Page 4 of The 1 Lawyer

She turned and left. I wanted to reach across the abyss, but this was not the time. I headed for the courthouse door.

Just before I entered the building, one of the locals who had come to witness the ruckus shouted, “You’ll get him off, Stafford Lee!”

When the door shut behind me, his voice rang in my ears.

Two women, clerks from the recorder’s office, grabbed me before I reached security. One of them, Liz Craig, was remarkably pretty. Mason had asked her out more times than any sensible man would have, but she invariably rebuffed him.

Breathless, Liz said, “You’re famous, Stafford Lee. Did you see the cameras following you to the door? Do you think you’re going to be on TV?”

“I don’t know, Liz. I guess we’ll have to tune in and see.”

“I love watching you in court. When we take our break, Renee and I are going to come and sit in for a minute just to see you do your thing.”

Her eyes were shining with admiration. A man would have had to be blind, senile, or both to miss it.

“That’s a real boost for me, knowing I have your support.” I gave the women a friendly smile. “Thank you, ladies, both of you. Now, I better get on upstairs.”

Before I stepped through security, Liz tugged on my sleeve and whispered, “Good luck, Stafford Lee.”

Walking up the stairs to the second floor, I was glad that Mason had not witnessed the exchange. He frequently claimed that I had a flock of lawyer groupies. Unfortunately, he’d been known to joke about that in the presence of my wife. Carrie Ann didn’t think it was funny.

In fact, it was one of the reasons she’d kicked me out of the house five weeks ago.

CHAPTER 4

I PEERED through the glass panel into the courtroom. It was too early for the press or the public to be admitted, but my client was already inside, seated on the front bench of the spectator section, his wife next to him.

I called out a greeting and hurried down the center aisle to the defense table. I set down the briefcase, shook out my left hand to get the blood flowing, and reached out to Caro with my right. “Daniel, join me at the counsel table as soon as you’re ready.” I smiled warmly at his wife. “Iris, how are you holding up? I know this is a difficult day for you.”

I liked Iris. Caro’s wife and I had gone on a couple of dates in college, when she was the reigning belle of Ole Miss. I’d stepped aside when Mason fell for her; he’d even escorted her to a sorority formal. All of this predated her romance with Caro and my marriage to Carrie Ann by many years. Ancient history, but I’d always had a soft spot for Iris.

Iris began to say something, but her husband cut her off. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been waiting here for twenty minutes. Do you know how much I’m paying you?”

I certainly did know, down to the penny. Like a lot of defense attorneys, I charged my clients on a sliding scale, based in part on their ability to pay. Daniel Caro’s lucrative medical practice netted him almost half a million a year, and that annual income put him in the top 1 percent in the state of Mississippi.

Caro’s income was one of the few things I liked about him—it enabled him to pay his attorney fees in advance and in full—but the money wouldn’t necessarily endear him to everyone. I made a mental note to check Jenny’s background information on the jurors’ household incomes. One in five people in my community lived in poverty.

Iris Caro eyed her husband warily as she scooted down the bench, creating distance between them. Obviously, she didn’t like to be too close when his temper flared. Daniel got up and came over to the counsel table.

Caro’s father claimed the family had roots in Sicily, and my angry client did resemble Michael Corleone. His hair, longish and slicked back, added to the Godfather aura. We had to work on that. In front of a jury, it wouldn’t be a good look. “Daniel, you need to calm down.”

“Calm down? Really?”

Two people took their seats in the back row, and Caro dropped his voice to a whisper. “There are people here today who are out for my blood.” The newcomers were too far away to hear him, but the deputy standing near the judge’s bench wasn’t. She was serving as bailiff, and she was listening.

I could not deny that Caro was right, so I didn’t try. Nonetheless, I had to reassure him. “Daniel, thanks to trained personnel from the sheriff’s department, the courtroom is the safest place a person can be.” I turned to the deputy. “Isn’t that right, Charlene?”

She nodded. “We are on top of it, Stafford Lee.”

Caro grabbed my sleeve. “That little girl is supposed to protect me? That’s the best you’ve got?”

I looked down at the hand clutching my suit jacket. When he released it, I said, “Charlene is extremely competent. And she won’t be alone. They’re doubling up on officers for the trial. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

His eyelid twitched. “Nothing to worry about? I stand to lose everything. It’s preposterous that you ever let this matter reach the trial stage. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

That wasn’t entirely accurate, but I wasn’t going to argue about it, not in front of his wife.

He continued. “You should know that I heard threats when we arrived. Actual threats from people milling around out there.”

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