An outraged Santoro jumped to his feet. “Your Honor, please poll the jury!” he demanded, and Judge Vaughn stoically complied, asking each juror what was his verdict, guilty or not guilty.
Judy remained stunned as each juror repeated “not guilty,” and it took twelve “not guilty”s for her to believe it was really true, and that they had really won, and that Pigeon Tony had finally gotten justice for all he had suffered, and that nobody could take it away from him.
And then her tears came.
Once Judy and Pigeon Tony were outside the bulletproof barrier, courtroom security took over and ushered the Coluzzis out, but nobody could easily restrain the Lucias. Bennie, Frank, The Tonys, and Mr. DiNunzio surged joyously toward Judy and Pigeon Tony, enveloping them both in their embrace and crowding with them out the courthouse doors, clapping and shouting.
Judy was almost out the door when she caught sight of a woman in the back of the gallery. She did a double-take when she recognized her. Strawberry-blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a big Irish grin. It was Theresa McRea, sitting next to her husband Kevin, the subcontractor. If they were here, it must mean he would testify against the Coluzzis.
Judy saluted them, with karma to spare.
Chapter 50
It would have been nice to take off for Bermuda after the trial, but Chester County was looking good to Judy right now, as she zipped under the cool oak trees covering the wooded country road, in the cutest lime-green VW Bug ever made. Penny occupied the passenger seat, characteristically erect, her brown eyes focused out the windshield. A girl, her dog, and her car. It was good to be reunited.
Judy drove with the windows open, and the wind fluttered through her hair, levitated Penny’s raggy ears, and ruffled the newspapers on the backseat of the car. Judy turned right and downshifted as she pulled onto the property, headed for Frank’s construction site, and parked near his tool bag, of worn sailcloth. She cut the ignition and opened the door, and Penny bounded onto her lap and jumped out of the car into the mud. Judy retrieved the newspapers and got out of the car. Good thing one of them could retrieve.
Penny sprinted for Frank, who looked up from the wall-in-progress and caught the golden as she plastered muddy paws on his khaki shorts. Rocks lay in piles around his Timberlands, which were fringed with orangey mud, and Penny deserted Frank to sniff each one, her tail wagging. Moths fluttered from her in confusion, disturbed in their wandering from one dirty puddle to the next, where the topsoil lay soaking from last night’s rain. This morning had dawned muggy and hot, atypical for spring, and Judy had gotten out of the office as soon as she could, to bring the news in person.
Penny darted off to get into trouble, and Judy walked over to the wall, watching a shirtless Frank pick up a large tan stone, brace it against the thick cotton of his shorts, then strike it with the long tip of a rock hammer, making an almost musical
Judy was in no hurry to rush the moment. She sat down on a rock with the newspaper. “How do you know where to hit it?” she asked, curious.
“Rock has a grain, like wood. Particularly sandstone does. Look for the cleft, find the grain, and smack it so it breaks with the grain.”
“Of course.” Judy had no idea what he was talking about, but it didn’t matter. She liked the sound of his deep voice and the movement of his shoulder muscles under a thin veneer of perspiration. She tried not to leer, so Frank didn’t think he had become a sex object, which would have been a completely reasonable assumption given the last few days.
“The old guys, like my father, they could tell you exactly how the rock would pop. He could even send the chip where he wanted it to go.” A chunk of the rock fell to the ground, and then Frank holstered the hammer and wedged the smaller piece under the end of the rock, filling in a space Judy hadn’t seen.
“Why do you do that?”
“Shim it? Supports the foundation. The little ones do most of the work. It’s just that the big ones get all the credit.” Frank grinned and wiped his brow, leaving dark streaks on his forehead. “As in life.”
Judy scanned the wall, which curved sinuously across the top of the gentle hill. It was almost seventy-five feet long and made only of tan, gray, and iron-streaked fieldstones. No mortar at all, in the rural style of a dry retaining wall. “It looks wonderful.”
“Thanks.” Frank paused. “I own it now, you know. Settlement is next month, before it gets too cold to break ground.”
Judy didn’t get it. “Wait. What do you own? The wall?”
Frank nodded, with a grin. “I bought this property as of yesterday, from my client. Ten acres, most of it uncleared, but it’s still land.”
“You’re kidding!”
“So now it’s my wall.” Frank turned and pointed behind him, to lower ground. “The house will be there.”
“House?”
“I can build it.”
“By yourself?”
“Nah.” Frank turned and pointed toward the oak grove, where Pigeon Tony began the long trek toward them. “I got the little stones to help, like that one.”
Judy smiled. “Jeez! And I thought I had news.”
Frank cocked his head. “What’s your news?”
Judy opened the newspaper, held it up, and showed him the headline. She knew what it said. JOHN COLUZZI ARRESTED FOR MURDER OF BROTHER MARCO.
“They announced today, huh?” Frank set down his hammer and accepted the paper.
“The proverbial good news and bad news.” Judy winced. “Jimmy Bello turns on John Coluzzi in return for a lighter sentence on your parents’ murder. Bello even produced the ski masks and bloody clothes, which he was supposed to stash after they killed Marco. The D.A. said he has John nailed.”
Frank’s lips parted as he read the story, and Judy waited for his reaction. In the background she could see Pigeon Tony getting closer, in his baggy pants and blousy white shirt. After a minute Frank looked up from the paper. “They don’t say how light the sentence will be,” he said, dry-mouthed.
“It won’t be that light, they told me, and it’ll run consecutively, so he’s locked up for a good, long time.”
“I can meet with the judge when the time comes, as victims’ family, right?”
“Right. I’ll go with you.”
“Good.” Frank squinted against the sun. His broad chest heaved up and down with a deep sigh. “Not the worst thing in the world. Justice, in a way.”
“In a way. And Dan Roser’s lawsuit goes forward, against John and the company. With Kevin McRea’s testimony, Coluzzi Construction is out of business.”
Frank handed her back the newspaper. “Sometimes that’s the best the law can do,” he said quietly. “Maybe it’s time to end all this, huh?”
“You mean the hate part? The hostility and the war?”
Frank smiled. “The vendetta.”
“So the vendetta ends. Excellent. From now on there will be only peace, stone walls, and houses in the country.”
“And love,” Frank said. He leaned over and kissed Judy gently, without her even asking.
“Judy!” came a shout, and Judy managed to unlock her lips. Behind Frank, Pigeon Tony was walking, with Penny dancing circles at his side. He carried a Hefty bag, and Judy knew it had to be full of lunch and laundry. But Pigeon Tony’s straw hat was tilted at an unusual angle, and something she couldn’t see clearly was on his shoulder.
“How do you think he’ll take the news?” she asked, shielding her eyes to see Pigeon Tony better. Something appeared to be sitting on his shoulder, and Penny kept jumping up to get it.
“I told him we’d have to make the deal, and he’s okay with it. He’s stronger than both of us and this wall put together.” Frank turned and waved at his grandfather. “He’s already talking about rebuilding his loft, at home, so he
