Out Of Time by Katy Munger

through my mind at that offer. But I thought ten minutes was probably eight more than he typically needed, so I held my tongue.
    “You prosecuted that case,” I reminded him. “I’m looking into it on behalf of her family. She’s only got a month left before her execution. They want to be sure they’ve done everything they can do for her, so I’ve been asked to verify the evidence against her one more time. I was wondering if you could give me your impressions about the strength of her case, if you thought her defense had any merit? If there was anything I should look into? I am sure you would want to be positive before you sent a woman to her death.”
    “It’s a shame when anyone has to die,” he said sadly. “But we must maintain the boundaries of civilization, young lady. An eye for an eye.” He oozed so much sincerity, I felt like wiping my shoes on the carpet.
    I didn’t get into it with him. This state is full of sincere church-going people. Letting a bible-spouting hypocrite like Ham Mitchell get under your skin makes them defensive, and I admire them too much for that. So I let it pass. “It doesn’t make sense,” I said instead. “Gail and her husband always got along well until that night. Why would she suddenly kill him?”
    “Got along?” he countered. “The man slapped her around, beat her, kicked her when she was down. You call that getting along? She just snapped is all. Picked up a gun and evened the score.”
    “You believed her defense?” I asked, as close to speechless as I ever get. “Yet you went for the death penalty? If you believed her, wouldn’t that constitute mitigating circumstances? Wouldn’t life with a chance for parole have been a more appropriate punishment?”
    He rolled his huge shoulders. “If every woman who was slapped around took justice into her own hands, there’d only be a handful of men left in this state.”
    “What century are you from?” I asked incredulously. I just couldn’t help it.
    “Pardon?” he asked, blinking his tiny eyes.
    “You seriously believe that?” I said. “That must go over big at Junior League rallies.”
    “See here, young lady,” he said. “Abuse is a serious matter and I don’t take it lightly. But it’s no excuse for taking another person’s life. Why even Gail’s own sister felt she deserved the death penalty.”
    “I would doubt that,” I said emphatically.
    “Then you would be wrong.” He rose, irritated, and his bulk seemed to fill the room. He was also starting to sweat. Was it my imagination or did he smell like barbecued pork? At any rate, I’d had enough. I’d get nothing out of him, that was for sure. My skeptical look said it all.
    “Why don’t you go ask her for yourself?” he suggested. “She’s right down the hall. I have work to do. Donna!” he hollered again. This time, a well-dressed brunette in her late forties scurried into the room, notebook in hand.
    “Sir?” she chirped, a professional smile curling her lips.
    “Take this young lady down the hall to see Brenda Polk, would you? I have to attend to more pressing matters. I am sure Brenda would be happy to help her. I can’t understand whose idea it was to let her in to see me in the first place.”
    “Why, it was your idea, sir,” she lied politely. “You thought it would be good for your standing with female voters if you appeared fair. Remember?”
    “Oh.” He paused, momentarily confused, then picked up enough steam to sputter a dismissal. “I’ve changed my mind. Get her out of here.”
    We filed out dutifully, with me feeling like the poodle who’s just peed on the new white rug. Well, I thought with determination, we’d just have to wait and see whose nose was rubbed in what.
    “God,” I said when we were safely down the hall. “Is he always like that? I wanted to pop him with a pin to see if he’d deflate.”
    “When he’s unrehearsed he is,” his secretary admitted. “Usually he has the office press