like all that legal stuff.”
“Lawyers are weasels. That’s what Delgado says.” Jack and Delgado were still going to the firing range for target practice at least once every couple of weeks.
“How come everybody just calls him Delgado?” Steve asked.
“I dunno. I’ve never heard him say what the J. P. stands for.”
“Justice of the Peace,” Rowdy said. “Anyway, you need to be a lawyer, Jack, so you can defend me when I get arrested.”
Jack looked over at his friend. “What’re you gonna get arrested for?”
“Well, right off the top of my head, I don’t know.” Rowdy grinned. “But a screw-up like me’s bound to get in trouble sometime, right? Probably wind up in jail more than once.” He started to sing. “‘Nobody knows … the trouble I’ve seen….‘”
“That’s enough,” the vice-principal said as they went inside the building. He was standing there watching the students stream past him, and he didn’t seem any happier about it being the first day of school than they did.
As usual, the first day was busy and confusing, even for seniors. Jack had plenty on his mind.
But that didn’t stop his thoughts from straying to the county seat now and then.
He couldn’t help but wonder how the trial was going.
C HAPTER 17
Nine people sat at the defense table: Joe Gutierrez and his client, Pete McNamara; Dave Rutherford, representing the city of Home; Everett Hobson, the district attorney of Hawkes County, and one of his assistants, Janet Garcia; Rosario Encinal, from the Solicitor General’s office in Washington, representing the federal government; and three attorneys representing the manufacturer of the gun Pete McNamara had used to shoot Jorge Corona and Emilio Navarre. It made for a crowded table. In fact, the bailiffs had had to bring in a smaller table and put it at the end of the one normally used by the defense, just to have room for everybody.
Despite that, the defense team seemed outnumbered by the three people who sat at the plaintiff’s table: Navarre, his lawyer Clayton Cochrum, and one of Cochrum’s associates, a stunningly beautiful blond woman.
That was the way it seemed to Alex, anyway, as she sat on one of the benches reserved for spectators. Since she was on the witness list, she would have to leave the courtroom before the trial got underway, but she had slipped in here in hopes of catching Pete McNamara’s eye and giving him an encouraging smile. She had known him for years, even before he’d been Jack’s Little League coach.
Pete had his head down and didn’t seem to be paying much attention to anything around him. His shoulders slumped like he was already defeated. Alex wasn’t really surprised to see that. Pete had taken Inez’s death hard. The few times she had talked to him over the summer, his eyes had been so haunted that he seemed barely there.
Dave Rutherford seemed to feel her looking at the defense table, though, and turned his head to look back at her. She gave him a brief, strained smile, then stood up and came over to the railing that divided the tables from the spectators’ benches.
“You’re not supposed to be in here, Alex,” he told her in a low voice. “You need to be out in the hall with the other witnesses.”
“I know. I just wanted to see Pete. Tell him I said hello, would you?”
“Sure.” Rutherford glanced at the crowd that had filled up the benches. “There are lots of people here from Home.”
“Of course, there are. We stand by our own.”
“I hope they behave themselves. Judge Carson is pretty intolerant of disturbances. If people get loud, it could hurt our chances.”
“I’ll spread the word.”
Rutherford nodded. “Thanks, Alex.”
She stood up and gripped his hand for a second, then spoke to several people in the audience she knew, asking them to pass along Rutherford’s suggestion that everybody be quiet and polite.
One of Pete McNamara’s friends from the VFW nodded solemnly and said, “We’ll
“Lawyers are weasels. That’s what Delgado says.” Jack and Delgado were still going to the firing range for target practice at least once every couple of weeks.
“How come everybody just calls him Delgado?” Steve asked.
“I dunno. I’ve never heard him say what the J. P. stands for.”
“Justice of the Peace,” Rowdy said. “Anyway, you need to be a lawyer, Jack, so you can defend me when I get arrested.”
Jack looked over at his friend. “What’re you gonna get arrested for?”
“Well, right off the top of my head, I don’t know.” Rowdy grinned. “But a screw-up like me’s bound to get in trouble sometime, right? Probably wind up in jail more than once.” He started to sing. “‘Nobody knows … the trouble I’ve seen….‘”
“That’s enough,” the vice-principal said as they went inside the building. He was standing there watching the students stream past him, and he didn’t seem any happier about it being the first day of school than they did.
As usual, the first day was busy and confusing, even for seniors. Jack had plenty on his mind.
But that didn’t stop his thoughts from straying to the county seat now and then.
He couldn’t help but wonder how the trial was going.
C HAPTER 17
Nine people sat at the defense table: Joe Gutierrez and his client, Pete McNamara; Dave Rutherford, representing the city of Home; Everett Hobson, the district attorney of Hawkes County, and one of his assistants, Janet Garcia; Rosario Encinal, from the Solicitor General’s office in Washington, representing the federal government; and three attorneys representing the manufacturer of the gun Pete McNamara had used to shoot Jorge Corona and Emilio Navarre. It made for a crowded table. In fact, the bailiffs had had to bring in a smaller table and put it at the end of the one normally used by the defense, just to have room for everybody.
Despite that, the defense team seemed outnumbered by the three people who sat at the plaintiff’s table: Navarre, his lawyer Clayton Cochrum, and one of Cochrum’s associates, a stunningly beautiful blond woman.
That was the way it seemed to Alex, anyway, as she sat on one of the benches reserved for spectators. Since she was on the witness list, she would have to leave the courtroom before the trial got underway, but she had slipped in here in hopes of catching Pete McNamara’s eye and giving him an encouraging smile. She had known him for years, even before he’d been Jack’s Little League coach.
Pete had his head down and didn’t seem to be paying much attention to anything around him. His shoulders slumped like he was already defeated. Alex wasn’t really surprised to see that. Pete had taken Inez’s death hard. The few times she had talked to him over the summer, his eyes had been so haunted that he seemed barely there.
Dave Rutherford seemed to feel her looking at the defense table, though, and turned his head to look back at her. She gave him a brief, strained smile, then stood up and came over to the railing that divided the tables from the spectators’ benches.
“You’re not supposed to be in here, Alex,” he told her in a low voice. “You need to be out in the hall with the other witnesses.”
“I know. I just wanted to see Pete. Tell him I said hello, would you?”
“Sure.” Rutherford glanced at the crowd that had filled up the benches. “There are lots of people here from Home.”
“Of course, there are. We stand by our own.”
“I hope they behave themselves. Judge Carson is pretty intolerant of disturbances. If people get loud, it could hurt our chances.”
“I’ll spread the word.”
Rutherford nodded. “Thanks, Alex.”
She stood up and gripped his hand for a second, then spoke to several people in the audience she knew, asking them to pass along Rutherford’s suggestion that everybody be quiet and polite.
One of Pete McNamara’s friends from the VFW nodded solemnly and said, “We’ll
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