Perfect Justice (37 page)

“I want all counsel in my chambers,” Judge Tyler pronounced. “Now. Mr. Kincaid, you’re excused.”

“Thank you, your honor.”

As Ben left the witness stand, for the first time, Belinda looked directly at him. Their eyes met.

And her expression changed—for the most fleeting of instants—to something that resembled a smile.

B
EN SAT BY HIMSELF
on the bank of the lake near his former campsite. The morning was still gray; the first rays of the sun were just beginning to peek out over the mountaintops.

He stared into the water and tried to clear his head of all the noise, all the confusion, all the regret.

All the sadness.

He heard a car chugging up the dirt road just outside the campground. A few minutes later Christina strolled up and sat beside him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

She shrugged nonchalantly. “Thought you might like some company.”

“You were wrong.” He turned away and stared across the lake. “But since you’re here, how are you feeling?”

“Fine. Fit as a fiddle. Totally recovered.” She cocked her head to one side. “How are you?”

He considered the possible answers. Fine? Fit as a fiddle? Somehow they didn’t ring true. And he wondered if he would ever be totally recovered.

“Mind if I play some music?”

Ben saw her removing her harmonica from its velvet case. “Must you?”

“I’m in the mood.” She began to play.

Ben did his best to ignore it. But the melody caught his ear. It seemed very familiar.
When the shark bites
…

It was difficult not to grin. “Did you learn that just for me?”

“Nah. ‘Mack the Knife’ has always been in my repertoire.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Hey, you’re smiling.”

“Sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“Okay. Me neither.” Her expression became preposterously grim. “Is this better?”

“Look,” Ben said, “I know you’re trying to cheer me up, but it’s no use, okay?”

“Oh, well then. I won’t waste my time trying.”

“Good.”

“I’ll just sit here silently and not say a word.” She made the motion of zipping up her lips.

“Much appreciated.”

She remained quiet for about half a second.

“I just have one question,” she said. “Your testimony about Belinda’s hesitation, her change of heart. Was that true, or did you make it up to prevent her from getting the death penalty?”

“Christina, perjury is a criminal offense.”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Good. I won’t.”

Christina sighed. She pointed toward the horizon. “Look! It’s the sunrise.”

“Big deal.”

“
Au contraire, c’est
…” The orange rays crept across the mountains and reflected off the clear blue water. “
C’est magnifique!
”

“Not interested,” Ben said. “I’ve seen it before.”

She took his hand and squeezed it tightly. “You have to see it like you’re seeing it for the first time.”

A
BOOK LIKE THIS
would not be possible without the expertise of others. I want to thank Kathy Humphries and Gail Benedict for their assistance with the manuscript and other clerical chores. Thanks also to Arlene Joplin for her criminal law expertise, and to Drew Graham for his editorial guidance. Thanks are due to Dr. Paul Tucker, longtime Arkansas resident, for his aid in making the town of Silver Springs come alive. Thanks also to Vien Van “Bob” and Cam-Huong Thi “Tina” Nguyen for their help in understanding the new Vietnamese immigrants and creating a Coi Than Tien that reflected reality. Belated and continuing thanks to Pat Cremin, whose unique insights into human nature are a character creator’s dream, and to Kevin Hayes, for friendship and more favors than I could possibly list. Finally, my thanks and deepest admiration go to Morris Dees, for the inspiration found in his books and his life. Incidentally, every act taken, every word written, and every epithet spoken by ASP in this book is based on well-documented actions and statements by an American hate group—during the last fifteen years.

William Bernhardt

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

copyright © 1993 by William Bernhardt

cover design by Jason Gabbert

978-1-4532-7714-0

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