Cry Me A River Read Online Free Page A

and watched a young black lady poke her head through.
    “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know you were with a client.”
    “That’s okay,” Captain Jack said. “Come in.”
    Tyrone followed the woman with his eyes as she entered the room and paused before Captain Jack’s desk.
    “Janell, this is Tyrone Stokes,” he said. “Mr. Stokes, this is Janell Rainer. She is my part-time paralegal.”
    “Hi,” Janell said, extending her hand.
    “Hi,” Tyrone said, rising and taking her hand in his own. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Rainer.” He released her hand, then sat back down.
    “Janell, Mr. Stokes is Marcus’s father. We were just discussing the status of his case.”
    “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said apologetically.
    “That’s okay,” Captain Jack said. “Did you need something?”
    “No, sir,” she said politely. “Just letting you know that I am here.”
    She turned and left the room, and Captain Jack resumed.
    “Mr. Stokes, the courts are not perfect. Neither are the people who sit on juries. They’re just ordinary folk subject to the same biases that affect us all.”
    He paused, let out a deep sigh, then resumed again.
    “You have a pretty sordid history. And because of that, it didn’t take much for the prosecutor to convince the jurors that Marcus was just another pea in a pod. His father was a ruffian, and so was he. The acorn didn’t fall far from the tree.”
    Tyrone looked at him but did not speak.
    “Mr. Stokes, I hurt for you, and I hurt for your family. God knows I do. But I can’t say any more to you right now than I was able to say to your wife. A jury has said that Marcus brutally raped and murdered an innocent young girl. And for that, a court of law has ruled that he must pay with his life. And so he will, if the governor says the same.”
    “There has to be something.”
    “If so, I don’t know what,” he said. “I have done all that I know to do. I filed an appeal based on the fact that we were denied a change of venue. I filed a separate appeal based on the fact that our petition to havethe jury sequestered was denied. I even challenged the composition of the jury. Mr. Stokes, as far as the appellate courts are concerned, your son had a fair trial, and the verdict will stand.”
    “What about a DNA test?” Tyrone asked.
    “There is nothing to test.”
    “Didn’t they say he raped her?”
    “No semen,” Captain Jack said.
    “How could that be?”
    “Prosecutor’s explanation … He could have worn a condom.”
    “What about—”
    “Mr. Stokes, I will petition the governor. That’s all I can do.”
    There was a long, awkward silence.
    “I want to see him.”
    “I can arrange that,” he said. “The warden is an old friend of mine.” He paused. “But I can’t do anything before tomorrow.”
    Tyrone rose to leave, then stopped.
    “How is he?”
    “Scared,” Captain Jack said. “Real scared.”
    Tyrone looked at Captain Jack, but Captain Jack was no longer looking at him. Instead, he had begun fiddling with some of the papers scattered over his desk. For him, the conversation was over. He was thinking of something else now—his next meeting, his next client, his next case.
    “How will I know?” Tyrone asked.
    “Know what?” Captain Jack responded, looking up briefly.
    “When I can see him.”
    “Leave your number with Miss Rainer,” Captain Jack told him. “I’ll call you as soon as I know something.”

Chapter
5
    W hen he left Captain Jack’s office, he did not go straight home. Instead, he drove to the small church just west of town. He did not attempt to enter the church, but rather walked around back, crossed the small, wooden footbridge, and passed through the short stand of trees that led into the tiny cemetery. Toward the middle of the cemetery, a fresh grave had been opened, and the loose, dry, excavated earth had been heaped to one side of the grave and covered with a sheet of thick white plastic. The sight of