“A Big Box store would be a boost to our community, but she refuses to pay her share of the good-faith fees, so they are not going to build a store in Franklin.”

Davis looked first at Bernadine and then back at Wiggins. “Now, let me get this straight. Did she previously agree to pay this share?”

“No,” Edison responded before Wiggins could.

“Then, Mayor Wiggins, what do you want the court to do?”

“Make her pay. She has the money.”

Judge Davis sat back for a moment and viewed Wiggins as if she couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. “You want me to make her pay?”

“Yes, for the good of the region.”

His lawyer was looking off as if praying to be magically transported elsewhere.

“First of all, this is America, Mayor Wiggins, and no court in the land can
make
a person pay for something they're not contractually obligated to. Second, if you ever waste this court's time with something this ridiculous again, I will throw you in jail for contempt. Now, get out of my courtroom.” She brought down her gavel, stood up, and left the bench without another word or a backward glance.

Edison glanced over at the smiling Bernadine. “Wish all my cases were this easy.”

“Nice work, counselor.”

“Thanks. I have to be in San Francisco in the morning for another client, so I'll be heading back to the airport.”

“Safe travel.”

He thanked her, shook hands with Mal, and was on his way.

The Franklin contingent left hastily. She hoped this would be the last confrontation with Wiggins, but knew that would be too good to be true. She looked out at all the Henry Adams citizens who'd accompanied her to show their support and said, “Let's go home.”

On the ride back in Mal's truck, she said, “Hopefully things will get back to normal.”