Page 52 of Shelter for Shay
“We were friends during our youth but haven’t spent that much time together in the last six years or so.”
“Do you believe him to be a good lawyer?” Jacob asked.
“He works for the firm your dad started, which is supposed to be one of the best in the state, so I’d say so.”
That caught a chuckle from everyone in the room, including the judge. Not really the response Shay was going for. But she really hoped these personal questions got her kicked off.
“Your honor, I have no issue with this juror.” Jacob sauntered back to his table and took a seat. He gave her a weak smile as if he understood the hell he might be putting her through. But he did have a job to do, and she had to respect that.
Patrick rose, one hand in his pocket, the other loosely holding a folder. He looked her up and down like he was picking apart a résumé.
“It’s good to see you again, Ms. Whitaker,” Patrick said. “Since the DA ended on the notion we have a history, let’s get that out of the way. Do you harbor any ill will toward me that might interfere with your ability to be fair and impartial?”
“No,” she said.
“Ms. Whitaker, you mentioned you’ve watched the news and seen the footage.”
“Yes.”
“Have you formed any opinions based on that?”
“I’ve tried not to,” she said carefully. “I understand that media coverage isn’t the full story. That not all the evidence has been released. I do get how the system works.”
“Innocent until proven guilty.” He arched a brow. “Fair point. Your mother was a school counselor,” he said.
“She was.”
“Do you think growing up with someone in a helping profession has shaped your opinion about authority figures or law enforcement?”
“I’m sure it has,” she said honestly.
“So, would you say you’re inclined to believe everything a police officer says? That you’d take his or her word over someone else’s?”
“To be honest, that’s not a fair assumption because it would depend on the situation,” she said. “People are human. Cops are human. And while the majority of them are good, there are one or two that might not be. That rings true for every profession.”
“What you’re saying is that you can keep an open mind while testimony, evidence, and facts are presented and make a judgment later.”
Well, crap. She walked right into that one. “Yes,” she said.
Patrick nodded. “Your honor, I have no problem with this juror.”
She exhaled and fiddled with her nails while the lawyers asked questions of other potential jurors. Then the judge asked both sides to approach, voices muffled beneath the static buzz of white noise from the speakers.
After a long minute, names were called.
Her name was third.
Shay felt the breath leave her chest. She looked up, catching Jacob Donovan’s quick glance her way. Not smug. Not apologetic. Just neutral.
The judge’s voice echoed through the room.
“Jury selection is complete. The trial will begin one week from today.”
Shay’s hand shook. She had no idea what was coming—but she could feel it, just beneath the surface.
13
MOOSE – LATER THAT NIGHT, MARGARET’S HOUSE
