Chapter 26: Final Hearing

"In court," my lawyer repeated. "Honey, that's another six weeks and a docket fight."

"Then it's six weeks. I'm done signing things in back rooms."

She was quiet for a second.

"I'll tell him the price just went up," she said. "He says it under oath, out loud."

"And if he won't?"

"Then I put Wilma on the stand, and he sits there and watches her."

He said yes on Thursday.

His lawyer told mine why. The prosecutor wanted restitution before she'd talk about a plea. A judge's record of it would help him.

So he wasn't saying it for me. That was fine. He'd still have to say it.

The hearing was the second Tuesday in January, in the same small courtroom on the sixth floor.

The same heavy, tired judge with the half-glasses.

Brantley came in alone with his lawyer.

His navy suit hung loose at the shoulders. His tan was gone. His wrist was bare where the steel watch used to be.

A bondsman had posted him this time. His mother had her own lawyer now, and her own problems.

He didn't look for her in the gallery. She wasn't there.

My side of the room had my lawyer, Wilma in her good church coat, and Jubal.

Behind them sat all six of my movers in red shirts, taking up a whole row.

The bailiff had asked them to sit down twice.

"Mr. Talmadge," the judge said. "Your counsel tells me you have something to put on the record. Stand up."

Brantley stood.

"Your petition says you put three hundred and eighty thousand dollars of marital money into the roof of the Kitt warehouse."

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Did you?"

Brantley looked at the table.

"No, Your Honor. I never put a dollar into that building. Kitt paid for its own roof."

Keep reading free with an account. Start He Chose Mistress, I Chose Empire from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.