Inadvertent Disclosure by Melissa F Miller

Monday
     
     
    Exactly one week after she’d
left the Springport municipal parking lot, Sasha eased her Passat in to a spot
in the lot. This time, however, out of prudence, she parked right next to the
attendant’s shack. Despite the unusually sunny April day, Danny Trees and his
friends were nowhere to be seen. Instead, a tired-eyed mother rested on the
bench in the adjacent park and watched her toddler chase a yellow rubber ball
around the grass at what appeared to be warp speed.
    Sasha smiled at them as she
lifted her briefcase from the front seat. Inside, a copy of Dr. Kayser’s report
from his visit with Jed last week rested in a manila folder. As far as she was
concerned it should have been wrapped in Christmas paper. The gerontologist had
evidently caught her client on a good day. Jed had scored 29 out of 30 on his
MMSE, had shown the doctor around his place, and had taught him how to de-bone
a trout. The doctor had agreed to testify on Jed’s behalf.
    Now, all she had to do was work
with Jed on his own testimony. He still had a tendency to curse a blue streak
and she was determined to get him to tone it down before the hearing. She
figured she might be able to bribe some good behavior out of him with a pie
from Bob’s Diner. She’d seen him looking at them longingly as they’d passed the
glass case on their way out.
    As she walked from the lot to
the square, she found herself daydreaming about Deputy Russell’s coffee with
equal longing. So, when she ducked into Bob’s, she had Marie wrap up a gob for
Russell along with the pecan pie—authoritatively identified as Jed’s favorite
by the waitress.
    “You enjoy that gob now, honey.
Diner’s closing Saturday. When it reopens, who knows what kind of frou frou desserts
we’ll be serving,” she called to Sasha’s back.
    As she cut across the square in
the middle of the block, the late afternoon sun was in her eyes. She almost ran
into a tall, thin man. She sidestepped at the last minute to avoid him,
shielding her face from the glare with one hand and holding the pastries with
the other.
    “Excuse me,” she muttered.
    “Good afternoon, Ms.
McCandless,” he said. “I see you’ve discovered the desserts at Bob’s. Lydia
makes them from scratch.”
    She squinted. It was Judge
Paulson.
    “Hi, your honor. I didn’t know
that. Is Lydia his wife?”
    “She is indeed,” the judge
said, taking Sasha’s elbow lightly in his hand and moving her backward and onto
the sidewalk as an oversized Ford pickup roared past. “It’s not advisable to
jaywalk around here, Counselor. Pedestrians may have the right of way in
downtown Pittsburgh, but you’re a long way from Pittsburgh.”
    “I’ve noticed, your honor.
Thanks for the hand.”
    The judge released her elbow
and came around to stand beside her. “Yes,” he said, “Springport is a different
place entirely.”
    He pointed across the square to
the clock tower on the courthouse. “Do you see the statue atop the clock
tower?”
    Sasha looked hard at the statue
of a woman in flowing robes. She could make out the scales of justice held
aloft in her left hand and a double-edged sword in her right.
     “It’s Lady Justice, isn’t it?”
    “Very good, Ms. McCandless.
But, did you know that sculpture of Lady Justice is one of only five in the
entire country that doesn’t depict her as blindfolded?”
    “No, I can’t say I did.”
    “Yes. The blindfold, of course,
represents blind justice and impartiality. But, the elder statesmen who
commissioned our statue seemed to think that justice in Clear Brook County has
its eyes wide open.”
    He waited for her to say
something.
    “Maybe that’s a good thing?”
    “Perhaps,” he said. “But, I
doubt it.” He touched the tip of his hat and continued on his way, headed
toward Bob’s and his own slice of Lydia’s home-baked goodness.
     
     
    * * * * * * * * * *
     
     
    Deputy Russell had been happy
to fill Sasha’s stainless steel travel mug with some of