Aftershock by Andrew Vachss Page B

now. And what is that going to be?”
    “I don’t know. Not yet, anyway.”
    “Dell, you’re scaring me.”
    “That’s the opposite of what I’m trying to do. How would you expect me to help MaryLou? Go to law school?”
    “You don’t have to talk to me like that!”
    “Dolly, you want me to try and do something, or you don’t. If you do, I will. If you don’t, I won’t. But if you want me to help, you can’t help
me
, understand?”
    I couldn’t help thinking how truly beautiful she was. From the moment I met her, Dolly’s face was always surrounded by a soft, rose-colored kind of light. I thought that aura was her own kind of perimeter. I knew her grayish eyes could go from love’s soft glow to laser strikes in a blink. But I’d never seen this kind of glow that was always around her change colors before. Now it looked like a darkening evening sky, the way it gets just before the thunderbolts come.
    “I couldn’t stand to lose you, Dell.”
    “You won’t. If it gets ugly, I’ll just walk away. And nobody will know I’ve ever been wherever I walk away from.”
    “But MaryLou—”
    “She’s yours, not mine.”
    Dolly just sat there for a few minutes. Then she reached out and took my hand.
    “She
is
mine. But if there was any risk to you, I’d walk away, too, Dell. I’ll do it right now, if you say so.”
    I squeezed her hand. Just hard enough so she’d know we had a deal.
    M onday, the courtroom was like the last bus out of a town facing a hurricane. It wasn’t big enough to hold all the people who were there when it opened, never mind those who kept trying to get in.
    I scanned them quickly, but it looked like a cross section of the town. Nobody stood out. Nobody looked at MaryLou with what I’d been watching for.
    Dolly squeezed my hand twice: “No.” So MaryLou’s parents weren’t anywhere to be seen.
    MaryLou herself was sitting at a table close to the judge’s perch, a man I didn’t know next to her. I could see him whispering to her, more and more urgently, but she never so much as turned her head in his direction.
    A good soldier
, I thought to myself.
Takes it in, acts it out
.
    A bailiff told everyone to quiet down and stand up, but he was more asking than telling. And nobody was willing to give up their seat, anyway.
    The judge came in. Sat down. Made an imperious little motion with his hand. The bailiff told everyone to be seated, as if they weren’t doing that already.
    I guess that second order didn’t apply to MaryLou, or the man next to her. Or the guy I guessed was the DA at the other table.He looked more nervous than anyone else. His fat face was already greasy with sweat.
    The judge started talking. I tuned him out so I could focus on faces. But I refocused on him when I heard his tone change.
    “Counsel,” he said to the man standing next to MaryLou, “are you telling this court that your client refuses to enter a plea?”
    “She refuses to speak at all, Your Honor.”
    “Is that correct, young lady?”
    MaryLou didn’t move.
    “Are you dissatisfied with your representation?”
    MaryLou stood like a statue.
    “Counsel?”
    “Your Honor, under the circumstances, I have no choice but to move for a—”
    “I don’t want to hear any motions until I hear a plea, counsel.”
    “Yes, Your Honor.”
    Silence took over. The judge broke it: “Very well, as defendant prefers to stand mute, the court will enter a not-guilty plea on her behalf. Additionally, in view of the gravity of the charges, the defendant will be remanded without bail.”
    A couple of female court officers bracketed MaryLou as they walked her out a side door.
Probably a tunnel straight into the jail
, I thought. I filed that away. I couldn’t expect any of the guards to give me a tour, but maybe there were architectural blueprints still around—the jail itself looked as if it had been built fairly recently.
    O utside, I watched from the parking lot. If there were any reporters around, I