By reason of insanity

5

As Strackman polled the jury members, asking them one by one if this represented their verdict, Quinn tried to sort through his jumbled emotions. Anger. Despair. Heartbreak for his sister, sitting next to him in shell-shocked silence. Apprehension about whether to make this next move-a self-destructive bombshell, but one that might gain his sister's freedom.

"Juror number three, is this your verdict?"

"Yes."

"Juror number four, is this your verdict?"

"Yes."

Quinn stared at each juror, trying to shame them into changing their minds. But like every other case he had ever lost, they ignored him and looked straight at the judge, affirming the verdict like good little soldiers.

"Juror number five, is this your verdict?"

The woman swallowed hard and hesitated. Tears rimmed her eyes, and a brief flicker of hope stirred in Quinn. C'mon… C'mon… I know you didn't want this.

"Yes."

Another gut punch-the cruelty of hope created and shattered.

"Juror number six, is this your verdict?"

"Yes."

"Juror number seven-" Judge Strackman stopped midsentence, his face twisted with concern. Juror five had her hand in the air. "Yes?" Strackman asked.

"It's not my verdict," the woman blurted out. She stole a glance at Quinn, who quickly nodded his encouragement. "I'm sorry, Your Honor. I only agreed to the verdict so I could get this ordeal over with-to get these people off my back. It's not my verdict. I think she's innocent."

A few of the other jurors shook their heads in disapproval; the Hofstetters let loose with a few muted curses. The entire courtroom buzzed with excitement. This was better than Cirque du Soleil!

Energized, Quinn jumped to his feet, demanding a mistrial. Carla Duncan stood as well, but the look on her face said it all. Juror five had just blown this trial right out of the water.

"Order!" Strackman barked, banging his gavel with uncharacteristic force. "Order in the court!"

He glared at the juror, and Quinn knew what was coming. "Ms. Richards," the judge began, taking the unusual step of calling the juror by name, "you have just nullified this entire trial, causing this court a tremendous amount of frustration, wasted tax dollars, and wasted time. If you had reservations, I wish you would have stayed in the jury room and tried to work them out. As it is, I have no choice but to declare a mistrial."

Julia Richards, juror five, nodded solemnly. But she held her head up, as if she might actually be proud of what she had just accomplished. Though she wasn't really his type, Quinn wanted to walk over to the jury box and kiss the woman.

He thought about that old cliche- a tie is like kissing your sister. But after hearing the word guilty, this "tie" felt like cause for celebration. He placed his arm around Annie's shoulder and settled for a reserved hug. Then, ever so carefully, he folded the single piece of paper in front of him and slid it back into the legal pad. Still abuzz, the reporters all thought they had a blockbuster story for the evening news.

They should have seen the one that got away.