The List (56 page)

“Wow. What are you going to do?”

“I want to send the information you provided to Miami. Also, could you get an affidavit from your client outlining what he knows about the group?”

“I'm on my way.”

A. L. had a laptop computer and portable printer on the table when Renny came in and sat down.

“How did it go with the D.A.?”

“She's fine. They will drop all the misdemeanor charges and not oppose a first offender petition on the felony. We're going to talk with the judge before court in the morning. You will be brought over at 9:00
A.M
., and I'll see you in the courtroom.”

“OK, but I'm getting nervous.”

“We'll pray Proverbs 21:1; the judge's heart is in the hand of the Lord, and he will direct it. I've seen it happen many times.”

“Thanks. Why did you bring the computer and printer?”

“I need an affidavit from you. Let me tell you what happened with the IRS…”

Renny shook his head when A. L. finished. “So, they weren't satisfied with a Swiss bank's rate of return and decided to go out on the open market and double their money in the drug trade.”

“Apparently. If this guy Parmero talks, the whole thing could come down.”

“When will you find out?”

“I don't know, but I told my contact they needed to act fast. Ready?”

“Yes.”

For a man with ham hocks for hands, the lawyer typed with amazing speed.

“Here we go. ‘Before the undersigned officer, duly authorized to administer oaths, appeared Josiah Jacobson, who, being duly sworn, states the following on personal knowledge, information, and belief. . . .'”

Fourteen paragraphs later, the big man typed “Further affiant saith not” and sent it to the printer.

“If possible, I would like to soften the blow for Gus Eicholtz. I know there is some retribution planned against him because of our discussions.”

“I'll mention that in a cover letter to Barnwell with the affidavit.”

While the document was inching out of the printer, A. L. asked, “What are you thinking?”

“I was wondering if this affidavit is connected to the Josiah verses. It could possibly bring down judgment on the List. Can you think of anything else I need to do?”

“Hmm, I'm not sure. Let's get through tomorrow morning first.”

As Renny's flip-flops hit the concrete corridor, Daisy Stokes was walking in her bedroom slippers to the kitchen to get a sip of water. Over the last three days she had slept less than ten hours and had lost a noticeable amount of weight from her already spare frame. She had experienced two instances of crushing pain in her chest, and thoughts of a heart attack and sudden death assailed her in an effort to distract her from her mission and purpose. Though she wavered, she repelled the attacks and, like Aaron and Hur, stayed at her post. She called Agnes Flowers, and the two of them spent an hour strategizing, praying, interceding, and encouraging each other. Daisy started to mention the Lord's word about being poured out to her new friend, but she stopped, realizing it was a privilege not to be shared with anyone else.

As she grew weaker, Mrs. Stokes began experiencing the reality of 2 Corinthians 4:16–18: “Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

Knowing that her physical strength was coming to an end, she asked the Lord, “How long?”

He responded: “
Through Shabbat.
” Two more days, through sundown Saturday.

Renny was alone in the cell. Unable to sit still, he paced back and forth with tigerlike restlessness. Something was building inside him, but it had not yet assumed a form he could express. He quoted Psalm 23 and prayed for Jo, but it failed to satisfy the burden within his spirit. He looked up Proverbs 21:1 and spent time asking for favor when he appeared before the judge the next morning. Next, he thanked the Lord for his help in the midst of incredible difficulty and pressure. Yet, the deep-seated unsettledness remained. What was wrong? What had he forgotten to do? What had he failed to consider? Without resolving any of his questions, he lay down on his bunk and tried to sleep, but spent the rest of the night tossing and turning on the thin mattress.

After the sleepless night, Renny better fit the popular concept of a convict. Dark lines under his eyes, it took several splashes of cold water to bring his surroundings into clear focus.

Still wearing his white jumpsuit, he was handcuffed and linked together with leg chains to four other prisoners for transport in a windowless van to the courthouse. A guard with a shotgun sat beside the driver in the front seat of the vehicle. The van parked behind the courthouse, and the prisoners were taken to a special elevator complete with bars across the door. On the third floor, the shotgun-toting guard followed them down a short hall to a special holding cell. Another guard removed the handcuffs and leg irons from all of the prisoners except one, a surly, brooding man who had “love” crudely tattooed across one set of knuckles, “hate” across the other, and a large black spider etched on his neck so that four of its legs and part of its body appeared to be creeping up from beneath his shirt collar.

“His Honor will see you now,” the judge's secretary told the two lawyers.

A. L. and Virginia Adams entered the private lair of Judge Wray Kincaid, a balding, slender man in his late fifties who rarely smiled and maintained an inscrutable demeanor to all who appeared before him. Surrounded by hundreds of books containing the wisdom of judicial sages long since departed to the place of their own final judgment, Judge Kincaid waved them to two seats before his polished wooden desk.

“Who's so important that you need to see me?” he asked brusquely.

“Josiah Jacobson, Your Honor. He's on today's docket for sentencing on an attempted burglary charge.”

Judge Kincaid found Renny's name on the morning's order of business. “Yes?”

“We would like to enter a guilty plea on a first offender petition.”

“Do you have the incident file, Ms. Adams?”

“Yes, Your Honor.” She handed him the folder.

They waited while the judge scanned the few pages in the file.

“You're sure the defendant has no prior criminal convictions?”

“We found none on the computer,” she said.

“He's a lawyer from Charlotte,” A. L. said. “He just passed the bar exam, so he would have undergone an extensive background check in North Carolina.”

Judge Kincaid's eyes narrowed. “A lawyer. Did he think it appropriate for an officer of the court to come to Georgetown County and attempt to break into a beach house?”

“No, sir, and he wants to enter a guilty plea without any delay.”

The judge opened the incident file and squinted at the investigator's handwriting.

“There were no weapons involved?”

“No sir.”

“Any indication of threats against the victim, Mr. LaRochette?”

“No sir.”

“Ms. Adams, what is your position on the first offender petition?”

“We do not oppose it, Your Honor, and defer to your discretion.”

“I imagine you would,” the judge said dryly.

“Mr. Jenkins, your client may enter his plea, but I will not commit at this time to accepting the petition. You may so inform your client.”

A. L. felt sweat running down inside his shirt. “Yes, Your Honor. Your consideration is appreciated.”

“What do you think, Virginia?” A. L. asked as they walked down the hall toward the courtroom.

“The investigative report was routine. I think the judge wants to make young Jacobson twist in the wind for a while.”

“He's been doing that longer than the judge realizes. It's time to cut him down.”

“I'll try to pick a good time to call the case, A. L. That's all I can do.”

A. L. went to the holding cell and Renny came to the bars. “We talked with the judge.”

“And?”

“He wouldn't commit beforehand. The D.A. says the investigative report is routine—no weapons, threats of violence. Judge Kincaid may want to dress you down in public. I just don't know.”

Renny's shoulders slumped over. “What should I do?”

A. L. thought a moment. “Stand up straight, answer his questions respectfully, and believe in Proverbs 21:1. Remember, the king's heart is in the hand of the Lord. I will be with you to add anything extra.”