Gail Oust - 'Til Dice Do Us Part

“Not guilty, your honor,” Claudia said, her voice quiet but firm.

“Attagirl, sugar,” Connie Sue whispered.

I felt like shouting my approval as well. Maybe have Connie Sue Cheerleader rally the Babes. I could almost hear her yell, Give me an I!. Give me an N! until we spelled innocent. The world, the court-and Sheriff Wiggins in particular-needed to take note that Claudia was indeed innocent of the horrid charge against her. Our friend wasn’t a murderer.

Badgeley Jack, dapper as usual in a candy-striped bow tie and navy blazer, addressed the judge. “Your honor, my client requests she be released on her own recognizance.”

The county prosecutor fairly bristled at the request. Even the sparse hairs at the nape of his neck stood at attention. “Your honor, the state objects. The prosecution has just learned the defendant recently renewed her passport and is deemed a flight risk.”

“The defendant will relinquish her passport and is further advised not to leave the county without permission of the court,” said the judge. After consulting her calendar, Judge Blanchard set a trial date. She banged her gavel, concluding the proceedings.

We gathered round Claudia, liberal with hugs and words of encouragement. She smiled wanly, a store mannequin’s vacant smile. She was a mere shadow of her old self. I recalled her saying that meeting Lance had been the sorriest day of her life. From her expression, I could see today also ranked high on her list of sorriest days.

“You need anything, anything at all,” Monica said, “all you have to do is ask.”

Rita patted her back. “We’re here for you, honey.”

Claudia swallowed noisily, her eyes suspiciously bright.

“Ladies,” Bad Jack interrupted our little reunion, “if you’ll kindly excuse us, Miz Claudia and I have some unfinished business. I’ll personally escort this fine lady home after all the formalities have been arranged.”

With his hand riding protectively at the small of her back, he steered Claudia out of the courtroom.

Bill stood waiting in the hallway when we emerged. I felt shaken and close to tears by everything that had just transpired. My dear friend was facing a trial and possible imprisonment. I desperately wanted to help, but I wasn’t sure how. I hated feeling useless; powerless.

One look and Bill must’ve sensed I was in need of moral support. Putting his arms around my shoulders, he drew me aside. “There, there, Kate, don’t worry. Things have a way of working out, you’ll see. From all accounts, you found Claudia one of the finest lawyers in the state.”

Sniffling, I burrowed my face into his shoulder, shamelessly exploiting the opportunity. I took a deep breath, inhaled the crisp, clean scent of soap and pine aftershave, and instantly began to feel better. “I know in my heart Claudia would never hurt anyone-much less kill them.”

Bill alternately rubbed and patted in an awkward but endearing attempt to soothe. “The sheriff’s a smart man. He’ll sort things out.”

I pulled away and stared up at him. “Do you really think so? Or are you just trying to make me feel better?”

A lengthy silence ensued. He avoided looking at me, his baby blues fixed on a point somewhere above my head.

“Bill…?”

Finally he gave a sheepish smile. “Guilty as charged.”

“Hush.” I placed a fingertip against his lips. “Guilty isn’t the word to use inside a courthouse.”

Suddenly I felt some of my usual spunk return. The pity party where I reigned as guest of honor came to a screeching halt. I took a half step back and squared my shoulders. At times like these, friends needed friends. No one knew Claudia better than the Babes. If the sheriff couldn’t be depended on to prove her blameless, it was up to us.

I smiled at Bill. “Thanks for lending me your shoulder. I’m feeling much better.”

“Glad I could help.” Bill returned the smile-the one that always made me a little weak in the knees.

“Some of the Babes are going to reconvene at the Cove Café for a strategy session. Care to join us?”

“Me? Alone with all those women?” Bill appeared alarmed at the notion. He began retreating down the hall. “Maybe another time.”

I smiled as I watched him leave. Bill had a bashful streak a mile wide. But that didn’t make him a coward-far from it. When the chips were down, I’d seen him transform himself from shy suitor into a knight in shining armor. Granted, our friendship/relationship may have encountered a temporary setback, but with time and patience, I was certain he’d come around-even if it meant my turning into a brazen hussy.

The Babes and I drove back to Serenity Cove Estates and reconvened at the Cove Café. The lunch rush was over by the time we arrived. We pulled two tables together to form a makeshift conference table. My stomach growled noisily as I was about to sit down, reminding me I hadn’t eaten anything since the blueberry muffin earlier in the day.

Seeing us gather, Vera MacGillicudy brought our usual drinks without our having to ask. Goes to show why she’s the Babes’ favorite. “Anything else, ladies?” she asked. “Y’all need menus?”

My stomach gurgled again, drawing the attention of Pam and Rita sitting on either side of me. I ignored Monica’s disapproving glare and ordered a burger and fries. Before she had a chance to launch into a lecture on fat grams, Pam followed suit. Next, Gloria and Polly agreed to split a chicken quesadilla. Connie Sue ordered her usual fruit plate, and Janine a cup of beef barley soup. Only Rita and Monica insisted they weren’t hungry.

Once Vera headed for the kitchen, we got down to business.

“Exactly what is ‘involuntary manslaughter’?” Pam asked. “Kate, you met with Claudia’s attorney this morning. Did he give you an explanation?”

“BJ said-”

“BJ?” Monica raised a dark brow in a passable imitation of Sheriff Wiggins.

“Badgeley Jack Davenport the Fourth, to be precise. He told me to call him BJ. He said that’s what his friends call him.”

“Hmph,” Monica sniffed. “Seems the two of you are getting along rather well.”

Ignoring her, I assumed my role as professor-at-large with a certain aplomb. “BJ said manslaughter is defined as the unlawful killing of another without malice.”

“Where does the ‘involuntary’ come into play?” Janine squeezed lemon into her iced tea.

I did the same, then added a packet of sweetener. “The ‘involuntary’ has to do with criminal negligence.”

“Which is what, Miss Smarty Pants?” Connie Sue drawled.

“According to BJ, criminal negligence is the reckless disregard of the safety of others.” I was amazed at how much legal jargon I had absorbed in the relatively short period of time I’d spent with BJ Davenport. “He said the prosecution will contend Claudia is responsible for Lance’s death because she showed reckless disregard for his safety by not checking the gun before firing it.”

After a prolonged silence, Pam cleared her throat. “Did Mr. Davenport happen to mention what the sentence usually is for involuntary manslaughter?”

I took a sip of iced tea, marveling that it slid past a lump in my throat that felt the size of a watermelon. “No more than five years.”

Rita toyed with the handle of her coffee cup. “Could be worse if the charge were murder. South Carolina has the death penalty.”

I don’t know about the rest of the Babes, but I suddenly lost my appetite. The thought of a burger and fries made my stomach twist into a knot.

“Was Diane able to contact either of Claudia’s sons?” Gloria asked.

“Diane said they both wanted to come.” Pam fiddled with the wrapper from her straw, first pleating, then smoothing it. “Claudia told them to stay put. She insists there’s nothing they could do.”