Breaking Matthew by Jennifer H. Westall

in her lap, saying nothing more. In the past, when she didn’t want to tell me something, she’d go completely silent. About drove me crazy sometimes. I’d never known her to tell a lie. But then again, I had to wonder if I really knew her anymore. 
    “Ruby, what exactly happened in that barn?”
    “I told you already.” She fidgeted with her hands.
    “Why did you even go in there? Did you see him go in there first? Was he already there when you went inside?”
    Ruby threw her hands up and began pacing back and forth beside the cot. “Good grief! You sound just like the sheriff! I told him the same thing I told you. I went into the barn looking for James ’cause I’d just left Emma Rae and the baby. He wasn’t in there. When I turned to leave, Chester was coming toward me, and he attacked me. Just like he did before in the woods.”
    “How did he end up with a knife in his chest?”
    She stopped pacing and put her hands over her eyes. “I’m not sure. I can’t remember it exactly. He had the knife and came at me, so I kicked my feet at him. I must have kicked the knife into his chest or something.”
    And there it was: the gaping hole in her story. The whole thing sounded fishy, even to me, and even knowing Chester had attacked her before. How was she ever going to convince twelve jurors to believe that story, if it came down to that?
    The door swung open and Sheriff Peterson stepped inside with a man who looked vaguely familiar. I’d seen his silver hair and mustache somewhere before, but I couldn’t quite place them. He had to be about my father’s age. Maybe they knew each other. As the two men approached, Sheriff Peterson called out to Ruby. She came over to the bars, her face revealing the smallest hint of worry. I stood and nodded to the sheriff.
    “This is Solicitor Charles Garrett,” Sheriff Peterson said. “He’ll be prosecuting your case, Miss Ruby.”
    “So the grand jury indicted her?” I said. “You have to be joking!”
    Mr. Garrett raised his eyebrows. “And just who are you?”
    “Matthew Doyle. I’m Ruby’s friend.”
    “Doyle?” Mr. Garrett glanced at Sheriff Peterson. “Patrick Doyle’s boy?” I nodded, and he seemed to consider that for a moment before turning his attention to Ruby. “Miss Graves, you’ve been indicted on a charge of murder. You’ll be assigned a lawyer by tomorrow morning. Bond’s been set at four thousand.”
    Ruby let out a small gasp at the same time my head nearly exploded. “What? That’s insane! There ain’t no way she should have that high a bond.”
    “I assure you, Mr. Doyle, that the bond is perfectly within reason given the charge,” Mr. Garrett said. “Now if you will excuse us, I have some questions I need to ask Miss Graves.”
    “No, that’s not how this is supposed to go,” I said. “I ain’t no expert, but I know she should have her own lawyer here if she’s answering any questions.”
    Mr. Garrett exchanged a look with Sheriff Peterson, who put a hand on my shoulder. “Now listen, son. Miss Ruby’s in good hands, and she’s gonna be just fine. I’ll look after her myself. It’s just a few preliminary questions. Nothing to get worked up over. Now, why don’t you go on and fill her mother and uncle in on the situation? I’m about to have to close up for the evening anyhow. You can come on back in the morning and visit.”
    As he talked, my muscles tightened beneath his hands. I wanted to punch him in the mouth. Did he think I was stupid or something? I pointed a finger at Ruby. “You ain’t got to answer any of their questions, you hear? Don’t say nothing till you have a lawyer with you.”
    “All right, son—” Mr. Garrett started.
    “Don’t call me son. I know what you’re trying to get away with, and I ain’t gonna stand for it.” I looked at Ruby again. “I’ll have you out of here in a jiffy. You just stay strong, and don’t say nothing.”
    I pushed past the sheriff and Mr. Garrett for the door