I Opened My Feeding Book While Russell Sat Beside His Lawyer

The criminal trial began eleven months after the fire.

By then, I had learned how many kinds of waiting could fit into a year. Waiting for records. Waiting for a hearing. Waiting while lawyers settled which parts of my recording the jury could hear.

Russell had surrendered and posted bond. The court barred him from contacting us. His voice finally stayed out of my phone.

Deke had pleaded guilty to his part in setting the fire and agreed to testify. His deal was read aloud. The jury heard what he hoped to gain before it heard what he said Russell had ordered.

He described being paid through a false repair invoice. The state showed the invoice and the matching bank transfer.

Nora testified before I did.

She wore the green coat. The cuff had been mended with small, neat stitches.

"Why did you go back to the warehouse?" the prosecutor asked.

"To make him stop."

"Did you owe rent?"

"Yes. That didn't mean I agreed to a fire."

Her voice shook. She answered anyway.

When my name was called, I carried nothing to the stand. My feeding book was already marked as an exhibit. The court officer put it in front of me.

Russell watched me as if I had brought a mop into church.

I stated my name, age, and work. The prosecutor asked how I kept track of feeding.

"Date, tank number, food amount, water tests, anything unusual. A red square meant no food that visit."

"Why write it by hand?"

"A clipboard works with wet fingers. And the next person can read it without a password."

A few jurors looked down at the copied pages.

The prosecutor showed them the camera notice and service rider. The evidence examiner had already explained the collection, the stored original, and the checks that matched it to the courtroom copy.

Then the screen lit up.

An angelfish moved across the glass. Behind it, the office reflection showed Nora's sleeve, Russell's face, and me beside my bucket.

The prosecutor paused the image.

"Did you move the camera toward that office?"

"No. It stayed on its bracket."

"Had you planned to record a meeting?"

"I had planned to change twenty gallons of water."

She let the file run again. The reflection moved when we moved. I saw my own wet hand holding the siphon tube, too scared to let go and flood the floor.

"Tell him he can't burn it while she's there," Nora said from the speakers.

Then Russell's voice filled the room, soft and close.

"People make them. Even people with little routes and old vans."

Nobody laughed at the bucket.

The prosecutor asked what Russell had said about my customers. I repeated it without adding the words I wished I had said back.

On cross-examination, his lawyer opened a thick folder.

"You were angry when Mr. Greer ended your service, correct?"

"Yes."

"You sued his company."

"For an unpaid contract balance."

"And you had access to these files before the police did."

"Yes."

"You controlled the account."

"I did."

He let that answer hang, hoping it would grow into something else.

"You could choose what to provide."

"The examiner collected the full original file with me present."

He asked about the tank sale photographs.

"Mr. Greer bought the aquariums your cameras were aimed at."

"He bought the aquariums. I owned the cameras and controlled the backup account under the signed rider."

For the first time that morning, Russell looked away.

His lawyer turned to my book.

"A red square doesn't prove fish were shipped anywhere, does it?"

"By itself, no."

"So your notes could not establish insurance fraud."

"They showed what I observed. The shipping company had the delivery record."

I stopped there. Celia had told me that a short true answer did not need a fence built around it.

Gideon testified about the scene and his findings. Other witnesses covered the lab work, the records, and the claimed losses. He did not look toward me for approval.

During the lunch break, we passed near a water fountain.

"Did you eat?" he asked.

"Half a sandwich."

"Other half's waiting?"

"In my bag."

"Good."

That was all. It steadied me more than a hand on my back would have.

The defense argued that Deke had acted alone, that Nora had misunderstood, and that business purchases were lawful. The prosecutor agreed the tank sales themselves were lawful. Then she laid out what the other records showed.

She did not call me fearless. She called me a witness who had kept ordinary records.

The jury went out after lunch the next day.

I sat beside Nora in the hallway. We divided a packet of crackers and watched rain gather on the window ledge.

At four seventeen, the courtroom door opened.

The bailiff said, "They have a verdict."