The judge called a five-minute recess and ordered both attorneys to a meeting at her bench. “Mr. Baxter.” She looked at him with eyes that could pierce a piece of metal. “You will not make a mockery of this court. If you seek permission to show this video, you need a reason.”
“I have one.” Luke directed his next statement to the court stenographer. “If the court would please review Mr. Landsford’s comments from the first day of trial. The witness on the stand was policewoman Aspyn Jones.”
Landsford’s face was red. “This is ridiculous.”
“Proceed.” Judge Wells shot a look at Landsford. “If your comment opens the door for the video, we need to review it.” She motioned to the stenographer.
The stenographer found the spot in the record and read it out loud. “Mr. Landsford said, ‘The defendant in this case, Mr. Quinn, likes to say that his Bible study group has changed lives, that the students are better off because of it.’ ”
“That’s all.” Luke thanked the woman and turned to Judge Wells. “Since Mr. Landsford called into question whether students are better off because of the Raise the Bar program, the defense has the right to explore that issue. The condition of students prior to the club. The video will do just that.”
For a long time Judge Wells only stared at Luke. Then she breathed deep and nodded. “Permission granted.”
“Your Honor, I can’t believe this court is going to—” Landsford looked furious.
“Permission granted.” She rapped her gavel on the bench. “Court will resume. Everyone take their seats.”
Luke could finally breathe again. He could hardly believe how things had worked out, that Landsford had slipped up and allowed him a chance to have the video shown in court. He had the equipment in place and a remote at his table. A bailiff dimmed the lights and the video began to play.
Wendell’s work on the brief film was spectacular. It began with a burst of sad, dismal statistics. Then a slide that read: Those are the statistics. These are the stories.
The next part of the film was a more personal look at the losses from the previous year. Rasha Carter, a sophomore. Killed in an exchange of gunfire between two rival gangs. In the school’s own parking lot.
Rasha had been a journalism student, so Wendell’s friend Alicia had given the footage to Wendell for the film. With Lecrae’s “Don’t Waste Your Life” playing in the background, the video showed Rasha getting set up in front of the camera, giggling as her microphone struggled to stay in place, and then finally staring into the lens.
“My name is Rasha Carter. One day I’m going to be President of the United States. But first I’m going to finish school with straight As and go to Harvard University.” She grinned into the camera. “At least that’s my dream.”
The next clip contained the devastating imagery of Rasha’s family gathered around an open hole at the cemetery. Her mother breaking down, falling over the casket as they lowered it into the ground. “Not my baby . . . not my Rasha!”
A few sniffles came from the jury box.
The film ended with photos of other Hamilton students who had been killed and those were followed by a montage of news headlines featuring Hamilton High’s worst criminal element. The final image was the quote from Alexander Hamilton. Those who stand for nothing . . . will fall for anything.
When the lights came up, Luke looked at his notes. “The defense would like to call Rosie Carter.”
A sad, small woman—the one from the video—stood at the back of the courtroom and made her way toward the front. As she approached she stopped at Wendell’s chair and put her hand on his shoulder. “Thank you.” She wiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Thank you.”
Then she took the witness stand.
For the next ten minutes Luke gently asked Rosie one question after another. He established that Rosie was still grieving the loss of her precious Rasha and that life at Hamilton High had previously been dangerous and deeply discouraging.
Then came the surprise.
Rosie was one of the parent volunteers involved in bringing free food to the students in the Raise the Bar club. “Have you seen a change in the students at Hamilton High, Mrs. Carter?” Luke allowed more emotion in his tone. This woman deserved her say.
“Yes.” Rosie Carter looked at the jury. At every member on the panel. “Don’t you let that Mr. Landsford tell you there hasn’t been a difference. We lost Dwayne. But so many other kids have been saved. So many. And even Dwayne was saved, because today he’s in heaven. Safe for all eternity. All because Principal Quinn was brave enough to start an after-school Bible study.”
“Objection.” Landsford didn’t yell out the word this time. He smiled at Rosie and then at the judge. “Beyond the scope of the question.”
Judge Wells thought for a long moment. “Overruled.” She nodded to Rosie Carter. “The witness may continue.”
And Rosie did just that. Luke had to work to contain his smile as Rosie told about one student after another who had changed for the better because of the club. Then her eyes welled up. “Principal Quinn couldn’t stand by and let these kids kill themselves. So he started the club. Just for the kids who wanted it.” She paused, her tone feverish. “In that way . . . Rasha’s death wasn’t in vain.”
When it came time for her cross-examination, Landsford passed.
There was nothing he could ask her that would undo the impression she’d made on the jury. Luke could’ve danced on the ceiling he was so happy.
This was where he’d planned to rest his case. But the comment from Andy Nelson yesterday had changed his mind. What Luke was about to do was risky. Cami’s father could’ve been setting him up to fail here. But if so, Luke would know soon enough.
“The defense calls one final witness. Andy Nelson, please take the stand.”
A murmur rose from the spectators and even the jurors. Judge Wells rapped her gavel on the bench. “Order. Silence in the courtroom, please.”
The noise settled down and slowly, under the glare of his own attorney, Andy took the stand. He looked shaky, more nervous than the first time he’d been called.
“I’d like to make it clear to the jury”—Luke looked at each of them—“that Andy Nelson is testifying today on behalf of the defense.” He paused. “Although Mr. Nelson brought this case against Principal Quinn, today he will testify on the principal’s behalf.”
Landsford dropped his pen and leaned back in his seat. Clearly he had not expected this.
Luke formed his first question with great care. Help me here, God. He was glad his dad was still there, still praying from the back row. “Mr. Nelson, it’s come to my attention that you’ve gone through some personal changes since filing suit against Wendell Quinn. Is that right?”
“Yes, sir.” Andy wore a long-sleeve white cotton shirt and light blue jeans. He had cut his hair for the occasion, and though he still looked nervous, his eyes were brighter than they’d been all trial.
“Okay, and could you tell the jury about those changes? In your own words?”
Andy’s eyes filled with tears. He looked to the first row of spectators, where Cami and Jordy sat with a small group of Hamilton High students. The man wiped at his eyes and looked at the jury. “I made a mistake when I sued Principal Quinn. There were . . . personal reasons why I didn’t want my daughter reading the Bible.” He looked at her and his tears came harder. He shook his head and whispered, “I’m sorry, baby. I never meant for this to . . . I’m sorry.”
Landsford looked like he might object, but instead he only crossed his arms and stared at the table in front of him.
“Mr. Nelson, if you could please stick to the question.” Luke used his most gentle tone. He loved the exchange between Andy and his daughter. But this wasn’t the place for it, and he wanted the jurors to hear the reason Andy had changed his mind.
“Yes. Sorry.” Andy blinked a few times, like he was trying to see through his tears. He turned to the jury once more. “I seen the difference this
club has made in my daughter. God is . . . He’s her best friend now. She used to be angry and now . . . she has peace. The only problem in her life today is . . . well, it’s me.”
“And have you changed your mind about the importance of a club like Raise the Bar, Mr. Nelson?” Luke took a step forward, his voice quiet.
“I’ve changed my mind about a lot of things regarding God. When I filed the lawsuit . . . I was so angry at God and Cami and Principal Quinn, I went and got a tattoo on my arm. It said ‘NO GOD.’ Because that’s how I felt . . . like there was no God. Like He wasn’t real.”
Luke walked back to his table, giving the jurors plenty of time to let Andy’s testimony hit them. On his way he noticed that Cami was crying. Jordy put his arm around her as they listened. Luke faced Andy once more. “And now, Mr. Nelson? How do you feel now?”
“I tried to kill myself before the trial started. But God . . . He wouldn’t let me die. So I went back to the tattoo parlor.” Andy sniffed, fresh tears filling his eyes. He struggled to pull up the sleeve of his shirt. And there on his bicep was the tattoo he’d mentioned a minute ago. But something was different. He’d had a few letters added.
“See?” Andy held up his arm. “Now it says ‘KNOW GOD.’ Because He alone can help us. Me and Cami. The students at Hamilton High.” He looked at Wendell. “And you, Principal Quinn. We all need God. I believe that now.”
Judge Wells sat back in her chair and grabbed on to the arms. Like she’d never seen anything so unexpected in all her days on the bench. Landsford, too. If he could’ve tunneled his way out of the courtroom with his pen, he would’ve.
At least by the expression on his face.
Luke nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Nelson. No further questions. The defense rests, Your Honor.”
“No further questions.” Landsford didn’t bother to look up from his notes.
“Very well. The jury will now hear closing arguments.”
Landsford went first. He was hardly compelling. His client had turned against him. Of all the cases the man would win against Christians, this no longer appeared to be one of them.
He was going into a halfhearted spiel about precedent cases and the prior determination that a school official absolutely could not lead a Bible study on campus—voluntary or not—when Andy Nelson walked across the courtroom to his daughter.
Cami stayed on her side of the railing, but the two hugged like their lives depended on it. Luke couldn’t have written a better script for how these final moments might play out. Most of the jurors were crying, dabbing at their eyes.
“Order.” Judge Wells stood, beyond frustrated. “Mr. Nelson, your attorney is making his closing arguments. The least you could do is sit and listen.”
Only then did Andy seem to realize how rude he’d been. Luke covered his smile with his hand as Andy apologized and returned to his seat.
“The jury will not allow that scene between Mr. Nelson and his daughter to influence its decision.” The judge looked at the jury. “Is that understood?”
Each of them nodded. As if anything could erase the touching moment they’d just witnessed. Landsford finished his closing statement and sat down.
It was Luke’s turn. Anything he could say at this point would be superfluous. Rosie Carter, Andy Nelson, the hug the man had shared with his daughter. All of that had said more than Luke could ever say.
But still he had to drive home one final point. The reason the jury could feel good about the legalities of deciding in favor of Wendell Quinn. The point Tommy had first brought up after the musical that night. Luke wasn’t sure if it would help, but it couldn’t hurt. Not at this point. And both Wendell and Tommy were right—whether it was a proven defense in a case like this or not.
Wendell really was just doing his job.
Luke stepped in front of the jury and looked at them. Each one of them. “First, thank you again for your time. I told you it would take a while, and it has. But freedom is always worth the time. Always.”
Luke came closer to the jury box. These were no longer Landsford’s friends. They were Luke’s. “I want you to take two truths with you into that deliberation room. Two truths that will make your decision that much easier.” Luke paused. “First, there was nothing in the school district handbook prohibiting Principal Quinn from leading a voluntary after-school Bible study. You heard James Black testify to that on the first day of trial.”
Luke smiled at the jurors and then he turned and looked at Wendell. Looked at him long enough that every one of the jurors could do nothing but follow his lead. After several seconds, Luke turned his attention back to the jury. “Second, Wendell Quinn started the Raise the Bar club for one reason.” Luke nodded. “Yes, because it was his job.”
One more trip back to his table and Luke picked up a piece of paper. “When Wendell Quinn signed his contract as principal of Hamilton High he promised this: To establish a schoolwide vision of commitment to high standards . . . and ensure the success of all students.”
Luke set the piece of paper down and smiled at the jury. “Friends, when a man like Wendell Quinn does whatever it takes . . . when he risks his reputation and his job to carry out the duties of his position on behalf of his students, we don’t find him guilty. We drop the charges and we give him a standing ovation.”
The sentiment hung in the air for a long moment, and then Luke thanked the jury one more time and returned to his seat.
He’d done all he could. He had prayed and so had his family. Now the decision was in the hands of the jury. And of God Almighty, who had brought them this far.
An hour later it was no surprise to anyone in the room when the jury returned with a verdict of not guilty. After the foreman read their decision he did something Luke had never seen, not in all his years of practicing law.
The man began to clap.
His fellow jurors joined in and all of them rose to their feet. So that Wendell Quinn finally had what he deserved.
A standing ovation.
23
The jury’s verdict, their applause, was still fresh in Wendell’s heart when Judge Wells lit into him.
“Mr. Quinn, you need to know that the verdict today does not mean your troubles are over.”
Next to him, Luke whispered. “Just hear her out. You’re fine, Wendell.”
He kept his eyes on the judge, respectful. Listening. “Yes, Your Honor.”
“What I’m saying is anyone, anytime could bring a lawsuit much like the one Mr. Nelson brought. As long as you run your Bible study club, you’re placing yourself and your school in jeopardy.”
Wendell nodded.
“Ultimately, the landscape of religious freedom is changing in this nation.” Judge Wells raised her brow. “A person has to be either very brave or very foolish to continue such a club.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Wendell smiled. “I’m probably a little of both.”
Wendell heard Luke chuckle quietly. “Thank you, Judge Wells. If Your Honor is finished, my client has places to be.”
She gave Luke a wary look. “Very well.” She waved her hand like she’d done before. “I expect I’ll see you again. But for now, you may go. Both of you.”
Wendell and Luke stood at the same time and as Luke moved to shake his hand, Wendell went straight for the hug. “I had the best lawyer in the business.”
“I couldn’t have planned half of what happened here.” Luke patted Wendell on the back. “God alone gave us this victory. Never should’ve happened.”
Alicia walked up to them. She hugged Wendell and then shook Luke’s hand. “Thank you. Wendell was right about you.”
“He tell you I cry easy at sad videos?” Luke grinned at Wendell and shook his head. “Twice, in this case.”
“No.” Alicia’s eyes were soft. Full of gratitude. “He told me there was no lawyer better. That jury loved you.”
Wendell watched as Luke looked across the room to the place where his father was still waiting for him. A kind expression filled Luk
e’s face. “My dad told me a long time ago that the best way to win an argument was with gentle words and honesty. Worked as a kid. Still works now.”
Luke patted Wendell on the back once more. “I’ll be in touch. I want our families to get together soon. After Christmas, maybe.”
“Definitely.” Wendell would remember Luke Baxter’s kindness all his life. He watched as the young attorney headed toward his dad. And maybe today God had given his old coach Les Green a window. Wendell lifted his face. Lord, tell Les it worked. Good was done here today. In this moment. With a full heart, Wendell turned to Alicia. “You ready to go?”
“Dinner at your house?”
“Absolutely. I texted Jordy after the verdict.” He chuckled. “Seems I got a houseful of kids ready to celebrate.”
It was only three in the afternoon, so the courthouse was still busy, action and drama filling just about every room. But for Wendell, the excitement was over. For now, anyway. Like Judge Wells had said.
He put his arm around Alicia’s shoulders and walked with her to the front of the building. They were barely out the doors when Wendell saw the commotion twenty yards away.
Suddenly there was a series of popping sounds. People all around them screamed and dropped to the ground, covering their heads and hiding behind walls and cars. Wendell did the only thing that mattered.
He grabbed Alicia and shielded her with his body. If it was the last thing he did on earth, he was going to protect her. And if God gave him the chance, he would keep her safe the rest of her life.
The shooting was over as quickly as it began.
Alicia moved closer to him. “What is it, Wendell? Was someone . . . did someone . . . ?”
“I don’t know.” Whatever had happened it looked serious. But it also looked like the incident was over.
Wendell and Alicia stayed in their spot for what felt like an hour. They didn’t move or talk again until an officer approached them. He had a photograph in his hand and seemed to be comparing it to the people leaving the courthouse. Only then did Wendell make out what the man was saying.