Once the jurors were dismissed for the day, Quentin was handcuffed and then shackled, and led out of the courtroom by four deputies. He looked confident and relaxed, and stopped to glance at Alexa on the way out. Her face was expressionless, and his was slightly mocking, and then he moved on.

They had done good work that week, and Sam and Jack were pleased too. They took a minute to talk before they left the courtroom. Sam was always impressed by her precision and good judgment and had said as much to his superiors. The proof would be in the trial, of course, but he was extremely pleased by how she handled every detail. And so was Joe McCarthy, who had slipped into the courtroom several times that week to watch the jury selection process. He had added his approval to her choices, and thought she had wisely avoided some bad ones.

“Well, we’ve got our jury of twelve peers for Mr. Quentin,” Alexa said to Jack and Sam, as she put her papers and legal pads back in her briefcase. It was so heavy now that she had to pull it on wheels.

“Ready for your close-up, Ms. Hamilton?” Sam teased her as they left the courtroom. It was no surprise they were met by a wall of press who wanted to know what she thought about the jury. What felt like a million lights went off in her face.

“We’re satisfied with the jury” was all she would say as she pushed through them without further comment or expression. Jack tried to lead the way, and Sam stayed close to her with several policemen, but the heat was on her and she took it well. There was a van waiting for them outside so they could make their getaway. Alexa had a cop with her all the time now, and she had to go back to her office before wrapping up for the weekend. Jack said he’d go with her, and they dropped Sam off at the FBI office, and wished each other a good weekend. And he said he’d be available on his cell phone all weekend, they all would. Alexa had thought briefly about flying down to Charleston to see Savannah, but she knew she couldn’t. She had too much material to go over and her opening statement to polish some more.

She was just walking into her office when her cell phone rang. It was Savannah.

“I just saw you on TV,” she said proudly, “leaving the courthouse. You were great.” Alexa laughed.

“That’s rank prejudice. All I said was ‘We’re satisfied with the jury,’ and no further comment. I don’t see how you could think I was great, but thank you.” It touched her that Savannah was following it so closely.

“Daisy and Dad thought so too,” she confirmed. It had been a consensus. Luisa was out playing bridge. “You looked calm and collected, and you didn’t let them push you around. You just said what you wanted to and kept going and you didn’t let them make you nervous. At least you didn’t look it. And your hair looked good.” She had worn it in a ponytail with a satin ribbon, instead of a bun, all week. It seemed less uptight.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Well, we’ll see what happens next week. I think they’re a pretty good jury. I hope I’m right. I was thinking I might come down this weekend, but I just can’t,” she said, sounding disappointed, but Savannah wasn’t surprised.

“I didn’t expect you to, Mom. Things must be crazy for you right now.”

“Pretty much,” she admitted. “What do you have planned for the weekend?”

“I’m going to one of Turner’s games tomorrow, and he’s coming over tonight to hang out.” There was an old playroom in the basement that her brothers had used when they were young. There was a Ping Pong table and a pool table, and her father had suggested they could visit there. Luisa never went down to the basement, and it seemed more respectable than having Turner in her room.

“Say hi to him for me,” Alexa said, and then got back to work at her desk. Sam Lawrence called her a little while later.

“Am I disturbing you?” he asked respectfully. It was Friday night by then.

“Not at all. I’m still at work,” she said in a pleasant tone. He was a nice man, and working with him had gone well so far. They had a great deal of mutual respect, and he and Jack had become friends in the past months.

“Sounds like we keep the same kind of hours. I’m going to move into my office pretty soon,” he laughed. But they were all going to work night and day during the trial. Judy Dunning was too, and even more so, since she had less support, and she didn’t have the FBI helping her. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m really happy with the jury, and I thought you handled the selection process very well. You’re a real pro,” he complimented her, which was high praise coming from him. FBI agents rarely approved of anyone except FBI.

“I hope so, with a case like this.” She smiled.

“Let me know if I can do anything to help over the weekend.”

“Thanks, I’ll be fine,” she assured him. And with Savannah away, she had no distractions and no obligations other than her work.

She spent the rest of the weekend working at home, going through boxes of forensic reports and evidence, working on her opening statement, and organizing the prosecution down to the last detail. By Monday morning, she felt fully prepared.

On Monday morning, they met in Sam’s office and went to the courthouse together. The press were waiting, and it was a pushing, shoving, shouting match to get through them, and Alexa made her way through the crowd, looking calm, with five cops and Jack and Sam to help. She didn’t have a hair out of place when she got into the courtroom and sat down at the prosecution table, looking unruffled. She seemed businesslike, competent, and totally in control.

Judy Dunning was already at the defense table. Luke Quentin came in with four deputies, and sat down next to her. And five minutes later the judge walked to the bench and sat down. Court was convened. Without pause, he instructed the jury as to what was expected of them. He spoke in simple, clear terms about the process, and thanked them for giving up their time to be there. He said they had a very important job, perhaps the most important job in the courtroom, more than his as judge, or the attorneys. And they nodded and looked at him seriously as they listened.

And then Alexa rose to give her opening statement. She had been preparing it for a month. She was wearing a serious black suit and heels. She introduced herself to the jury and explained what her role was, as prosecutor. She explained that the man sitting next to her at counsel’s table, Jack Jones, was the chief investigating detective on the case, and she spoke about him for a minute. She then mentioned Sam Lawrence and explained that he was the chief senior representative of the FBI on the case. That was their team.

“And why do we have the FBI here?” she asked quietly, walking in front of them, and looking each one in the eye. “Because these crimes were committed in many states. Nine states. Eighteen young women were killed in nine states.” She didn’t overemphasize it but said it perfectly, as though to engrave the numbers in their minds. “And when state lines are crossed, when a defendant goes from one state to another to commit crimes, then the FBI gets involved, to coordinate information, so there is no mistake or confusion between local law enforcement agencies. All that information is pooled so that what we submit to you, ladies and gentlemen, is correct. Having the FBI here means it’s an important case. And it is an important case. Not because the FBI is here, but because eighteen young women died. They were violently attacked and killed. Brutally raped, strangled during sex, and killed. Eighteen of them. The youngest one was eighteen, and the oldest twenty-five, a medical student. The eighteen-year-old was a theology major.” She wanted to stress their respectability to the jury and did so effectively. All eyes in the courtroom were riveted to her, as she spoke calmly and with enormous dignity and strength. She had talent at what she did, as Jack and Sam and everyone in the courtroom observed her.