“For—” Reggie let out a wet-sounding belch. “Forensics found Delano’s fingerprint on the handle of the fridge door.”
“What are you talking about?” Mitch’s voice had gone up in surprise. “We ain’t heard that in the trial.”
“Found the slide with the print in a box yesterday. Got mixed in with evidence from another case. Totally my fault.”
“Hell no,” Mitch mumbled. “That’s bullshit.”
“Nonetheless,” Gilchrist said. “Reggie will be called to testify when the trial resumes tomorrow. Mr. Bellingham, you said you couldn’t change your vote without a compelling reason. Are you compelled?”
Mitch huffed in disgust. “You crooked old bastard. You think I’m an idiot? I could knock your head off for what you’re trying to do.”
Russell took a menacing step forward, but Gilchrist waved him off.
“Mr. Bellingham, I prefer to think of you as a pragmatist. I know they’ve cut back your hours at the factory. You’ve got a wife and son to support. Don’t you want a better life for Holly and Evan?”
Emmy didn’t need to see Mitch’s face to know he understood the threat. Gilchrist knew the name of his wife and child. What else did he know?
Mitch said, “You can stick that money up your ass. It’s exactly where your bulldog left it in my shed. I’ll burn it down before I spend a penny.”
“Now, Mr. Bellingham—”
“You sound just like Ruel Clifton,” Russell said.
Everyone looked at him. No one spoke. The camera moved slightly as Mitch turned toward the three other people in the room. Reggie. Bernadette. Gilchrist. He knew that things had changed. He wanted to make sure the video captured the moment.
Reggie said, “I should get ready for court tomorrow. Never testified before.”
He left the beer can on the bar and walked out of the room. Seconds later, a door slammed shut. Then there was the distant whine of a motorcycle speeding away.
Gilchrest patted Bernadette on the leg as if she was a child who needed coaxing. She got up and left the room. The silence on the video stretched out. Mitch raised his hand, his arm momentarily blocking the camera as he probably wiped the sweat from his face.
“Come on.” Mitch’s voice was strained. “You gonna threaten me? Go ahead and try. I fought men with my bare hands in the dark ten feet underground. Even the rats didn’t fuck with me.”
Russell walked around the couch, sat on the arm. “It was nice of you to go to Ruel’s funeral. I saw you flirting with his daughter. She’s pretty hot.”
Mitch said, “I was consoling her, dipshit.”
“Yeah, I’d like to console her, too.” Russell smiled, but the emptiness in his eyes reminded Emmy of death. “Ruel talked about his tiny baby girl at the end. Begged me not to hurt her. Man couldn’t stop crying. Kept choking on the water. Wish I’d had more time with him. Damn river pulled him down like a stone.”
Emmy could only think of Taybee. She had adored her father. She would see this video one day. She would hear exactly what Shane Russell had done to him.
On the video, Mitch said, “The cops said it was an accident.”
Russell shrugged. “The cops say whatever Mr. Gilchrist tells them to say.”
The silence stretched out again. Emmy could hear Mitch’s heavy breaths on the microphone.
“Mr. Bellingham,” Gilchrist said. “I have tremendous respect for your service to our country.”
“Fuck you.”
“That’s why—”
“Shut your mouth.”
Mitch lunged toward Gilchrist.
Then he stopped. He turned.
