The judge raised one hand. “Mrs. Brooks senior, sit down.” “She’s accusing a complete stranger!” “I said sit down.” Patricia lowered herself into her seat, but not before shooting the blonde woman a look I couldn’t understand. It wasn’t surprise. It was warning. My lawyer, Daniel Mercer, walked slowly toward Mrs. Wilkes. “Mrs. Wilkes,” he asked gently, “are you certain?” She nodded without hesitation. “I’m old,” she said. “Not blind.” The courtroom recorder clicked steadily as every word was preserved forever. “She came to my window four different Fridays. Same perfume. Same emerald ring. Same driver’s license. Same smile.”…..CONTINUES IN BELOW...
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