Page 62 of The River We Remember
Charlie studied him. He was only forty years old, but like most men who’ve worked the land, his face held deep creases, the results of long hours squinting against a blazing sun. His eyes were narrow, the irises dark brown. Bluestone seldom looked her way as they spoke, choosing instead to stare at the sky outside the window at the end of the cellblock.
“Murder, Noah. That’s as serious a charge as anyone can have leveled against them,” Charlie said. “But you don’t believe you need a lawyer?”
“I don’t intend to fight it.”
“Because you’re guilty?”
He didn’t reply.
“Our legal system is complicated, Noah, and terribly flawed, and even in simple cases things can be very difficult. Murder isn’t a simple case.”
It was as if he hadn’t heard. He just stared at the tiny, framed patch of sky.
“Do you intend to represent yourself?”
“I don’t intend to do anything,” he said.
“Just accept what happens to you, is that it?”
No reply and he still would not look at her.
“If you didn’t kill Jimmy Quinn, why not say so?”
“Who in this county would believe what an Indian says?”
“I would.”
He laughed, which surprised Charlie. “That’ll get me sprung for sure.”
She smiled. “Yeah, neither of us’ll ever get voted citizen of the year here. In a way, Noah, that makes us a good pair.”
He finally looked at her. “How do you figure?”
“We’re both seen here as folks who don’t quite fit in. We begin with some understanding of each other.”
He lost his good humor. “You don’t understand me.”
“All right. But I do understand the situation you’re in, and I know you’ll need help if you want to get through this.”
“I’ll get through this my own way.”
“Is that what your wife wants?”
“Leave my wife out of this.”
“Impossible, Noah. Going forward, she’ll be hit with a storm of questions. Our sheriff will press her for what she knows. Our county attorney will do the same. Questions will be coming from all kinds of folks, one way or another. She doesn’t have to answer, but wouldn’t it be better if someone were with her and on her side when that happens?”
Bluestone thought on that awhile. “Maybe,” he said.
“So you’ll let me represent you?”
He gave a nod, though she could see his heart wasn’t in it.
“Good. Now, let’s get down to business. Remember that everything we talk about is confidential. It stays between you and me. In this country, not even God can pry it out of me. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Brody says you had good reason to want to see Quinn dead. Tell me about that.”
