Free Stay of Execution by K. L. Murphy

toward the pen in her hand, poised over the open notebook. “They know you’re a reporter.”
    She followed his gaze to the bar. “Is that a problem?”
    â€œDepends. Is that why you agreed to have a drink with me? To ask me questions?”
    â€œNo.” Her face reddened. “Well, yes and no. I did want a drink, and you seemed nice and  . . .”
    â€œAnd you thought it would be a good chance to get an interview with the mayor?”
    There was no anger in his tone, only curiosity, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes. I hope you don’t mind. We could start with some background, and then I’d like to ask you about the press conference yesterday. I won’t take up too much of your time. I promise.”
    â€œI’m not in any hurry, Julia, but I’d rather you put the notebook away.” He spoke quietly, his voice gentle. “This is a locals’ place, and it’s been here a long time, like the ­people in here. They like their privacy. It wouldn’t look good for me to give an interview in here to an outsider. Especially now.”
    Julia thought of the way the waitress paused when she caught sight of the notebook, how her manner seemed to cool. He was right. She was out of her element, a stranger here, and she didn’t need any enemies. Nodding, Julia returned the items to her bag.
    â€œIs that why you brought me here?” she asked, crossing her legs. “So I could see some of the locals?”
    â€œSort of,” he said. “I know you think you saw everything there is to know about this town yesterday, but that’s not the whole picture. ­People will be friendlier toward you if they think you’re going to listen, take the time to get know them.” He paused, puffing on his half-­smoked cigarette. “My advice to you is to keep your notebook and tape recorder inside that bag. The folks around here are going to be turned off if they think you’re hanging around so you can write about how Leo Spradlin got a raw deal.”
    Julia folded her arms across her chest. “What do you think, Ted? Do you think he got a raw deal?”
    The mayor shrugged, his bulk shifting with the movement. “Hard to say, but in my mind, he got a fair trial at the time. And from the moment he was arrested, the rapes and murders stopped. When you take that into account, this new DNA evidence is a bitter pill for ­people around here to swallow.” His eyes wandered around the bar. “I don’t know about raw deals, but I do know I’ve got a town full of ­people who believe a guilty man just got out of prison. The truth is, folks are scared.”
    Julia sipped the cold beer. She had figured most of this out at the press conference and in the diner. “You talked about justice at your press conference. What did you mean by that?”
    He shrugged again. “Only that Spradlin went to prison based on the justice system, and he was also freed based on that same system. We need to respect the law even if we don’t always agree with it. Spradlin has every right to live in this town, whether we like it or not.”
    â€œMakes sense.” She leaned forward, her hands on the table. “But I don’t think too many ­people around here feel the same way. I felt a lot of anger and hate out there yesterday.”
    He rubbed the back of his neck. “True, but you weren’t here then. You can’t understand what it was like. The ­people who were, they can’t accept his innocence. That’s why they’re scared.”
    â€œYou were here, Ted. Are you scared?”
    â€œNot the way you mean. Look, the law says he’s innocent, so I have to go with that. I may not practice law anymore, but I know DNA evidence doesn’t lie. That being said, I also know evidence that’s been sitting in a lab or warehouse for years can be tampered with or degraded.”
    Julia’s