Juror #3 by James Patterson

Author:James Patterson
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Thriller
Publisher: Little, Brown and Company
Published: 2018-09-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 37

“SO, YOUR OLD beau doesn’t like the idea of trying his case in Rosedale?”

Shorty was stirring an industrial-size pot of grits with a long-handled spoon. I watched him from my seat at the counter, where I mopped up egg yolk with a slice of buttered toast. I’d come to the diner early, while the SORRY! WE’RE CLOSED! sign still hung on the front door.

“Oh, Shorty. Lee was fit to be tied. He said—and this is a quote—‘Why don’t you keep your goddamned mouth shut?’”

Shorty’s eyes narrowed, and he gave the grits such a vicious stir that the white cereal jumped out of the pot and sizzled on the hot burner.

“How did you respond to that?”

“I didn’t have to respond. Suzanne jumped in, said the Rosedale idea was a stroke of genius. That it was a better setting than Barnes County, where her office sits, because she’s so well-known there. We’d have lost the whole jury panel. She’s gotten everyone in Barnes County a divorce or a will, or handled their personal injury car crash. But with Rosedale as our home base, we can operate out of my office on the square and still have the hometown advantage.”

Shortly scooped a ladle of grits into a bowl and added a pat of butter. “These are done.”

I picked up the salt and pepper shakers. As I seasoned the grits, I said, “And then Suzanne and I had a private chat. That’s the big news I came over to tell you.”

Shorty put a lid on the pot and then joined me, leaning against the opposite side of the counter. “I’m all ears.”

“She wants to go into partnership with me.”

His face broke into a smile. “That’s huge.”

“Oh, Lord, Shorty—you can’t imagine how tickled I am. We’ll keep both offices: Suzanne’s in Barnes County, mine at the Ben Franklin. Greene and Bozarth, Attorneys at Law.”

“She’s lucky to have you.”

“I’m the lucky one. She’s putting me on salary, plus I’ll keep a percentage of my fees. Suzanne says she’s getting too old for solo practice. She can cut down her hours now, because I can make appearances on her behalf.”

“What’s she paying you?”

I paused, reluctant to answer. My mama was always skittish talking about money. She was strict in her code of conduct, even if she was a cleaning lady.

I dipped a spoon into the buttery grits and popped it into my mouth. I regretted the move immediately.

“Too hot,” I groaned with my mouth full.

“Girl, you know better than to eat grits before they’ve had a chance to cool down. I’d call you Goldilocks, except your hair is such a pretty chestnut brown.”

I pushed the bowl away and took a long swig of ice water. Shorty reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “I didn’t mean to be nosy.”

I waved off the statement. “I’m too closemouthed; can’t help it. But this much I’ll say: it’s enough for me to move out of the back of the Ben Franklin. I’m going apartment hunting today. Ain’t that cool? Suzanne has already cut me a check.

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