The Justice Game

94

The fallout from the Crawford case was swift and severe.

Matt Corey and James Noble were dismissed from the Atlanta police force pending the outcome of an internal investigation. Given the fact that ten years had passed since the altered accident report and the difficulties of proving that Jason was actually driving, few expected Jason or his dad to be charged with a crime. Matt Corey, on the other hand, was facing a grand jury indictment for conspiring with Andrew Lassiter by warning him about Jason’s intent to go to the authorities.

To Jason’s surprise, the FBI found no evidence to suggest that Judge Garrison had been blackmailed or otherwise involved in the plot. On the contrary, his disciplined handling of the case was now receiving widespread acclaim, earning him mention as a possible candidate for an appellate job down the road.

Meanwhile, Judge Shaver apparently had second thoughts about his own appellate aspirations. In a move that only a few insiders knew was related to the Crawford case, the judge withdrew his name from consideration for the Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals.

The major media outlets enthusiastically embraced Kelly Starling as a hero and were even forced to admit that Melissa Davids and Case McAllister had also acted courageously-in a vigilante sort of way. Public opinion about Jason’s role was hotly contested. Gun supporters eagerly gave him the benefit of the doubt, while others noted that his web of deceit had nearly cost Kelly Starling her life.

Even before the shootings in the Surf and Sand Theater, Brad Carson had discussed a deal with the FBI to grant Jason immunity in exchange for his cooperation. While Jason was in the hospital, Brad also discussed the matter informally with the head of the state bar’s disciplinary committee. According to Brad, Jason could expect to be reprimanded and placed on probation for his conduct in the Crawford case but would not lose his license since he had gone to the authorities before his client was ultimately harmed.

Jason was released from the hospital on Tuesday morning, shaved his hair down to a nub so the bald spot wouldn’t look so conspicuous, donned his Georgia Bulldogs hat, and booked a flight to Atlanta. He stayed overnight with his father and, to his great disappointment, discovered that the events of the last few days had knocked his dad off the wagon.

“I don’t want to hear any of your sanctimonious crap about my drinking,” his father said after half a dozen beers. “What else is a man supposed to do when he loses his job and his reputation just for trying to help his son?”

In the past, Jason might have responded in anger. But on Tuesday night, he just murmured an apology and headed to bed.

On Wednesday morning, Jason faced one of the most difficult ordeals of his life. He tried to get his father to go with him but was refused.

“I can’t say anything while this investigation is ongoing,” his dad said, hunched over a cup of strong, black coffee. “And even if I could, I’m not going to apologize for protecting my son. I’d do the same thing again.”

“Your call,” Jason said with a shrug. Change would not come easy for someone as proud as Jim Noble.

But a few minutes later, as Jason was rising from the table resigned to the fact that things with his dad would never change, the man said something that stopped Jason in his tracks.

“I understand why you’re doing this,” his father said without looking up. “It might not be the way I would handle it, but… regardless of what I might’ve said last night, I understand.”

Jason stared at the top of his dad’s head for a moment. The man was complicated.

“That’s all I can ask,” Jason said. He turned and headed for the door.

When Jason arrived at the church, he sat in his rental car for nearly five minutes, envisioning the upcoming meeting, talking himself out of turning the car around and leaving. There would be no acting in this one. Jason would have to take responsibility, fall on his sword, and ask for forgiveness. He would look them straight in the eye and explain how sorry he was. He would tell them that his lies had haunted him every day of his life.

He would sit there and take all of their anger, all of their vitriol, every one of their accusations and indictments. He deserved every word.

Anything he said would, of course, be a self-incriminating statement. If the Tates decided to press charges based on this meeting, so be it. Anything would be better than continuing to live with this lie.

He was sick to his stomach by the time he meekly introduced himself to Reverend Tate’s assistant. He desperately wanted to bolt, but there was no turning back now. The reverend had the door to his office closed and made Jason wait five more minutes. It was the longest five minutes of Jason’s life.

Reverend Tate came out looking serious and sad, shook Jason’s hand, and ushered Jason into the office. He looked the same way Jason remembered him-beefy and intimidating with intense brown eyes. He was a little heavier now, and his hair was peppered with gray.

Mrs. Tate was also in the office, and she greeted Jason with a hug. She had put on more weight than her husband, and her sad eyes sagged even when she briefly smiled.

Jason sat down on a small couch, as if he were at a counseling session. Reverend and Mrs. Tate sat in front of him in two side chairs, holding hands.

“We appreciate you coming,” Reverend Tate said. “Do you mind if I start with a prayer?”

The request shouldn’t have taken Jason off guard, but it did. He took off his hat, put his elbows on his knees, and bowed his head. He was so nervous he hardly heard a word the reverend said.

When Reverend Tate finished praying, he asked Jason about his shoulder.

It actually hurt like crazy, but Jason tried to shrug it off. “Just a flesh wound,” he said in a lame attempt at humor.

“Look, Jason, I know how hard it must have been coming here and facing this.” Reverend Tate stared at Jason-right through him, really-and Jason couldn’t look away. “This is all pretty fresh to us and picks the scabs off some raw wounds, but I want you to know-” he paused and looked at Mrs. Tate, who nodded along-“we need you to know that we hold nothing against you, son.”

Mrs. Tate dabbed at her eyes, and Jason realized that the reverend’s voice was cracking a little as well. “You were LeRon’s best friend, and he loved you like a brother. You boys were young, and you made a big mistake. God chose to take LeRon home. We’ve learned to accept that.”

The words stunned Jason, rendering him speechless. He hadn’t known quite what to expect, but he surely had not envisioned this. His planned mea culpa speech seemed so inadequate now. What could he say in response?

Jason was not an emotional guy, but he found himself choking back tears as he offered a meager apology. “He deserved a better friend than me. I’ve lied to you, disrespected him, used my dead friend as a…” Jason struggled for the right word, then reached back to his closing argument. “… as a scapegoat.”

He had more to say, but Mrs. Tate cut him off, her motherly instincts kicking in. “You were young. You had your whole life in front of you. We don’t blame you.”

“How can you not?” Jason asked.

“What good would bitterness do?” Reverend Tate asked, his voice strong and confident again. He was in pastor mode now. “Would anger bring our son back? Would punishing you bring him out of the grave?”

Jason shook his head, but that apparently wasn’t good enough for the reverend.

“Would it?” he insisted.

“No, sir.”

“You know that’s right,” the reverend said. “All that’s left is all that’s left. LeRon wouldn’t have wanted us puttin’ no guilt trip on you.”

They talked that way for nearly an hour, with the last half focused on memories of LeRon. As they did, Jason felt a suffocating weight leave his chest. For ten years, he had lived with guilt and deception. Now he felt like he could breathe again.

By the time Jason was ready to leave, Reverend Tate had him convinced that LeRon would actually be proud of the type of trial lawyer Jason had become.

“He’s probably watching you right now,” the reverend suggested, “talkin’ smack. ‘Have you seen my boy Jason? Ain’t nobody better than him.’”

Reverend Tate locked his eyes on Jason. “Do you mind if I preach at you for a minute, son. Sometimes, I just can’t help myself.”

“No problem,” Jason said.

Mrs. Tate smiled.

“Don’t back away from the hard cases, son. The clients nobody else wants to touch-the people everybody else gives up on. You want to honor LeRon’s memory?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then seek justice, son. That’s what you’re good at. But let me leave you with a passage from the Word to think about. You ready for this?”

Jason nodded.

“‘So speak and so act as those who are to be judged under the law of liberty. For judgment is without mercy to one who has shown no mercy. Mercy triumphs over judgment.’ That’s James chapter two, verses twelve and thirteen.”

It sounded profound, but to be honest, Jason didn’t know exactly what it all meant. He borrowed a piece of paper and a pen. He wrote down the reference.

Later, when he had time, he would look it up. He would think about it with the same intensity he brought to his cases. He would read what the experts said. The law of liberty. Mercy triumphs over judgment. The words were familiar, but the way they were strung together created concepts that were foreign. Like a mystery.

Maybe someday he would understand.