Part 27 (2/2)

Judge Connelly banged several times on the bench with her gavel. ”I'll have order! Order in the court!” After the courtroom had quieted down, Connelly peered down at Helen and nodded. Then she turned to the defense table. ”Will the defendant please rise?”

Tom, Rick, and Bo all stood in unison.

”It is the court's decision to grant the prosecution's motion to dismiss. All charges brought by the State of Tennessee against the defendant, Bocephus Aurulius Haynes, are hereby dismissed with prejudice.” Smiling, Judge Connelly looked at Bo. ”Mr. Haynes, you are free to go.”

75.

Bocephus Haynes closed his eyes and let the tears come. He felt hands on his back and looked up into the smiling face of Rick Drake.

”Congratulations, Bo,” the boy said, his bloodshot eyes rimmed with tears. ”We did it!”

Bo picked his young lawyer off his feet and pounded the lawyer's back until Rick started to cough and both of them began to laugh. ”You're all right, Drake. You're my believer.”

”Never a doubt,” Rick said, wiping his eyes.

Bo turned, searching for Jazz, but the entire courtroom was drowned out by the sight of Booker T. Rowe picking Bo off the ground and hugging him tight.

”So happy for you, cuz,” Booker T. said.

Then there was Jazz, smiling through her tears and falling into Bo, letting him hug her and kiss her cheek.

”I'm so sorry, Jazz. I'm so d.a.m.n sorry. For everything.”

”Just shut up and hold me,” Jazz said, and Bo did, holding her tight and then embracing T. J. in a three-way hug.

Finally, Bo pulled back from her, and she said the words that Bo was thinking himself. ”Where's the Professor?”

Bo turned his head 180 degrees, looking for Tom and initially not seeing him. Then, lowering his eyes to the defense table, he saw his friend.

Thomas Jackson McMurtrie sat unmoving in his chair. After Judge Connelly had dismissed the case and told Bo he was free to leave, Tom's legs had given way, and he had almost fallen down into his seat. Now he watched the scene unfolding in front of him like it was a movie. His eyes were moist with tears, but he made no move to wipe them.

”Professor,” Bo said, standing above him and gently placing his hand on Tom's shoulder. ”Are you OK?”

Tom found he didn't have the words. He gazed up at his friend . . . his best friend . . . but still couldn't say anything. He moved his mouth but no words came.

”We did it,” Bo said. ”You did it. You saved my life.”

Finally, as if he were beginning to come out of a trance, Tom nodded and held his hand out.

Bo took it and leaned over him, grabbing his shoulder and kissing his check. ”Thank you, Professor.”

From behind Bo came Jasmine Haynes, who planted her own kiss on Tom's forehead. ”Thank you, Professor. Thank you so much.”

Then there was Rick, extending his hand. ”We did it, Professor,” Rick said.

Coming out of his funk, Tom shook his partner's hand and motioned both him and Bo to come closer. ”We need to talk with Ray Ray,” he said. Then, holding his eyes on Bo's, ”It's not finished yet.” He paused and exhaled a ragged breath. ”Not all of it.”

76.

Deputy Hank Springfield led Ray Ray Pickalew down the winding staircase to the lobby floor of the courthouse. Ray Ray's hands were cuffed behind him. On most days the courtroom was empty at 4:45 p.m. Today it was a madhouse, and both the second floor and lobby floor were humming with reporters, spectators, and friends of either Bo or the Waltons. Most of them had either watched Ray Ray's confession live or seen it on television. Questions poured in from every direction. ”Why did you wait so long to come forward, Mr. Pickalew?” ”Did the state offer you a deal for your testimony?” ”Are you still in the Ku Klux Klan?”

Ray Ray ignored all the questions, keeping his head down. He hadn't said a word since Hank had entered Judge Connelly's clerk's office to lead him away.

At the foot of the stairs Hank heard a familiar voice yelling behind him.

”Hank, wait!” Bocephus Haynes shuffled down the stairs, with Rick Drake following behind. The reporters and spectators had crowded around them to the point where movement was becoming difficult.

More questions poured in. ”Mr. Haynes, is there anything you'd like to say now that the trial is over?” ”Mr. Haynes, do you feel vindicated?” ”Mr. Haynes, do you believe Mr. Pickalew's confession to your father's murder?”

At the mention of Ray Ray's name, Bo looked past Hank to Ray Ray, whose hands were cuffed behind his back. Bo stepped forward, his gaze burning into Ray Ray, who lowered his eyes to the ground.

”Why'd you do it, Ray Ray?” Bo asked, leaning toward him so that none of the spectators and reporters could hear him. ”Why now?”

”Bo, there is a time and place for those questions,” Hank said, beginning to move forward with Ray Ray and motioning for the deputies in front and back to do the same. They walked in what almost looked like a conga line toward the double doors leading out to the west side of the square. ”This isn't it.”

”Wait,” Bo said. ”One question, Ray Ray. Right now I have to know.”

The deputy in front pushed the doubled doors open, and sunlight poured through the opening. Bo was momentarily blinded and held his arm up to block the sun. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

”Bo, let's go back inside,” Rick said. ”We can ask him later. It's too crazy out there.”

But Bo wasn't listening. He needed to talk with Ray Ray, and he didn't want to wait. He had waited forty-five years, and he would not wait any longer.

He continued to follow Hank, Ray Ray, and the other deputies out the doors of the courthouse.

Rick trailed Bo through the doors to the outside, feeling his cell phone rattle in his pocket. He grabbed for it and saw that he had missed eleven text messages. Ten were from Powell. In all the excitement over Ray Ray's testimony, Rick had turned his phone on silent and forgotten to check it.

As he descended the steps, Rick scrolled through them all. The first one read: Do not exit the courthouse without police protection. Probably nothing, but I think JimBone may be on the square. All of the others were shortened to: Don't leave the courthouse without calling me first.

d.a.m.nit, Rick thought, looking up into the bright light and seeing a wave of white-hooded and white-robed Klansmen lining the west side of the square. ”Bo, wait!” Rick yelled, but his voice was drowned out by the questions of the reporters closing in around them. The Klansmen, who were being kept at bay by four or five deputies who had cleared a path from the courthouse steps to Hank's squad car, had also begun to hurl expletives and chants of ”Murderer” when they recognized Bo.

Pressing forward, Rick tried to catch up.

There were still several reporters in front of him when he heard the first gunshot.

<script>