“Let me see what you have,” the judge said.
Mike handed a single sheet of paper to the judge, who quickly scanned and signed it. The judge sat back in his chair.
“I’ve missed seeing you in my courtroom. How’s the four-legged Judge doing?”
“Still barking at anyone who doesn’t agree with him.”
“I ought to name my new pointer Preacher,” the judge responded.
“Only if he points in the right direction.”
Judge Coberg rewarded Mike with a rare smile.
“Are you enjoying the ministry?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Still have an itch to practice law?”
“No, sir. My involvement in this case is not the sign of a trend.”
The judge nodded. “Nonetheless, I’m glad you’re helping Sam Miller. He’s a unique individual. I’ve known him a long time and was surprised to see him on the criminal calendar. Do you think I should recuse myself?”
Mike stepped back in surprise. “Why?”
“Because I like his cauliflower.”
“He mentioned that to me, but I don’t have any objection to you sitting on the case.”
“The DA might. I’m going to send you and Ken West a disclosure memo about my prior contact with Mr. Miller.”
“You’ve rubbed shoulders with a significant percentage of the people who live in Barlow County,” Mike protested.
“How many of them are like Sam Miller?”
Mike studied the judge’s face. The dark eyes revealed nothing.
“We’re all different,” Mike replied slowly. “How is Mr. Miller unique?”
A slight smile again lifted the corners of the judge’s mouth. “You don’t have me on the witness stand or kneeling at the altar, Reverend Andrews. If you have to ask that question, you don’t know your client.”
MIKE MADE SEVERAL COPIES OF THE ORDER, FILED THE ORIGINAL in the clerk’s office, and dropped a copy by the DA’s office. He left the courthouse and walked to the jail. Mike took off his jacket and threw it over his shoulder. At the jail, he handed the Order to the officer on duty.
“I’ll send word around to the back,” the deputy said. “They’ll bring him up.”
While he waited, Mike called Muriel Miller and gave her the good news. Her voice cracked with emotion as she thanked him, and he could imagine the tears rolling down her wrinkled cheeks.
“How long will it take you to get here?” Mike asked her.
“I don’t know. I left the truck’s lights on last night, and it has a dead battery. I’m still waiting for someone to come by and give me a jump start.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Mike said. “I can bring Sam to your house.”
“But that’s out of your way.”
“It’s not a problem. I don’t have to be anywhere else, and I only have one client.”
In a few minutes, Sam came out wearing blue jeans and a denim shirt.
“I’m taking you home,” Mike said. “Muriel knows you’re coming but couldn’t pick you up because the battery in your truck is dead.”
“That’s happened before. She doesn’t like walking up to a dark house.”
Outside, Sam looked up at the sky.
“The grass has been growing, and so have I,” he said. “Ninety-six days in jail is a long time. It was tough, but I can see why so many of Papa’s children have been locked up. It forced me to think seriously about some things.”
Mike didn’t take the bait. “I’m parked at the courthouse,” he said. “Can you walk that far?”
“My legs are fine,” Sam replied. “It’s my jaw that hurts.”
Sam set a surprisingly brisk pace. Mike fell in beside him.
“You’re a fast walker,” Mike said.
“When you make your living walking behind a lawn mower, you can’t be a slowpoke. Muriel is worried about my heart, but I get more exercise than most men half my age.”
“I didn’t say anything to her about your jaw.”
“Thanks. They took away the boy who hit me, and he didn’t come back. I was sorry to see him go.”
“Why?”
“After someone hurts you is often the best time to help them. They’re invulnerable.”
“You mean vulnerable.”
“That, too.” Sam shook his head. “I’m going to have to stop trying to impress you with my vocabulary.”
They passed the local drugstore where Mike enjoyed ice cream cones when he was a boy. No longer dressed in jailhouse garb, Sam looked even less like a criminal. The old man glanced around as they walked and seemed to study each person they encountered on the sidewalk.