Going back to the Appalachians for the trial, was an exercise in self-control against the overwhelming worry about a mistrial and a sense of agonizing helpless futility because she wasn't the one prosecuting it. Joan advised Judge Kilman and D.A. Nolia Charta on ways to make certain Mr. Langston got the highest sentence possible for transporting food improperly and recooking spoiled food to serve it. If the involuntary manslaughter or negligent homicide charges were dismissed, the only remaining charges were misdemeanors. The suspicion that a shrimper with a vendetta against the Influencer purposely supplied discounted fresh shrimp from a red tide-effected area would affect the jury's consideration of the fourty-0ne manslaughter charges. In the end, Joan could only hope for the best.

"All rise, for the Honorable Judge Kilman... You may be seated."

Taking his seat, Judge Kilman glanced at her and the rest of the families of the victims as the jury entered. The jury deliberated for two days, and the families of the victims were restless. The court was called to order and Joan fought the urge to hold her breath. The Jury foreman handed a sheet of paper to the bailiff who handed it to the Judge.

"Madam Forman, what has the jury found on the felony negligent homicide charges?"

"We found the defendant not guilty."

The Gallery murmured nervously and shushed a woman who started crying loudly.

"On the felony involuntary manslaughter charges?"

"Not guilty, Your Honor."

"On the felony involuntary assault charges."

"Not guilty."

A man over Joan's shoulder snarled loudly, "Are you kidding?! He killed my sister. My brother-in-law is still in the hospital on a respirator!"

Others started to join him in harassing the jury, but Joan turned around and gave them all a cold, withering glare as she hissed at them, "Be silent or the judge can remove us all!"

Judge Kilman gave them a moment to settle before looking back at the jury forewoman. "On the misdemeanor counts of criminal negligence resulting in injury or death."

"Guilty on all counts, your honor."

"Thank you, Madam Foreman and members of the Jury for your diligence in this difficult case, you are dismissed with a reminder to not speak to the media on your deliberation until the convicted is released." Nodding, Judge Kilman thanked the jury and dismissed them before he turned to Mr. Langston who was smiling in relief as his lawyers happily patted his back.

"Mr. Langston, please stand for your sentencing. You have been found guilty of criminal negligence only for bringing food into our state that was transported and stored improperly which resulted in great harm. You personally ordered the tainted food recooked and seasoned to hide the fact it spoiled. While it is true that in the investigation of this case it was determined another intended to harm your reputation by providing you with shrimp contaminated with Red Tide, the Botulism contamination is completely your responsibility. Forty-one lives were lost and one-hundred seventy-two were sickened."

When he paused, one of the defense lawyers started, "Your Honor, our client..."

"I wasn't finished, counsel," growled Judge Kilman. "Your client's questionable ethics and choices caused this situation and as these are misdemeanor charges, I must follow the law in sentencing."

Joan knew he would make certain the negligence charges were enforced, she held her breath.

"This was not a small crime, Mr. Langston purposefully sought to deceive thereby caused great harm. He is not a person without means who could not afford to replace the contaminated food, he simply did it to save money. Because it was a willful act, regardless of malicious intent, I am ordering that he will serve three months for every person who was sickened and one year for every person who died consecutively."

Exhaling the breath she was holding, Joan sagged in relief as the confused family members of the victims around her murmured indignantly at what seemed a light sentence.

"If my math serves, you will serve forty-two years for those sickened, plus forty-one years for those your negligence killed. Mr. Langston, you will be eligible for parole for a minimum of twenty-seven years."

The defense lawyers immediately objected and announced they were appealing, but the families of the victims cheered and cried. Several reached out and patted Joan or shook her hand, all knew how hard she worked with the local district attorney to prosecute the case.

"Silence in the court." Judge Kilman gave the gallery a stern look before glaring at Mr. Langston, who sagged into his chair. "Stand up, sir." He waited while one of the defense lawyers hauled him back up to his feet. "Do you have anything to say to your victims' families and friends?"

Langston swayed slightly; a sheen of sweat glistened on his skin as he licked his lips. "Yes, Your Honor, I do." One of the lawyers pressed several pieces of paper into his hand. He looked at it, then straightened and began reading a prepared statement. Halfway through, the scoffing and derisive mutterings from the gallery angered him to the point his face was red, and he was visibly livid. No one was believing his carefully crafted spiel about how none of it was his fault and he was just as much of a victim as those who died.

The third time he repeated himself, Judge Kilman cut him off. "Mr. Langston, is there any part of your statement where you express true remorse? Because your used car salesmanship has no place in my court. You have been found guilty by a jury of your peers of causing the deaths of forty-one people through willful negligence. Do you have anything to say to their families?"

When Mr. Langston glanced at the papers like he was going to start reading again, Judge Kilman cut him off. "Enough. You cannot talk your way out of the civil suits that are coming. Bailiff, take him into custody. Mr. Langston, you are hereby remanded to the Southern State Penitentiary Facility. Enjoy your stay, I will inform the warden to not include Kitchen Duties as one of your new pastimes. Court adjourned."

A few laughed at the judge's final statements, but many still wept or shouted insults at Langston who was handcuffed and forced to leave the courtroom.

Nolia turned to Joan, who returned her tight smile as she said, "That went better than I hoped."

Nolia nodded. "I was so worried he would get acquitted."

"Me too."

"But what about the appeals?" A worried man asked. His son and wife were both home from the hospital, but still suffering from the after-effects.

"He will not get out on appeals, the number of victims and that Judge Kilman gave him lower sentences than he could have will mean the appellate court judge will look at the sentence per offense and see him was lenient," Nolia assured him.

Many families left satisfied. The meeting about the civil suit went well and the criminal conviction bolstered their cases for wrongful injuries and deaths. Not to mention the resort was suing for the cost of being closed for a week and having to hire crime scene clean crew to clean all the rooms used by the conference.

As the families left, Judge Kilman sent a message for Nolia and Joan to come to his office. When they came in, he smiled at them. "You ladies did an excellent job of seeing this through. I am very confident it will not be overturned on appeals." He offered them both a drink, but they refused by gesturing politely so he tipped his glass to her. "Joan, thank you for the advice on the sentencing. If you need a reference or would like to move to our lovely state, I can get you in to take the state bar. We would be lucky to have someone with your keen mind and skills."

Nolia took her to lunch before Joan began her drive back to the city. They laugh and spend the time talking about anything but the case, the pending civil suit, and Paul's death. It was fun to spend time with her new friend, something she hadn't enjoyed finding in years. Joan felt sad as she realized how compartmentalized and rote her life had become. Louis Dupont came in and waved at them. The security guard was an excellent witness. He was also invaluable to turning the tide in their favor just by walking into a hospital room and pointing at a person in the ward and identifying them. It was like a scene from a television show. When the interns he identified, as the ones who brought in the coolers found in the kitchen or took back out the filthy ones to the panel truck, realized Mr. Langston would let them take all the blame for the disaster, many agreed to testify to save themselves from conspiracy to commit mass murder charges. Joan was certain the witness testimony saved the conviction.

"Are you certain you don't want to stay the night?" Nolia offered as she walked out into the warm air. Summer had embraced the mountains. "We can hit a different set of trails."

Joan shook her head. "As much as I'd love to stay and go mountain biking again, I have to get back. I have a lot to do starting Monday and if I can get back into the office tomorrow."

"I understand... Stay in touch," Nolia insisted, "I don't have any other female district attorney friends."

Grinning, Joan promised, "I will. Take care of yourself and thank you so much for everything."

"Anytime. Drive safe."

Joan glanced back once at Nolia as she waited at a stoplight, wishing she could afford to move to the mountain community, but she wasn't the only one from the big city who had that dream and housing prices were skyrocketing. Joan knew she was lucky to still have a place to live in the city after the way Paul squandered his share of their "balenced" financial burdens. 

"I hate you, Paul," she hissed through gritted teeth as she drove through the mountains.