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He rolled his eyes. “I can’t do this now, Miss Rochere.”
I pivoted and started walking beside him. “You’re already doing it, Judge Donovan.”
“I can’t do anything about the case. The most I could do, I’ve already done. I declared a mistrial, and now this new charge gets volleyed to another judge. You know how it goes.”
I grabbed his wrist and stopped him in his tracks. “You know what’s going on right now. I know you see it.”
His eyes grew dull and lifeless. “I see it all too often. But, as long as defense lawyers continue to play as dirty as they do, there isn’t anything I can do about it.”
“If there was, would you do it?”
He peeked over at me. “Walk with me.”
I fell into step beside him as we made a beeline for the side parking lot. “Yes, you declared a mistrial. And yes, he’s been charged with something else outlandish. I won’t ask you to testify. That gets messy on multiple counts. But…”
He paused and turned to me. “You want me to go to the media.”
I shrugged. “The media plays a heavy role in court nowadays. If we can influence the public to our side—if we can get them to see the racism in all of this—Jiro stands a hell of a chance.”
He stayed silent for much longer than I anticipated before he nodded. “Consider it done.”
I smiled. “Consider what done, Judge Donovan?”
He winked at me before he patted my shoulder, then the two of us parted ways. Hope filled my chest for the first time in a while, and then a stark reality slapped me across the face. It burned all the way down into my chest where my heart started aching, and as I raised my hand to flag down yet another taxi, a thought crossed my mind.
I need a vacation from all the bullshit.
