“Luna, thank you—you saved me again. Is there anything you can’t do?” I shrugged off the robe and hung it on the coatrack that stood in the corner.

  When I turned back around, I was shocked to see that her mouth was trembling. She looked like she was about to cry.

  “Luna, what’s the matter? Is it your daddy?”

  Her father was battling lymphoma, and his condition was grave.

  She shook her head. “Something terrible has happened to our doctor.”

  Luna croaked the words out in a whisper. I didn’t follow her meaning, didn’t know who she was referring to, until she added, “She’s been arrested.”

  Well. That cleared it up. Union Springs had only one female doctor. Bria Gaines, who ran a family clinic.

  “What on earth?” I asked. I didn’t know the woman well. She was new to town, much younger than I was. And I wasn’t her patient. But it was a shock, nonetheless. I would’ve bet cash money on Bria Gaines being an upstanding, law-abiding citizen. “What did she do? Run a stop sign?”

  “Abortion,” Luna whispered. “She performed an abortion.”

  The pronouncement was shocking. It took me a moment to absorb it. I assumed the abortion had been performed in Bullock County, which meant that I would be presiding over the highly controversial criminal case.

  I was still getting my head around it when the DA strolled into my chambers. Which never happens. We don’t hang out under the best of circumstances. And that day had been a stormy one. Reeves and I had just knuckled up and started swinging in court, not ten minutes prior.

  But there he stood. Right in front of my desk. He smiled at me, showing a mouthful of teeth. “Have you heard the news?”

  Sniffling, Luna turned on her heel and left the office. Reeves and I were alone. I eyed him with some trepidation. Wondered what he wanted. And how long he’d linger.

  Reeves gestured at one of the chairs facing my desk. “May I?”

  I thought about discouraging him. Telling him I was running late for an appointment, that I had to leave. But it’s important to keep your enemies close. I needed to learn what the purpose of the visit might be.

  “Sure. Have a seat.” I sat in my own chair, pushing my knees squarely under the desk and folding my hands on the leather desk pad. Didn’t want to look relaxed or chummy. We weren’t pals.

  But the DA demonstrated an amazing change in his mood since we’d left court. He was chatty, even garrulous. “You know this Bria Gaines, right? She bounced into town two years ago and set up a clinic on Blackmon Avenue. Just a couple blocks over. Have you been in there?”

  I had my guard up. “Well, I’m not her patient. So, no.”

  “Me neither, no way. I have an internist in Montgomery—excellent doctor, by the way, in case you’re looking. I’d be glad to give you his contact info.”

  “Thanks. But it’s not necessary.” I didn’t take my eyes off him. It was almost as if I feared he’d make a sinister move if I glanced away.

  “Yeah, I don’t know her personally. Just what I read in the probable cause statement attached to the arrest warrant. But it’s shocking, I guarantee you. The girl she performed the abortion on? Thirteen years old.”

  The information made my stomach hurt. I took deep breaths, trying to gain control over my emotional reaction. I didn’t ask for more details, but the DA wouldn’t shut up.

  “The PC statement said the abortion was performed in Gaines’s clinic. She did it in the middle of the night. And the girl’s mother wasn’t there. Get this—the mother didn’t even know she was pregnant! Nobody thought the mother of a thirteen-year-old girl was entitled to know? Have you ever heard anything like it?”

  I asked a question. Maybe I shouldn’t have. “How did they find out about it? Did the girl tell somebody?”

  “She got sick! Just last weekend, started bleeding, hemorrhaging all over the floor. Cramps so bad she thought she was dying. The mother got scared, called 911, and the sheriff’s department came and took her to the nearest ER. The ER nurses thought she was having a miscarriage.”

  So sad. Such an old story. My eyes started to burn. I sat up straight. I wouldn’t reveal my weakness to Reeves.

  “Did the girl tell them? At the ER?”

  He slid down in the chair like he was getting comfortable. Crossed his legs. “Yeah. She got scared. Fessed up. Said Dr. Bria Gaines did it. Then the mother pitched a fit. Can’t really blame her for that. Can you?”

  I had my armor on at that point. “I don’t think we can discuss this any further, Mr. Reeves. You know why.”

  He knew. I’d be presiding over the case. He was trying to coerce me into revealing my personal judgment.

  “Sorry, Judge. I didn’t mean to overstep. I should think before I speak, isn’t that right? You know that I forget that sometimes.” He grinned at me, showing those teeth again.

  He looked down at his sleeve and picked at an invisible thread. Like he was about to say something of no significance. “I mean, you probably know the Jones family. It’s Nova Jones who had the abortion. She goes to your church, right?”

  Oh, there it was. Finally, I could see it clearly. I said, “I don’t go to church.”

  “Is it your sisters’, then? Are they members at Victory Baptist? I’ve heard about that tradition of yours, fixing breakfast for poor people every Saturday. I figured you were doing it because you were part of the church. Shoot, I guess you could be putting on a feed to get votes.”

  Son of a bitch. I didn’t say it out loud. Instead, I pushed my chair back from the desk and rose. “I have an appointment.”

  It was a lie. Maybe he guessed, because he made no move to depart. He shifted in his seat but didn’t stand. “Nova Jones has been seen at your house. In your own front yard, for that potluck breakfast. So if she’s been a guest at your house, well, that creates a conflict. Your acquaintance with the witnesses creates bias. It will render you unable to preside over the trial. Surely you can see that. It’s a different issue from the sentencing in the murder case, where Ferrell Gray wrote you a threatening letter.”

  I stared him down. “There are no conflicts that amount to a damn, and you know it. A State’s witness ate oatmeal on my lawn. That’s the basis of your claim? Most of the town has breakfasted there, one time or another. I can be fair and impartial. It’s my job.”

  I stepped away from the desk. Picked up my red briefcase. “I’ll walk you out of my chambers now, because I have to go. But I’m not walking away from this case. After six years, you should know that.”

  He lurched out of the chair, as if my words had thrown him off balance. “You’re running for office this year. You’ve got a strong opponent. That man is going to put up a hell of a race for your seat in the general election. You know how much money he’s raised?”

  I knew. He could outspend me by a wide margin. My support came from a different demographic than his.

  Reeves followed me into the hallway. “I tried to provide you with an out. This case will bury you. And that will be all your fault. You just remember that.”

  I was so eager to get away from Reeves that I slipped on the stairs, barely stopped from plunging headfirst down that long, curved stairway.

  My story could have ended right there.

  Some people probably wish that it had.

  CHAPTER

  15

  I didn’t break my neck on the staircase, not that day. And I managed to lose the DA when he paused on the stairway to speak to a local lawyer. At the bottom of the stairs, I made a dash down the central lobby and pushed through the back door. Straight to the parking lot.

  I had my key fob in hand, my car unlocked. Pulled the driver’s door open just as an older-model SUV with a rattle in the engine roared into the lot, blocking me.

  Nellie. My sister rolled down the car window. “Get in,” she said.

  Nellie is not the boss of me. I’m the firstborn child, the one who had to babysit two little sisters so Mama could work the farm. But the expression she wore that day made me climb into the passenger seat without argument.

  “Where we going?” I asked.

  “For a drive. Maybe get a Coke at the McDonald’s.”

  She gripped the wheel so hard that I could see the tendons stand out on her hands. Her voice was grim. “The sheriff came to school today. Mick Owens waltzed into the office like he owns the building. Didn’t even take off his shades.”

  I’ve known Mick Owens since high school. He was my date to senior prom, in fact.

  Mick drove us to the gym in his daddy’s pickup. Mama sewed my prom dress herself. We cut out early from the dance, for the usual teenage reasons, and went to the local make-out spot by the river, where we engaged in what the health teacher would have described as “heavy petting.”

  Back at school on Monday, Mick implied to everybody that we’d done a lot more. He was generally believed. I’m still pissed off about that. Maybe I’ll get over it after another thirty-four years.

  The image of the sheriff shaking up the school troubled me. “He’s pulling Nova Jones out of class, in front of her peers? That’s a clumsy way to investigate. Seems like he’d want to approach her at home, to respect her privacy. He needs to be careful with a child witness.”

  “Not Nova. He came for the school nurse. Cocheta Bass. You know her?”

  Sure, I knew everybody. In a town of three thousand, you do. “Our paths cross. At the Piggly Wiggly or the Dollar General.”

  “He took her out of the building in handcuffs. She was crying, begging the office to call her son, let him know what’s happening.”

  I was speechless. What the hell kind of role did the school nurse play in the scenario? The case was becoming more outlandish with each additional detail.

  Nellie pulled up to the speaker in the McDonald’s drive-through lane and ordered a large Diet Coke. Glanced my way. “You want something?”

  I shook my head. We didn’t speak again until Nellie had her drink in hand and rolled the window up.

  “I guess everyone at school is freaking out,” I said.

  She took a pull on the straw before she set her drink in the cupholder. “It’s wild. They’re already picking sides.”

  “What?”

  “Dividing into camps. For and against.” Nellie took her eyes off the road to give me a look. “Sure, there’s some people who are loyal to Cocheta and Dr. Gaines. But there’s other people saying they committed cold-blooded murder. That they killed a baby. A baby in the womb of a girl too young to know her own mind. A lot of people are saying it.”

  “Damn.” My throat had gone dry. Wished I had ordered a big Diet Coke. I needed that cold carbonation to burn the ache away.

  Nellie’s voice was flat. “You’re gonna have to pass on this one, Mary.”

  “Oh, stop.” I picked up her drink. Lifted the lid and took a gulp from the side of the cup. Made me feel better, to tell the truth.

  She grabbed the cup away from me, just like we were squabbling kids again. “Damn it, Mary! Why didn’t you order one for yourself? I don’t want your germs.”

  “You never did like to share, Nellie.”

  She scoffed at me. “Mary, you listen to me. I’m serious. Let some other judge handle this. Someone who doesn’t live right here in Bullock County. We’re going to see people all eaten up by this case, totally obsessed. The crazies will come out. Mark my words, Mary. This case will destroy you.”

  “You’re being dramatic.” I turned away from her, looked out the window at the buildings as we passed. Our town was dwindling. People kept moving out, businesses shut down. But we still had a church on every street corner.

  Nellie raised her voice, determined to be heard. “This is a losing proposition. Call it abortion, pro-life, pro-choice, women’s reproductive health. Doesn’t matter how you label it, there is no middle ground. None. Not here in Alabama. The issue fires people up, makes them unhinged. Whatever the outcome in that criminal case, a whole lot of people will be mad. You know who they’re gonna blame?”

  Silence in the car. It wasn’t until she elbowed me that I realized. She expected an answer.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Good. You tell me. Who are they going to blame? Who will people be mad at?”

  I sighed. She was right on that one. “The judge.”

  She repeated it. “The judge! That’s what I’m saying!”

  She picked up her big cup of Diet Coke again. Our eyes met while she drank more down. I was shocked to see tears welling up in her eyes.

  Quickly, I reassured her. “Nellie, I hear you. Consider your words marked.”

  A tear ran down her face, and she wiped her nose. Her voice shook as she said, “I’m scared for you, Mary. I keep thinking about what happened to Daddy that time. You know what I’m talking about.”

  My chest tightened. I did know what Nellie meant. And I didn’t like being reminded. Nellie and I had been grade-school age, Jordan wasn’t born yet. We’d been driving to Birmingham when our car was pulled over and Daddy had to get out of the car. The deputy didn’t like it when Daddy argued and insisted he hadn’t been driving too fast, hadn’t veered out of his lane. I won’t ever forget the sight of Daddy’s head getting split open while Nellie and I screamed and cried in the back seat. Mama was scared for us, said we had to quit making so much noise. She crawled halfway over the seat, trying to cover our mouths with her hands while the deputy beat my daddy by the side of the road.

  But that was almost half a century ago. Times had changed since then. I squeezed Nellie’s shoulder. “Don’t be upset, Nellie. It’s going to be okay.”

  She whispered, “I hope you’re right. Because I’ve got this bad feeling. Like everything is about to change.”

  I wished she hadn’t confided that. I was starting to get that feeling, too.

  CHAPTER

  16

  We had a homegrown scandal. After that day, people in Union Springs couldn’t stop talking about it. Bria Gaines; Nova Jones; the abortion; the arrest. Everyone breathless with anticipation to see what might happen next.

  I tried my best to bow out of those conversations, truly I did. Damn near impossible. There was no place to hide. The criminal case against Dr. Gaines was top of mind in every corner of the community.

  On Friday, I had a reprieve written into my schedule, and I was looking forward to it. I had plans to get out of town, out of the county. I’d be driving my car up highway AL-110 to I-85, because I had a standing appointment with an old friend. Twice a month, we met up at the Oyster House in downtown Montgomery.

  To be honest, I was tempted to duck out early that day. The clock moved so slowly after lunch, I was wild to cut out at three.

  I held off. Didn’t let myself slack. Maybe that was the wrong choice.

  Because at five past three, Reverend Curtis Erskine strolled into the front office. I heard him say to Luna, “If Judge Stone’s in, I’d like to speak with her.”

  Luna ushered him right through my door. She should’ve checked with me first, to get a green light. Must’ve slipped right out of her head. She assumed that the standard rules didn’t apply to Erskine. He’s got that old magic, like my sister said. Works on all women—with the possible exception of his wife.

  I rose from my seat and extended my hand across the desk. “Reverend! What business are you doing at the courthouse this afternoon?”

  Frankly, I was curious to see whether he’d tell a lie. Nothing happens at the Bullock County Courthouse on Friday afternoons. Same could be said of most any courthouse, anywhere, for that matter.

  He smiled, grasping my hand in a warm grip. “No business. Just wanted to talk with you, Judge, if you’re not tied up.”

  So he wasn’t a liar. But he was crafty. He’d handpicked the time, knowing I’d be free.

  Luna shut the door, closing me in with the preacher. I stared at the landline phone on my desk, half inclined to pick it up and tell Luna to keep the door cracked open. But I couldn’t think of a rational justification. I certainly didn’t believe the preacher was bent upon inflicting physical harassment. He hadn’t come to my chambers to throw a punch, or to steal a kiss.

  As he sat across from me, I stared him down, wondering, Just what does he intend to accomplish?

  He didn’t make me wait. “Judge Mary, you won’t be surprised to learn that I’ve heard about the abortion case. It’s weighing on me. A heavy burden.” He paused. When I didn’t speak, he sighed and said, “You know I’m Nova Jones’s pastor. I’m ministering to the whole Jones family. And Bria Gaines has also attended my church from time to time.”

  I cleared my throat. “I really can’t talk about this, you understand.”

  “I do! I do understand, Judge. I’m not here to force any confessions or guarantees out of you. Just here in my capacity as a man of God.”

  The audacity of that man shouldn’t have surprised me. I cut him off. “You wanting to pray over me, Reverend? I’d rather skip that. Not comfortable with it in this setting.”

  “Hear me out, Judge. I want to counsel you. To tell you this.” He made eye contact, held it. “Do the right thing or don’t do it at all.”

  “What did you say to me?”

  “You know exactly what I’m saying. What the right thing to do would be. If you can’t do that, well, don’t do it at all.”

  Anger surged, making sparks blur my vision. “You got a lot of nerve, Reverend. Trying to influence a judge.”

  He raised both hands in a defensive gesture, like he was saying Don’t shoot! “Don’t take it wrong.”

  “How am I supposed to take it?”

  “Judge, I’m a pastor, it’s my job to advise people.”

  A pulse was beating in my head. I had to work hard to hold on to my temper. “Well, here’s some advice for you. You want to be a preacher, stay out of politics.”

  “I’m not talking about politics.”

  “The hell you say.”

  His eyes widened. Probably because he wasn’t used to people cussing around him. He dropped his voice. “I’m talking about God’s word. The Sixth Commandment. ‘Thou shalt not kill.’”