“Time to ride into battle,” Mike said, looking at the clock on the wall.
“I’ll be in the castle with your noble beast when you return.”
Mike patted Judge on the head and gave him a sliver of crust. “I wish a human judge would do what I ask in return for a piece of bread.”
IT WASN’T A BUSY CRIMINAL ARRAIGNMENT DAY. WHEN THAT happened, the influx of family and friends anxious about the fate of loved ones made it hard to find a parking place near the courthouse. Only a few people were on the sidewalk.
Butterflies fluttered in Mike’s stomach. A bond hearing was a perfunctory affair that wouldn’t create much tension, but Mike’s long absence from the legal arena made him nervous. Sitting in the car, he phoned the jail to confirm that Sam would be present. As he walked up the courthouse steps with a thin folder in his hand, Mike replayed in his mind the legal standard for reducing a bond.
The main courtroom in the Barlow County Courthouse was painted a light cream color. The dark wooden benches had been recently restained, and the faint odor of finishing compound lingered in the air. Half a dozen lawyers were milling around the front of the courtroom. When Mike approached, conversation stopped. Earl Coulter, a veteran criminal defense lawyer, came over and shook his hand.
“Welcome, Preacher. Glad you’re here. I could use a character witness in a sentencing hearing for one of the Vinson boys. How much would it cost to get you to vouch for him?”
“It says Not for hire on the back of my new business card,” Mike replied. “And I don’t think you want me giving my opinion of whether your client is a threat to society.”
“You know Zane, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I got him a deal for two years in and two years on probation when he was about twenty.”
“He ran through that and has built more time in prison since. Two years at a work camp would be a blessing from heaven if I could get it today.”
Mike pointed up. “You and Zane had better talk to my new boss if you want that kind of help.”
Mike stepped through the opening in the wooden railing that ran across the courtroom. Passing into familiar territory, the butterflies in his stomach left. A short young lawyer with dark hair and angular features came over to him.
“I’m Greg Freeman. How is Mr. Miller doing?”
“That’s why I’m here,” Mike replied. “I filed a motion to reduce his bond, but I’d still like to see him hire an attorney. I’ll keep working that angle with him.”
Several chairs along the wall opposite the jury box were reserved for the attorneys. Mike sat in the second chair from the end and scribbled a few notes on a legal pad. People began to drift into the courtroom. Bobby Lambert and Maxwell Forrest walked down the aisle and through the gate. Mike stood up.
“Good morning, Mr. Forrest,” he said.
Mike never called the gray-haired, distinguished-looking senior partner by his first name and knew few people under fifty who did.
“Good to see you, Mike,” Forrest replied with a smile. “Are you testifying as a character witness?”
“No, sir.”
“I forgot to tell you,” Bobby said to his senior partner. “Mike is representing a man pro bono. When he asked permission from the elders to do it, you’d have thought he wanted to bring a basket of snakes to the Sunday morning service.”
“I’m saving the snake request for next month,” Mike said.
“That should be easy compared to the other night. Convincing the other members of the session to let you help this man was one of the most difficult jobs of persuasion I’ve had all year.”
“Sorry I missed the argument,” Mike said. “I could have learned something, but you kicked me out of the room for the debate.”
“I didn’t want you to learn all my manipulative tricks. You might use them against me.”
Forrest smiled. “If you boys had spent as much time thinking up ways to help our clients as you did upstaging each other, all of us would have made a lot more money.”
The back door of the courtroom opened, and a sheriff ’s deputy brought in a line of four prisoners from the jail. Bringing up the rear and looking around the courtroom with a quizzical look on his face was Sam Miller. There was a visible bruise on his jaw where he’d been struck. The prisoners went into the jury box and sat on the front row. Mike walked toward Sam, but before he reached him, Judge Coberg came into the courtroom.
“All rise!” an elderly bailiff ordered.
Mike gave Sam an encouraging look before returning to the lawyers’ side of the courtroom.
“Be seated,” the judge said as soon as he positioned himself behind the bench.