Evidentiary Discovery
John Tures
“Where did you
hide the body?” she began the interrogation.
He shook his head.
“If you don’t
tell, you’ll be found guilty!” she snapped.
He cringed a
little, but refused to divulge the location.
“I loved her growing
up,” the attorney muttered through clenched teeth. “You did this to hurt me. The
law will punish you if I don’t find her.”
It seemed that threats of violence weren’t
working. It was time for a change in tactics.
“Okay, sweetie.
You were upset with me leaving for that Atlanta trial every day. You felt angry
and unloved. I’m sorry, and I promise to work from home more often.”
The youth’s eyes
became slits, considering the offer.
“But you can’t
do
this anymore. You know it’s wrong. Just show me where you buried her and….”
She paused. “I’ll
forgive you. I won’t tell the law.”
She hated to
enable him, rewarding bad behavior. But she had to do something fast.
The youth slowly
led her into the yard, around the side of the oak tree where the attorney
wouldn’t have looked. Under the fallen leaves, there was the fresh mound of
dirt, concealing the crime.
Frantically, she
dug at the soil, ruining her carefully manicured fingernails, praying it wasn’t
too late.
She pulled the
victim free. Her Ruth Bader Ginsburg doll had dirt matted in her hair and on
her robes but could be cleaned.
Her puppy whined
pitifully.
“Naughty
Scalia,”
the attorney snapped. “Look what you did to my favorite doll! You get a
suspended sentence, but this is the law, and the law will not be mocked!”
