That night she told Duncan she was going to Washington for the day on Monday, and why.
He listened closely. “You’re going to cancel court?”
“For one day. I’m not happy about it.”
“Guy can’t see you over the weekend?”
“Monday’s the soonest.”
He nodded, but he seemed increasingly troubled.
“What is it?” she said. “What’s wrong?”
“I worry about this. It bothers me, and I know it bothers you too.”
She nodded. “You mean, talking to the FBI, talking to people in Washington?”
“About a case you’re presiding over.”
“I know,” she agreed. “But I have no choice. I think this is the only way we’re all ever going to be safe. I have to keep digging.” Her head throbbed when she thought about the upcoming hours she’d have to spend poring over the discovery exhibits again. But she’d learned that the tiniest of crevices could sometimes provide a needed handhold.
Hersh’s voice played in her head like a tape loop. You’re okay until you make that decision, thumbs up or thumbs down. Because once you do — they don’t need you anymore.
“You’re right.”
“It doesn’t make any difference how I rule, what judgment I put out.”
He nodded, listened.
“Kent Yarnell wants to bring me up before the CJC,” she said.
“On what grounds?”
She shrugged. “He eventually backed off. But whether he does or not, I’ve made my decision. It’s clear I have no choice but to resign from the bench. When this is over, I’m stepping down.”
“Jules, no,” Duncan said. “That’s—”
“I have no business judging others. You know that—”
“Damn it, that’s crazy. You’re not going to throw away the life you’ve built for yourself, Jules.”
“It’s a career, Duncan. That’s all. I can find another line of work.”
“Bullshit. It’s never just been a career for you. It’s a goddamned calling. What you live, eat, and breathe. And you have a great future.”
“Had.” Her voice was flat. “That future is in flames. I don’t know why you can’t see that.”
Duncan just shook his head. “Stay focused on the now. Get through this, leave the long-term choices for the future. You hear me, Jules? It’s the only way.”