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.Her penance at the clinic wasn’t as unpleasant as she had thought it would be, but she was still anxious to return to the familiar.Just over a month to go.She glanced back to make sure Serena was close by.Her time at the clinic would end before Eric’s execution date.And if she or someone else was somehow successful in getting a stay, she’d be long gone before his case was resolved.She shook her head.Eric’s case wasn’t really hers.It was Greg’s and she was just filling in until he was able to return to work.Eric needed a true believer like Greg, someone who would fight without regard to the impossibility of winning.When she arrived at the doors of the 578th District Court, she glanced through the tiny windows on the outer doors.The judge was on the bench, taking a plea, but a horde of attorneys gathered inside the rails, broken off into small groups, presumably discussing pending cases.Cory motioned for Serena to take a seat in the gallery, and then she stepped into the well of the courtroom and approached one of the bailiffs.“Can you point Rick Smith out to me?” Before the bailiff had a chance to answer, Cory found herself wrapped in a bear hug.She stiffened, but quickly relaxed when she turned to face her attacker.“Kyle Hansen, you dog! I thought people in small towns shoot folks that creep up on them like that.”“Right, Lance.We all carry six-shooters in holsters.Oh, and don’t forget the ten-gallon hats.”Cory leaned back and appraised her old friend.She and Kyle had been hired at the Dallas DA’s office at the same time.They’d gone to baby prosecutor school together and had a friendly competition between them as to who would be promoted to felony court first.She’d won.Kyle had left the office a few years ago, and she’d heard a rumor he was moving back to his family’s ranch.“Are you working here?”“If by here, you mean the DA’s office, the answer’s no.I’m in private practice now.”“Ah, defense attorney.”“Among other things.Actually, I don’t do much criminal work anymore.I’m general counsel for the family business and I do some other transactional stuff on the side.I’ve got a civil trial in here next week, and I just came by to file some last-minute motions.I can’t believe I ran into you.What the hell are you doing here?”Cory shot a glance at Serena who was staring daggers her way.“It’s complicated.We’ll have a beer sometime and I’ll catch you up.”They wouldn’t have a beer and she wouldn’t catch him up.The explanation was more than complicated; it was personal.Too personal to share with someone she hadn’t seen in years.No doubt he’d read the news stories, and she wasn’t up for the inevitable questions.Time to cut this chance meeting short and accomplish what she came to do.“Do you know Rick Smith?”“Sure, he’s in the jury room.I’ll take you back.” Before she could protest that she could find her own way, Kyle grasped her arm and led her through the door at the back of the courtroom and into the jury room.Cory looked back at Serena and mouthed that she would be right back.Serena’s response was a disgusted shake of her head, and Cory wondered if she could ever do anything right in her eyes.*Serena took about fifteen minutes to decide she was tired of doing what Cory told her to.She didn’t take an indefinite leave from work, fly all the way out here, and rent a hotel room to sit around and wait for someone else to make things happen.She certainly wasn’t going to watch Cory yuck it up with other attorneys, attorneys who probably thought whatever wrong she’d done was for the greater good.Put those criminals away; fry them if you have to.Doesn’t matter if they’re innocent; at least we can sleep at night knowing we erred on the side of caution.She made her way to the edge of the crowded row and was about to leave the courtroom, when one of the bailiff’s approached her, a clipboard in his hand.“Ma’am.Have you checked in?”She was confused at first.Were she and Cory supposed to check in? Had Cory done so? She’d seen her approach one of the bailiffs.Had she taken care of it?She’d waited too long to answer and he tapped the clipboard with his hand.“Are you sure you’re on today’s docket or that you’re in the right courtroom?”Realization dawned and it wasn’t pretty.This man with his uniform, badge, and gun, thought she was a defendant.That she’d committed a crime.That she was here to have justice meted out to her.She surveyed the rest of the people in the gallery.Lots of Hispanics, a few poor looking whites, and about a dozen African-Americans.Of course she fit right in.Didn’t matter that she was wearing her best suit, the color of her skin lumped her in with the rest of the ne’er-do-wells of Rinson County.She kept her reply short.“I’m definitely not in the right place.”Once out in the hallway, she wasn’t sure what to do.The halls were teeming with people, and it didn’t take long to separate the accused from their counsel.The conversations were all laced with a thread of desperation: is that the best deal you can get? What am I looking at? I’ll lose my job.I’ll never get a job if this stays on my record
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