“No, sir.”
“Go to bed.”
I ran. I put the dishrag in the laundry, grabbed a dark-colored bath towel, and then crawled in my bed, covering my pillow with the towel, terrified to get blood on the sheets. My legs shook for an hour. My nose throbbed, but I didn’t dare wake my mother to ask for help.
I lay in bed and imagined the death of my father.
FOURTEEN
Truman realized too late that it had been a mistake to invite Royce along to Joshua Forbes’s arraignment.
The young cop wouldn’t stop talking or asking questions. Sitting by Truman in the courthouse, Royce delivered a running commentary under his breath as the judge arraigned other defendants. Twice Truman had told him to be quiet, but the cop’s lips kept moving.
Truman was ready for the judge to ask Royce to leave.
Joshua sat at the front in the county jail’s bright-orange inmate clothing. His chin was up and his shoulders held stiffly back. He stood out from the other inmates, who slouched and stared at their feet. Truman hadn’t seen the sovereign citizen turn around, and he wondered if Joshua knew he was there.
The judge called Joshua Forbes.
“Finally,” Royce muttered.
Truman liked Judge Parks. The older man was direct and took no bullshit from lawyers or defendants. He’d already made one defendant cry that morning.
Joshua rose and stepped in front of the bench, his hands cuffed behind his back.
Judge Parks looked at him over his reading glasses. “You’ve got quite a list of charges here, Mr. Forbes. No license, no registration, speeding, resisting arrest. How do you plead?”
“I am not Joshua Forbes.”
Even from his seat in the back, Truman could see the gleam in the judge’s eye at Joshua’s statement. Joshua didn’t know what he was up against.
“Well, who are you?”
“I am the representative of Joshua Forbes. I’m here to challenge the jurisdiction of this court,” Joshua announced. “It has no authority over me.”
“What the hell?” Royce whispered.
Truman shushed him.
“Why is that, Mr. Forbes?” The judge’s tone was polite.
“This is a maritime admiralty court—”
“No, it’s not,” shot back the judge.
“Maritime?” Royce asked. “Does he mean like in the ocean?”
“I have no idea,” whispered Truman.
“Is this a common-law court?” Joshua asked.
“No.”
“I am not accountable to your laws.”
“The laws apply to everybody,” answered the judge.
“I am not a US citizen. I am sovereign under God.”
Royce started coughing uncontrollably, and Truman slapped him on the back, glancing at the judge. The judge was focused on Joshua.
The judge removed his reading glasses. “Is that a not-guilty plea on the charges?”
“I will not plead. I am only here to challenge jurisdiction.”
“When there is no plea, I enter a plea of not guilty for you,” said the judge. “Do you have an attorney to represent you at trial?”
“No. I will represent myself.”
“This court strongly recommends you have an attorney.”
“There is no need. I know my rights.”
The judge sighed. “Of course you do.” He proceeded to schedule a trial for Joshua and dismissed him.
Truman didn’t miss the stunned look on Joshua’s face.
“Did he really think the judge would dismiss the charges?” Royce whispered behind his hand to Truman.
“Of course he did. Just like he believed his diplomatic license gave him the right to drive however he wanted,” Truman answered. He stood. “We’re done here.”
“Mercy, you’ve got a visitor,” the FBI office manager, Melissa, stated as she stepped through Mercy’s open door.
“Who is it?” Mercy glanced up from her computer screen, where she’d been searching for information on the out-of-state murders that Grady Baldwin had told her about. They existed, but public details were scarce. She’d have to contact sources in both cities for more information.
“She wouldn’t give her name. But she’s got black hair and a Lab with her.”
Britta.
Mercy pushed back her chair and followed Melissa out front. Britta Vale sat in the small waiting area, Zara at her side. Again Mercy noted Britta’s constant stroking of the dog and wondered if the dog always accompanied her. Zara didn’t wear one of the service animal vests that Mercy always viewed with skepticism. Anyone could order a vest off the internet.
The tall woman was dressed for the rain in boots and a hooded jacket, her neck tattoo barely visible. Raindrops glittered on Zara’s fur, and she had wagged her tail as Mercy entered the room. Mercy greeted Britta and patted Zara’s head.
“Can I talk to you outside?” Britta asked as she glanced at Melissa, who’d returned to her desk behind a glass window.
“It’s raining,” said Mercy, curious as to what the woman wanted. “Why don’t you come to my office?”
“I’d rather not. Right outside the door is a covered area.”
Mercy agreed and buttoned up her thick cardigan as she followed Britta. Outdoors, the woman had a hard time looking Mercy in the eye. “What is it?” Mercy finally asked.
Britta took a breath and met Mercy’s gaze. “Someone was outside my home last night. Do you know who it was?”
Mercy stiffened. “No. What happened? Did they threaten you or do some damage?”
“Nothing happened. I think they left when Zara barked.” The woman’s throat moved as she swallowed. “I’d hoped you’d know if it was some sort of police investigation.”
“They would have come to your front door like I did. Why do you suspect the police?”
“I don’t. I just hoped . . . I don’t like to think of the alternative.” She bent over to rub Zara’s head.
“Tell me what happened,” Mercy ordered.
Grady Baldwin said his brother kept tabs on Britta through the internet. Has he changed to doing it in person?
“It was about two in the morning. Zara went crazy barking and jumping at the front door. I’d installed a lot of outside lights, so I have a good view right around the house. I looked out, expecting to see a coyote or cougar, but I didn’t see anything.” She swallowed again. “But I couldn’t see beyond the lighted area. It was pitch-dark last night.”
Mercy waited. She wouldn’t come to me with a possible coyote sighting.
“This morning, when I let Zara out, she immediately headed to the orchard on the east side of the house. I had her on a leash because I didn’t want her taking off after a cougar trail.”
“What did you find?”
“Boot prints under a tree. I don’t think they got any closer to the house than that.”
“That was plenty close. Could you see more tracks?”
“I followed them for a little bit, going in the direction of the main road, but then the prints disappeared because the rain washed them away except for right under the trees.”
“Did Zara try to follow the prints?”
“She led me all the way to the road, where she stopped. I think they parked on the road and walked in.”
“Someone knew exactly where they were going,” Mercy added.
It’s the right decision to contact Grady’s brother soon.
She was pleased Britta had come to her with her concern. Even if Britta didn’t admit it, on some level the woman trusted her. “How is the security at your home?”