He shifted his attention to Eleanor.
“Ms. Harper,” he said, his tone not softer exactly but less abrasive, “I cannot order you to stay out of public on weekends. But I can tell you this: every time you walk into a place right now, you run the risk that somebody with a camera wants to make you part of the story.”
He leaned forward slightly, his shadow falling across her legal pad.
“If you let a podcaster bait you into a street fight, you are no longer a victim of Charleston. You are helping it happen again. Do I make myself clear?”
A flicker passed through Reid’s face at that, gone almost before it formed.
“I understand, Your Honor,” Eleanor said.
Harlan turned to Reid.
“And Mr. Calloway, if any witness, staff member, deputy, intern, cousin, friend, or courthouse stray cat connected to yourside is found coordinating with either of these outfits, I will be spectacularly unamused.”
“They are not, Judge,” Reid said. “And I’ve made that clear.”
Harlan exhaled.
“Return to the courtroom,” he said. “We’ll do this now.”
Twenty minutes later, the jury was back in the box.
Harlan folded his glasses in one hand and looked over the tops of them at both counsel tables.
“That is enough,” he said.
The courtroom went still.
“We are not stopping this trial every time someone with a phone and a podcast decides to manufacture a headline.”
His gaze landed briefly on Lila in the gallery.
“This case will be decided in this courtroom. By this jury. Based on evidence. Not by internet commentators, amateur sleuths, or anyone else determined to turn Jackson County into a circus.”
He looked back to Eleanor and Reid.
“I have questioned the panel. None of them has been exposed to anything that rises to the level of prejudice. We are proceeding.”
His expression hardened.
“And let me be perfectly clear: I do not intend to spend the next week polling this jury every time somebody in this town decides to point a camera at one of you. We are finishing this case.”
He looked directly at Eleanor.
“Ms. Harper, stay away from Ms. Grant.”
Then to Reid:
“And Mr. Calloway, if anyone connected to your office is feeding information to these people, I will discover it, and you will regret it.”
Reid braced himself as if taking a blow. “Understood, Your Honor.”
“Good,” Harlan said. “Call your next witness.”
58
Jackson County Main Courtroom
