On a feline yowl, the cat darted across the top of the bench, scattering papers in a cloud and tipping over a glass filled with water.
“Desiree! Desiree!” the judge shouted, futilely grabbing for the cat. His toupee loosened and slid down over one eye.
Waffle stood on his hind legs, frantically scratched on the side of the bench, trying to climb it.
Sandi clasped her jaws with her palms, looking on in horror. A hooting laugh came from the group sitting behind her.
Waffle darted around the front of the judge’s bench upending the court reporter and tipping her backward. Her equipment hit the floor with a loud clatter and crash. Nick rushed forward to aid her.
Sandi lunged for Waffle’s leash, but he was too quick. He began pawing and clawing at the opposite side of the judge’s bench. The cat met him yowling and hissing. Perched on its haunches, it boxed Waffle’s nose. Waffle barked and whined and clawed at the side of the judge’s bench.
The judge finally grabbed the cat with both hands, but the short-haired animal, as if it were greased, escaped, leaped to the rail that separated the jury box from the courtroom and dashed across the jury panel chairs. Waffle chased after it, barking and clawing his way over the chairs. The bailiff followed.
“Order! Order! Goddammit, I said order!” The judge banged his gavel so hard the handle broke and his toupee flipped off and onto the bench. He collapsed into his chair and fell back, his bald head shining, his glasses askew.
Two armed policeman rushed in. Fearing for Waffle’s safety, Sandi hiked her skirt and climbed over the jury box rail. Stumbling and falling through the chairs, she captured Waffle by flinging both arms around his neck. He continued to bark and strain against her, dragging her through the jury box chairs until he escaped her grip altogether.
All at once, the cat was nowhere to be seen. Calm began to return. Sandi found herself lying prone across two chairs. She sensed a presence and looked up. Nick loomed over her, a tight grip on Waffle’s collar. “Are you all right?”
Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it might jump out of her chest. “Do I look like I’m all right? Don’t speak to me.”
She struggled to a sitting position. Her stockings were torn, she had lost a shoe and a sheaf of her chignon had come loose and hung down the side of her face.
Nick offered a hand. She took it and got to her feet, then yanked up her skirt and climbed over the jury box rail a second time. She looked around. Her aunt and her friends stood in a line behind the gallery rail, anxious looks on their faces. Her knee throbbed and burned like fire and felt as if it had been hit with a hammer. She inspected it and saw a large bleeding scrape.
“Looks like you skinned your knee. Here, let me fix it.” Nick pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket, then knelt on one knee in front of her and tied it around her knee. “There, that oughtta help ’til you can get to some first aid.” He bent over the rail, retrieved her shoe and handed it to her.
She shakily clasped his arm as she bent and slipped on her shoe. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what would make Waffle attack a cat.”
Nick shrugged nonchalantly, as if bedlam had not just occurred. “He’s a dog. Why does he stink? What did you do, spray him with perfume? And why is he so red?”
Nick’s lawyer came up behind him, clearing his throat and wiping his nose. “Can we, um, be seated? I think the judge has a statement.”
“And I’ve got a question,” Nick snapped. “What the hell is a cat doing in a courtroom?”
Leave it to a man to blame the cat, Sandi thought sourly.
Nick’s lawyer shrugged and gave an arch look. “Judge Bellamy is a cat lover. That one, Desiree, is his favorite cat. She usually stays in his chambers with him.”
“Shit.” Nick said.
Prissy had taken charge of Waffle and she and Betty Ann had removed him from the courtroom. With much grumbling and throat-clearing, Sandi’s remaining entourage took their seats. She limped back to the long table, scanning the courtroom and the destruction wrought. A little surge of guilt pinched her. They could have avoided all of this damage and turmoil if she and Nick had just done what his friend, the deputy sheriff, had suggested in the first place.
She squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her jaw tight. Dear God. How much was this going to cost her?
The judge cleared his throat. “Mr. Hester. First, I will tell you that this is a frivolous proceeding. It’s a waste of the court’s time and taxpayers’ dollars. I should instruct the county to bill you and your client for the damage done to my courtroom, but I recognize a mitigating factor.” He looked lovingly toward Desiree now resting smugly in the bailiff’s arms.
Taking his attention back to Nick, the judge continued. “Mr. Conway, I’ve read your written statement. What is wrong with you? You’re an adult. A well-educated, accomplished man. A scientist. You, sir, have a graduate college degree.”
“Yessir,” Nick said meekly.
The judge swung his gaze to Sandi and she cringed inside. “You, madam, have a college degree and as I understand it, you own your own innovative business. You are not a stupid woman.”
How the judge knew such personal things about Nick and her, Sandi didn’t know. “Yessir,” she said meekly. “I mean nossir.”
“I don’t know why anyone would want such an obnoxious dog, but I’m convinced his true owner is Mr. Conway.”
“But your honor—”
“I’m speaking, Miz Walker. I am ordering custody of the dog known as Buster—”
“It’s Waffle, your honor. His name is—”
The judge glared at her over the top of his half glasses. “Do not press your luck, Miz Walker.” He cleared his throat. “I am
