Her conclusions should have made her feel more confident, more calm and certain. Instead, they left her unhappy and unsettled.
18
The morning business went pretty much the way Brooks had figured, with a few extra points for the good guys.
He’d expected Justin and his idiot pals to make bail, and had calculated the judge would set it high enough to sting a little. He set it high enough to sting a lot.
Harry objected, of course—he had to do his job—but the judge held firm. The Conroys might not have been as deep in the pockets as the Blakes, but they were as well respected, and a hell of a lot more well liked.
Justin had kicked the wrong cat this time, in Brooks’s opinion.
From his position in the courtroom, he watched Blake seethe, Justin sneer, and the two others being arraigned keep their heads and eyes down while their parents sat stone-faced.
He had to fight back a mile-wide grin when the judge agreed to the prosecutor’s demand that all three under charges turn in their passports.
“This is insulting!” Blake surged to his feet at the judge’s ruling, and this time Brooks did a happy dance in his head. “I won’t tolerate the insinuation my son would run away from these absurd charges. We want our day in court!”
“You’re going to get that.” Judge Reingold, who played golf with Blake every Sunday, slapped his gavel down. “And you’re going to show respect in this courtroom, Lincoln. You sit down and keep your peace in here or I’ll have you removed.”
“Don’t think you can sit up there and threaten me. I helped put you in those robes.”
Behind his wire-framed glasses, Reingold’s eyes glittered. “And as long as I’m wearing them, you’ll show them respect. Sit down, be quiet, or sure as God made little green apples, I’ll hold you in contempt of court.”
Blake shoved Harry aside when the lawyer tried to intervene. “I’ll show you contempt.”
“You just did.” Reingold banged his gavel again. “That’s five hundred dollars. Bailiff, remove Mr. Blake from the courtroom before he makes it a thousand.”
Red-faced, teeth set, Blake turned on his heel and stalked out under his own power. He took a moment to pause, scald Brooks with a blistering stare.
Brooks sat through the rest of the legal wrangling, the instructions, the warnings, the scheduling. He waited until Justin and his friends were led back to their holding cells until their bail could be posted.
More than satisfied, Brooks had to control a little bounce in his step when he walked over to speak with Russ and his family. There was no doubt in his mind that having the entire Conroy family present—Russ’s split lip, Mrs. Conroy fighting tears—had influenced Reingold’s ruling.
“That pompous bully Blake made it worse for himself and those vicious boys.” Seline, dark eyes sparking in contrast to her usual easy-as-Sunday-morning temperament, kept her arm protectively around her mother-in-law’s shoulders. “I loved it. I only wished he’d opened his mouth again, so it cost him more.”
“I wasn’t sure Stan would stand up against Lincoln.” Mick Conroy nodded toward the bench. “I feel some better about it. I’m going to take your mom home,” he said to Russ.
“You want me to come?”
Hilly, her eyes still shadowed, the bright hair she’d passed to her son pulled back in a haphazard ponytail, shook her head. She kissed Russ’s cheek. “We’ll be all right. Brooks.” She kissed Brooks’s cheek in turn. “We’re grateful.”
“There’s no need for that.”
“She’s still sad,” Seline murmured, when her in-laws walked out. “She can’t find her mad through it. I want her to find that mad. She’ll feel better when she does.”
“You’re mad enough for all of us.”
Seline smiled a little. “God knows. I’ve got to get to school. The kids’ve probably traumatized the morning substitute by now.”
She gave Brooks a hard hug, turned to Russ, held on to him for a long minute. “Don’t fret too much, cutie,” she told him.
“Let me buy you a cup of coffee,” Brooks said to Russ when they were alone.
“I should get to the hotel.”
“Take a few minutes, decompress.”
“I could use it. Okay. I’ll meet you there.”
The minute Brooks walked into the diner, Kim grabbed a coffeepot and beelined toward him. She pointed at a booth, turned the mug on the tabletop over, poured.
“Well,” she said.
“Just coffee, thanks.”
She poked him on the shoulder. “How’m I supposed to maintain my status as News Queen if you don’t give me the dish? Do you want me to get demoted?”
“No, indeed. We can’t have that. They made bail.”
Her mouth turned down, ferociously. “I should’ve known Stan Reingold would play weasel for Lincoln Blake.”
“Now, I wouldn’t say that, Kim. I expected them to make bail. I didn’t expect the judge to set it as high as he did, and I can guarantee you Blake didn’t, either.”
“That’s something, then.”
“And he’s confiscating their passports until after the trial.”
“Well, now.” Lips pursed, she gave a satisfied nod. “I take it all back. That had to burn Blake’s fat ass.”
“Oh, I’d say he felt the heat. He mouthed off, and the judge fined him five hundred for contempt.”
This time she slapped Brooks’s shoulder. “You’re shitting me.”
“Swear to God.”
“I take it all back double. Next time Stan Reingold comes in, I’m giving him pie on the house. You hear that, Lindy?” she called to the man at the grill. “Stan Reingold fined Lincoln Blake five hundred for contempt.”
Spatula fisted at his hip, Lindy turned. “About time contempt cost him, ’cause the sumbitch has plenty of it. That coffee’s on me, Brooks.” Lindy lifted his chin toward the door. “And his, too.”
Kim spotted Russ when he came in, turned the second mug over. “You sit right on down here, sweetie.” She rose to her toes to kiss his cheek. “And no charge for the coffee or anything else you want. You be sure to tell your folks that anybody worth spit in this town is sorry as hell about what happened, and behind them a hundred percent.”
“I will. Thanks, Kim. It means a lot.”
“You look tired out. How about a big wedge of that French apple pie you like to perk you up?”
“Couldn’t right now. Maybe next time.”
“I’ll leave you to talk, then, but you need anything, you just holler.”
Brooks pretended to sulk. “She didn’t offer me any damn pie.”
Russ managed a wan smile. “She’s got to feel sorry for you first. Did you know about the passports?”
“I knew we were going to request it, but I didn’t figure Reingold would rule on our side. He surprised me, and maybe that’s on me.”
“He’s let the Blake kid slide on plenty before today.”
“Yeah, he has, and I think he’s feeling the weight of that. He may be Blake’s golf buddy, but he can’t—and I think won’t—brush off this kind of thing. I believe His Honor was well and truly pissed this morning. And I believe Blake isn’t going to let Harry talk his boy into a plea on this. He wants the trial because he absolutely believes he and his are too fucking important to bend to the law. That boy’s going down, Russ, and he may go down harder than I expected. I’m not sorry about it.”
“Can’t say as I am, either.”
Brooks shifted forward. “I wanted to talk to you for a few minutes because I’m dead sure Blake’s going to do whatever he can to buy you off or pressure you into dropping the assault charges. He gets that gone, he’s going to figure it’s mostly about money. Pay the two dollars, so to speak, try to manipulate community service and some rehab, a suspended sentence for the boy.”
Russ’s bruised mouth set like stone. “It’s not going to happen, Brooks. Did you see my daddy this morning? He looks ten years older. I don’t give a damn about taking the punch, and if it wasn’t for the rest, I’d let it go. But I’m not going to shrug this off so that little bastard slides through this.”