Melvyn reached inside his coat and removed a folded-up document. He handed it to the judge. She unfolded the document, looked at it, then looked up at Melvyn.
'Last Will and Testament of Trey Rawlins?'
'Yes, Your Honor,' Melvyn said.
The judge glanced at the cameras then stood. 'In my chambers.'
They followed the judge through the door to her chambers. She was flipping through the pages of the will.
'It's not signed.'
'No, ma'am. Trey came into the office a month before he died. He instructed me to draft a will according to these terms. He said he'd sign it when he returned to town from the tour. He had an appointment the Monday after he was killed.'
The judge knew the section to turn to, and she did.
' 'I, Trey Rawlins, devise and bequeath my entire estate to my wife, Rebecca Rawlins.' '
She blew out a breath and handed the will to the D.A. The district attorney stared at the document a long moment.
'Shit.'
'To say the least,' the judge said.
'Rebecca didn't lie,' Scott said. 'Trey did propose.'
The D.A. said nothing, so the Assistant D.A. jumped in. 'Judge, this is an unexecuted, unauthenticated-'
The judge addressed the D.A. 'Rex, Melvyn just authenticated it and will with his testimony. You've contested Rebecca's testimony that Trey proposed to her and put on rebuttal testimony that he told Miss Puppy Love there that he was going to marry her instead. This rebuts your testimony. It's got to come in.'
'Your Honor-'
'Rex,' Scott said, 'you said you never wanted to send an innocent person to prison.'
'But-'
'It's not worth it, Rex,' Melvyn said. 'You won't enjoy retirement.'
'But, Your Honor-' the Assistant D.A. said.
'Jesus Christ, Rex,' the judge said, 'she's on trial for murder because she stabbed a fucking watermelon!'
Galveston County Criminal District Attorney Rex Truitt surrendered.
'Your Honor,' Melvyn said, 'there's something else.'
'Good God, Melvyn, what now?'
'Trey told me about his drug and gambling debts. Said he had gotten involved with bad people. Said he was afraid. Said he bought guns. I told him to go to the police, but he said they couldn't protect him from those people. And if word got out, they'd kick him off the tour.'
'A loaded gun was found under his pillow,' Scott said.
'If he was so afraid,' the Assistant D.A. said, 'why the hell did he sleep with the French doors open?'
The judge turned to Melvyn. 'Why didn't you say something before now?'
'Attorney-client privilege, Your Honor.'
'Your client's dead.'
'The privilege doesn't die with the client, Your Honor. The personal representative may claim the privilege. She did. Miss Rawlins demanded that I keep the will secret.'
'Why are you violating her instructions now?'
'So an innocent person doesn't go to prison.'
FIFTY-THREE
An innocent person did not go to prison. Trey Rawlins' unsigned Last Will and Testament was read into the record by his lawyer, Melvyn Burke, who testified that Trey had expressed his intent to marry Rebecca Fenney less than thirty days before his death. Twenty minutes after Scott and the D.A. had made their closing arguments and the judge had instructed the jury on the law of murder, the twelve jurors voted unanimously to acquit Rebecca Fenney of the murder of Trey Rawlins.
The next morning, the cars were packed for the trip back to Dallas. They all stood outside the beach house; the girls were getting in one last run through the surf.
'Thank you, Scott,' Rebecca said.
'Take care of yourself.' He pulled out $1,000 cash and held it out to her. 'I maxed out my last credit card.'
'No, Scott, I can't take that. You need it.'
'I have options.'
'I have jewelry.' She nodded past Scott. 'And you have company.'
The D.A. pulled up in his pickup wearing a fishing cap and smoking a cigar. He cut the engine and got out. Scott walked over; they shook hands and leaned against the truck.
'The old man and the sea,' Scott said.
'Yep. Me and Hank, we're heading over to Bolivar, surf fish with Gus. Drink whiskey, smoke cigars, eat red meat. Man stuff. You heading home?'
'Yep. Father stuff.'
'Good stuff.' The D.A. nodded toward the beach. 'Those your little gals?'
'Boo and Pajamae.'
'Cute kids.' He puffed on his cigar then gestured at Rebecca. 'She going home with you?'
'No.'
The D.A. nodded. 'When you get back to Dallas, call that fourth-grade teacher.'
'I think I will.'
'I enjoyed working the trial with you, Scott. Honest defense lawyer, nice change of pace.'
'Thanks, Rex. I've enjoyed knowing an honest prosecutor.'
The D.A. smiled. 'Two honest lawyers on the same case, what are the odds? I should've bought a lottery ticket.' He sucked on the cigar then exhaled a ring of smoke. 'Just so you know, I think the cartel killed Trey.'
'Why?'
'Benito Estrada was found dead this morning, in his bed, a knife in his chest. That's the sort of thing the Muertos would do. Send a message.'
'Damn.'
'The day he hired on with the cartel, he signed his own death warrant.'
They stared out to sea for a moment.
'Good thing you came down and defended her. Your wife. I came damn close to sending an innocent person to prison.' He puffed on his cigar. 'Scott, I really thought she did it. I wouldn't have prosecuted her if I didn't.'
'I know. You're a good man, Rex.'
'And you'll be a good judge. George-Senator Armstrong-called me this morning. Said Shelby withdrew her name for that federal judgeship.'
Scott nodded. He figured she would.
'I think I know why,' the D.A. said. 'Anyway, George said you're it. Said he'd be calling you. Congratulations.'
The D.A. stood straight and stuck a hand out to Scott. They shook again.
'I think justice was done, Scott.' He checked his watch. 'Speaking of which, I gotta go get Ted out of jail.'
'Your Assistant D.A.'s in jail?'
'Yep.'
'What'd he do?'
