Between Black and White by Robert Bailey Page B

“I got a pint of Jim Beam from my office and took a walk. Ended up at our house on Flower Street that’s now for sale. Just feeling sorry for myself . . . and tying one on pretty good.” He sighed. “Then I went to the clearing on Walton Farm where my father was lynched. I don’t remember much about being there that night, but I know I was there. It had rained a good bit beforehand, and I noticed that my loafers were muddy the next morning.” Bo paused and looked down at the table. “That’s really all I can recall.”
    “So you threatened to kill him in front of four eyewitnesses, and you admit to being at the murder scene?”
    Bo made no response. He just continued to stare at the table.
    “Was anyone with you when you went to the farm or . . . at any time after you left Kathy’s?”
    Bo shook his head. “No. I was alone.”
    Damnit , Tom thought. He began to pace back and forth over the concrete floor, working through the problems in his mind. Bo had no alibi, he had motive out the yin-yang, and the physical evidence, which they probably wouldn’t see until the preliminary hearing, was described by the sheriff as “conclusive and overwhelming.” Tom quickly came to a stark and rather obvious conclusion. I’m in way over my head .
    He returned to his seat and looked his friend dead in the eye. “Bo, I appreciate your faith in me and Rick, but you really need an experienced criminal defense attorney to take this on, preferably someone with local ties. Have you thought about—?”
    “I am an experienced criminal defense attorney,” Bo interrupted. “What I need is a good trial lawyer who can talk to a Giles County jury. Someone who hasn’t been roughed up by the General and . . . someone I trust. I realize that we’ll need to retain local counsel, but I don’t want a Pulaski lawyer as lead.” He paused, looking Tom dead in the eye. “I want you.”
    When Tom didn’t say anything, Bo chuckled, and the bitterness in his laugh was palpable. “I don’t blame you for being scared. I’d be scared too if you asked the same of me in the face of the story I just told you.” He paused. “I am scared.”
    “Bo—” Tom started, but Bo held up his hand to stop him.
    “Professor, I haven’t made a lot of friendsin the legal community in this town over the years. Some of that is probably because I’m the only black trial lawyer in Pulaski. Even though we’re in 2011, I can still feel a subconscious awkwardness around my white brethren of the bar.” He shrugged. “And some of it is just me. I practice alone. I’ve never had a partner, and I typically blow off the social functions the bar puts on. And I am unapologetically aggressive and relentless when it comes to working a case. That approach has made me a successful attorney.” He paused. “But it hasn’t made me many friends . . . and it’s probably cost me my wife and family.”
    “Are things with Jazz really over?”
    Bo sighed. “I don’t know. Right now we are separated, and Jazz is living with her parents in Huntsville. She’s enrolled T. J. and Lila in the city schools there for the year, so . . . it ain’t looking good.” Bo chuckled bitterly. “I doubt that being charged with capital murder is going to help my cause.”
    “When did things start going south?”
    Bo shrugged. “They’ve been strained for a long time. She has always thought my obsession with my father’s murder wasn’t fair to her, to our family . . . and she’s probably right. When the kids really started getting dragged into it, she finally had enough.”
    Tom felt another pang of guilt as he saw the anguish on his friend’s face. All that time he was looking out for my butt last year, his own life was in shambles.
    Tom tried to shake off his shame and stay on point. “Bo, I’m sure any number of high-profile criminal defense attorneys from across the country would take this case.”
    Bo creased his eyebrows. “You think a jury in Pulaski,