He paused then asked in a guarded tone, “What are you talking about?”

“I got picked for jury duty. If I don’t show up, they’ll arrest me.”

I heard his exhale of relief.

“Wait. What were you thinkin’?”

He laughed. “Darlin’, with you there’s just no telling. So you made jury duty, huh? What kind of case?”

“That’s why I was so desperate to talk to you. I have a problem. I had a vision about the case. ”

Joe didn’t seem that surprised. “And?”

“Joe, it’s a murder trial and the defendant’s innocent.”

“How do you know he’s innocent?”

“I told you. I had a vision.”

“Why don’t you start from the beginning and tell me everything.”

“Are you sure it’s okay? I’m not supposed to talk about the case.” I’d wanted to talk to him for two days but now worried I was breaking the law.

“It’s okay. I’m a detective with the state police. I won’t tell anyone, and I sure won’t try to sway your decision.”

It was a relief to share my problem, especially with Joe. I told him everything, starting with Officer Ernie giving me a parking ticket and ending with leaving the courthouse that afternoon. I didn’t tell him about my evening at Violet’s. I didn’t want to make him worry, especially when I wasn’t the least bit interested in Austin Kent.

When I finished, Joe sighed. “Oh, Rose. I’m so sorry. I wish I’d been around to talk. I know how hard this has to be for you.”

My voice broke. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“I know, let’s work through it, okay? What do you see as your options?”

I wiped a tear from my cheek. “My first option is to tell the assistant D.A. what I know.”

“Okay, do you think that would work?”

“No.” I scoffed. “He’d never believe me for one thing and for another, he’d think I was crazy. For some bizarre reason, he purposely got me on the jury. I’d almost feel like I was lettin’ him down.”

Joe’s voice hardened. “You don’t owe Mason Deveraux anything, got it? This is about you, not that stuffy-ass assistant D.A.”

How did Joe know about Mason Deveraux? I didn’t remember mentioning his name. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“What’s your next option?”

“I could tell the defense attorney, but hates me and he’d never believe me.”

“Okay, next?” Joe didn’t ask why the defense attorney hated me, just accepted it.

I closed my eyes, concentrating. “Maybe I could leave an anonymous tip.”

“What do you think you’d say?”

I groaned in frustration. “I guess there’s not much to say, is there? That the pin belongs to some mysterious man who murdered the victim, but I don’t know who it is, only that he was at the courthouse on Monday morning, he likes crossword puzzles, and he has a cat.”

“What’s your other option?”

“I don’t have any other options, Joe. Not that I can think of.”

“I know one.”

I sat up. “What?”

“You do nothing.”

“What? I can’t do—”

“Rose, trust the system. This guy is innocent until proven guilty.”

“No he’s not, trust me. Everyone think he’s guilty—from the jury to the police, and as little as Mr. Yates is tryin’, I suspect he thinks he’s guilty too.”

“Rose…”

“No, Joe. You’re not in there. Mason Deveraux has all of this circumstantial evidence and Mr. Yates isn’t fightin’ any of it and the jury’s eatin’ it all up, which I don’t understand. Even without a vision, I could tell that Bruce Wayne didn’t smash that guy’s head in. He’s right handed and the wound was on the right side. The murderer is left handed.”

“How in the world do you know that?”

“I saw it in my vision. He was doing a crossword puzzle and he wrote the word in with his left hand.”

“Rose.” Joe’s voice tightened and clipped the end of my name, the sign he was frustrated with me. “That doesn’t mean a thing.”

“Of course it does. Someone right handed would have hit the victim on the left side, how could they all miss that?”

“Rose, they were probably fightin’. Fights are ugly and they’d be moving around. The victim wasn’t just standing there waiting to get his head bashed in.”

“I’m not stupid, Joe McAllister. I know that.” I growled in irritation—I’d just called him Joe McAllister out of habit.

“I’m sure they’re reasoning that there was a scuffle. That’s why no one is questioning the placement of the wound. You may be right, though. If the murderer is left-handed, the wound is more likely to be on the right side. But Rose, that’s hardly enough to exonerate the defendant. Especially since they found the murder weapon on his property.”

“Well, then what am I going to do?”

“You’re going to do nothing and trust the system.”

“I can’t let an innocent man go to jail, Joe.”

“I’m not sayin’ you are, but for now, do nothing.”

I sucked in a deep breath, fighting back my frustration. “Joe, that could have been me. If things had turned out different, I could be in jail right now, waiting to be tried for her murder. And I’d have been convicted, too. You know that.”