“I’m not entitled to an opinion?”

“Of course you are. And sometimes I want your opinion. But there’s a difference between an opinion and ramming your agenda down my throat.”

Her voice softened. “You’re not really gonna dye your hair purple, are you?”

I sighed, then laughed. Leave it to Violet to worry about that. “No.”

“Oh, thank God, because I really don’t think I could be quiet about that.”

I caught the emphasis. “So you’re gonna let me make my own decisions about Joe?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

“But I still think I should watch Muffy. Ashley will love having her here.”

I almost couldn’t bear to leave Muffy for two days, but Violet had a point. “Okay.”

“Why don’t you bring her over before you go to work in the morning? No sense in her staying in that house all day by herself.”

“I have jury duty tomorrow, but that’s a good idea. I have to be at the courthouse at nine so I’ll bring her by beforehand.”

“Okay.” She was silent for a moment. “So you really like this guy?”

I smiled. “Yeah, I really do.”

“Just be careful.”

I knew she didn’t just mean the two-hour drive. “I’ve spent too much of my life being careful. I’m trying to live, Violet.”

“I know. That’s what worries me. I love you, Rose.”

“I love you too.”

We hung up and a heaviness settled in around me. I hated when Violet was cross, especially with me, but I knew given her recent behavior that something else was going on. Maybe I’d take her out to lunch next week and try to get her to talk.

My thoughts drifted to Joe and how Violet felt threatened by him. I couldn’t help worrying that sometime in the future I’d be forced to choose a side. The question was, which side would I pick?

Chapter Thirteen

Thankfully, Marjorie Grace called bright and early on Friday morning to say that we were to report for jury duty. Otherwise I probably would have called in sick to work. The jurors were doing better, although still feeling a little peaked. The air conditioning was working, but Judge McClary said he’d recess the trial if the jurors got gastrointestinally distressed.

Nothing stood in the way of justice in Fenton County. Not even Mrs. Baker’s breakfast casserole.

Dropping Muffy off at Violet’s was unsettling. Violet and I tiptoed around each other, but we seemed to have reached a truce. Ashley and Mikey hopped around Muffy with glee and usually she would have joined in, but she seemed to understand that she wouldn’t be leaving with me. She stood at my feet whining and I bent to rub her head. Leaning into her ear, I whispered, “You be a good girl and I’ll be back on Sunday.”

Her chin lifted and she stared at me with her pitch-black eyes, breaking my heart into pieces.

I left the house in tears, which was silly. Muffy was just a dog and I’d hardly had her any time at all. But she was my dog, and I was gonna miss the dickens out of her.

By the time I got to the courthouse, my sober mood had lightened, especially since I found a parking spot less than a block away. I couldn’t wait to leave Henryetta after court. I was beyond curious about what Joe’s condo looked like and excited to see Little Rock. But mostly I just wanted to be with Joe.

When I walked into the courthouse foyer, I set my purse on the counter and an older man greeted me with a smile.

“Morning, miss.”

I grinned. “You must be Robbie. How’s your gout? Are you feeling better?”

His eyes widened in surprise before he began to check the contents of my purse. “Why, I sure am. Thank you, miss. How’d you know?”

“Matt was eager for you to come back.”

Robbie shook his head with a laugh. “Is that right now?” He ran my purse through the scanner and handed it back. “You have a blessed day now.”

I beamed. “Thank you, Robbie. You too.”

As I waited for the elevator doors to open, I wondered if maybe I would. Although I was embarrassed about seeing Mason Deveraux III again, I knew he would ignore me in the courtroom. Violet and I weren’t fighting. I’d discovered a clue to help clear Bruce Wayne Decker. And I was going to see Joe. How could things go wrong?

The juror’s room was tense when I walked in. The people who’d gotten sick from the breakfast casserole were giving Mrs. Baker the silent treatment. She sat in the back corner dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Marjorie Grace squatted next to her, patting her arm and talking in hushed tones.

Just as I was about to go check on Mrs. Baker, Bailiff Spencer walked in and announced that it was time to go to court. I was first in line, eager to see if any new evidence would be presented to help prove Bruce innocent. I hated to think about him sitting in a jail cell all weekend.

We took our seats and waited for the judge to enter the courtroom. Mrs. Baker rested her hand on her leg, trying to hide her shaking.

I covered her hand with my own. “Don’t worry. Everyone will forget all about this by Monday.”

Her chin trembled and she whispered, “One of the jurors said that Judge McClary was fit to be tied that he had to recess the trial because of… you know.” She sniffed and glanced around. “Especially since the air conditioning finally got fixed. He said…” She wiped the tears streaming down her face with a damp tissue. “He said the judge was gonna arrest me for contempt of court.”