“I do.”
“And you can say confidently that you’re familiar with the case?”
“I can.”
Fletcher returns to his table and picks up a piece of paper. “Jamie, on the night in question, can you tell us who was responsible for the vandalism?”
Something compels me to look at Ajay, and I wish I hadn’t. He looks sad, defeated, like the world is against him and the last time I saw him like this was when his grandma died, leaving him with no one. I remember when he cried on my shoulder and I begged my father not to call child services because they would take him away from me. I was the only family he had, and I had to protect him. However, telling the truth now will put me in the same situation he’s in.
“Ms. Foster?” Fletcher calls my name to get my attention. I smile softly at my friend.
“Spouses can’t testify against each other, right?”
Fletcher looks at the sheet of paper again. “At the time of the incident, you were not married to Mr. Ballard,” he points out.
I glance at Ajay, who is focused intently on me. “This is true, but we did marry.”
“And subsequently divorced, therefore your testimony is admissible.”
I drop my head and look at my hands. The dollar store ring Ajay had bought me is resting somewhere at the bottom of some river I drove past on my way home from Nashville. The green iron stain that it left behind on my finger disappeared slowly, day after day, until one day I noticed it was gone. That was the day when everything became a reality for me. The love of my life was no more. The cheap ring that signified our life was gone and I had nothing to hold onto.
Looking back at Fletcher, I try to grin, but my cheeks barely move. “Ms. Foster?”
“I invoke my spousal privilege or whatever it’s called.”
Fletcher steps toward me just as Ajay leans forward. “There isn’t anything to invoke,” Fletcher says. “You and Mr. Ballard have been divorced for seven years.”
I sit up straighter in my chair and close my eyes. I have no choice but to come clean. Even if I were to file the papers today or tomorrow, he’d get a copy and know that I never followed through with the divorce in the first place. I chance a look at his girlfriend who is watching me intently, probably wondering what the hell’s going on. I spotted her ring earlier and could feel a small bit of jealousy course through me. The rock could cut a piece of glass and it could’ve been mine. I stop myself from thinking what should’ve been because who knows if Ajay and I would’ve made it? I used to dream that we would have.
“Your Honor, if you would please instruct the witness to answer the State’s question,” Ajay’s lawyer stands and says.
“Ms. Foster, please answer the question.”
I mentally flip Harvey off.
“Like I said, I invoke spousal privilege because Ajay Ballard and I are still married.”
The small group in the courtroom erupts. Immediately, my eyes are back on Ajay. He stares at me, stunned. The lady he came with has her hand over her mouth as she looks on. The man is saying something to the lawyer, and Ajay’s girlfriend looks pissed. I have no doubt that once we leave here, she’s going to demand the papers be filed so they can get on with their lives.
Harvey, on the other hand is having a field day with his gavel. He keeps slamming it down and yelling “order” even though it’s fairly quiet in the courtroom. I’m not sure what the big deal is, other than the obvious, but it’s not like I confessed to murder or something equally egregious. Ajay and I are still married when we thought we were divorced. Seems like a simple fix.
“Your Honor, in light of the newly revealed information, I move for an immediate dismissal against my client.”
“Not so fast, city boy,” Harvey says. He turns and points his gavel at me. “Listen young lady, I will not tolerate these lies from you.”
“As if I care.”
His lips go into a fine line and I can see that he’s grinding his teeth. “Very well, then. Jameson Foster and Ajay Ballard are hereby remanded to the Prineville County jail until the facts of the matter can be verified by the county clerk.”
My mouth drops open and before I can say anything, he slams down his gavel and walks off toward his chambers.
“What just happened, Fletcher?” I ask, standing up.
“He just put you in jail for mouthing off to him.”
The bailiff walks behind me and pulls my arms together. “Can he do that?” I screech as the cuffs go around my wrists.
“He just did.”