Nancy Grace - Murder in the Courthouse

Hailey glanced to both sides and in the rearview, taking a last glimpse in search of the ponytailed crime-scene tech. Maybe they could compare notes. But there was no sign of him. But wait… since when did a CSI have a ponytail? Not in these parts, anyway.

At that moment, a tingle went across Hailey’s face and her mouth went dry. The central air hadn’t cranked up outside the first time. When the curtain had dropped abruptly back to the window. She was sure of it. When the curtains began fluttering a few moments later, there had been a loud click, a catch of sorts, when the motor kicked in. Then the curtains had fluttered… not before. She didn’t hear a click the first time… or the hum of the motor.

She was sure.

Or was she? Maybe she didn’t recall it the first time because she was focused more on the Victorian birdhouse mini-mansion. And the black mark on the pole. And picking up the litter. Maybe she hadn’t been focusing on anything else.

Hailey looked back in her rearview mirror at Alton Turner’s house getting smaller and smaller as she pulled away from it.

If only those walls could talk.

A thick mist was rising up off the Savannah River the next morning as Hailey drove by. She had a fitful night’s sleep, largely because of her return to the scene of Alton Turner’s death. It even got into her dreams.

In the dream, she was hovering outside Alton’s window looking in at the photo of Alton and his mom. The old one in black and white where Alton was still just a little boy. And then, the curtains at the window would begin fluttering and obstruct her view. In the dream, Hailey kept reaching out, trying to pull them to the side to see who, if anyone, was standing there.

In the end, a hotel wake-up call snatched her out of a dream she couldn’t seem to get out of on her own.

Crossing over the river, she caught sight of the gray water churning on, giving no thought to those passing over it. The sky was early-morning gray as well, still cool before the Savannah sun came out to blister everything beneath it. She pulled the car into McDonald’s.

“Still on McDonald’s coffee? Still won’t give in and go to Starbucks?” She looked over at Finch in the front passenger seat.

“Costs too much. And it tastes bitter . Actually, I don’t see how you stand the stuff. I really wanted my Irish breakfast tea before morning session, but the hotel doesn’t have it. So, McDonald’s it is.”

The two drove through, ordered, and headed downtown on the narrow surface roads leading to the Chatham County Courthouse and the Julie Love Adams trial. But Hailey’s head was still at Alton’s place.

Alton’s cul-de-sac. She didn’t know why, but thought it was better if she kept it to herself.

She knew he’d be irate that she went out sleuthing on her own. When they were a trial team, he’d bailed her out often, including one time when she went to see a hostile witness and was met with a shotgun barrel right in her face.

He’d grabbed her and together, they dove straight off the porch into the dirt, the ringing of the shotgun blast in their ears.

Yep. He’d definitely be ticked off that she went out on her own. Better keep that quiet. She gulped down her coffee as Finch wolfed down a huge breakfast sandwich. Glancing over, Hailey could only identify some sort of meat, likely sausage, topped with egg and cheese, all in a biscuit.

It did smell pretty good. She had to admit that. The two kept driving in silence. She wasn’t in the mood for music interrupted by tons of local advertisements.

After several minutes, Finch broke the silence. “You heard about the parole hearing, right?”

“What?” Hailey continued looking out at the traffic.

“The parole hearing. It’s on the schedule, I heard. You haven’t mentioned it.”

Hailey flicked on the car’s blinker and, looking both ways, deliberately steered the car right. She seemed especially focused on traffic.

“You know he’s up for parole, right?”

“Who?”

“Hailey. You know who. Will’s killer. They’re having a hearing on it. Word is, that because of you, it’s turned into a political football. They’re saying he’s gonna get out because of it. They don’t want to look like they’re being unfair. You know, holding him behind bars just because you and Will were engaged. No preferential treatment… that kind of thing.”

Hailey didn’t turn or budge, didn’t bat an eye. She kept staring out toward cars slowly passing by. But her foot had lifted a tiny bit and the car had slowed considerably.

Still. She held it steady in the road.

“I heard.” She said flatly. At that moment, if she had given in to what she was feeling, she was in danger of going into a depression so deep, she wouldn’t be able to crawl out of it for months. She couldn’t give in to it. She couldn’t.

Hailey took a deep breath and shrugged Fincher’s hand off her shoulder. It wasn’t that she wanted to get rid of him, she just couldn’t be close.

She couldn’t let go. If she let go, she might just howl at the sky out of pure pain left over from a long time ago, when she was still a fresh-faced girl. Before Will was gunned down. When she thought she would still be walking down the aisle in her beautiful dress. When she still thought one day she would have a family, a home, a life.

Fincher knew enough not to push it. He’d been through a lot with Hailey and he understood her. He sat beside her quietly, waiting, as he had done thousands of times, in court and out.

In a few moments, the dark cloud passed over her. She could almost feel it fade away.

Hailey abruptly turned back to face him.

“Let’s just get into the courtroom. OK?”

“OK. Let’s go.” Finch knew that was always her solution. Don’t think about it. Don’t feel it. Don’t feel anything… it might hurt. Just get in the courtroom. Where it’s safe. This had been her MO since he first met her. But he also knew not to point that out to her.

Hailey was smarter, sharper, and quicker than anyone he’d ever met. He was pretty sure that Hailey Dean knew what she was doing.

So instead, he went along with her. “Yeah. Let’s see what BS DelVecchio is up to this morning. Probably an encore performance of yesterday.”

Hailey looked him in the face and smiled big. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

Slamming the doors and heading in, they climbed the courthouse steps and went through the metal detector fairly quickly by flashing their badges, allowing them to bypass a long line of people waiting to get through. Heading toward the bank of elevators in the center of the lobby, Hailey went on, talking about anything but the parole hearing.

“You want dinner after court?”

“Yeah. I think I want Cuban. A big, fat Cuban sandwich… or maybe some jerk chicken.”

“I want sushi. I wonder if they have decent sushi in Savannah.”

“OK, fine. If you want to eat some raw fish out of the Savannah River, you go right ahead. It’s about three miles from the Savannah nuclear reactor plant, but if you don’t mind sushi that glows… have at it. I will be having the very well-done chicken teriyaki.”

“Good. Have a piece of leather. Well-done tastes just like a shoe… but if that’s what you want… eat a shoe.”

“Hailey, I’ve known you over ten years and I can’t think of a single time-not even one time-you ever wanted the same thing I wanted for dinner.”

“Hey. I was just going to say that myself. Why do you have to be so contrary all the time? But that’s because I am a foodie and you … are a garbage disposal.”

“I’ve heard that before…”

“But Fincher, forget what you’re going to eat for once. I’m worried about this jury. Did you see the way they were looking over at Adams’s mom?”