Marie Ferrarella - Cavanaugh Judgement

Taking a deep breath, ignoring the babbling lawyer, Blake slowly looked around the empty courtroom.

Frustration ate away at him. He sincerely regretted his own ruling which had specifically forbidden any videotaping of proceedings. At the time his thinking had been that he didn’t want tapes to be leaked to the media, didn’t want cases to be compromised because some reporter wanted to break a story.

But in this case, if there had been a video camera on, it would have caught the events preceding Munro’s escape on tape and that would have been a godsend. Blake had a gut feeling that Munro hadn’t acted alone. This wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment thing. The man had to have had help. A lot of help. Blake was willing to bet a year’s salary on it.

Wells was still sputtering that he was offended that someone of the judge’s caliber would actually think that he would lower himself to aid a criminal.

“I could be disbarred!” he declared dramatically.

Greer had a feeling the man was just warming up. She was about to tell him to keep quiet when Kincannon beat her to it.

“Please spare me your self-righteous protests, Mr. Wells. I am well aware of your record. No one enters my courtroom without my knowing his background,” he told the man. “Someone who loses as often as you do can’t possibly support himself in this line of work without having something else going on on the side.”

Wells’s dark eyebrows rose all the way up his very large forehead, all but meeting the semicircle of fringe that surrounded the back of his head. “Your Honor, I give you my word—”

Greer didn’t know how much more they could take. “That and two dollars will get you a ride on the bus,” she observed.

Damn, she’d done it again, Greer thought. That wasn’t supposed to have come out. Not because she didn’t mean it, but because she had no idea how Kincannon would react to her flippant attitude.

But when her eyes met his, if anything, Kincannon appeared to be somewhat amused. Or, at the very least, in agreement.

“My sentiments exactly,” he told her.

The din just beyond the double doors in the hallway suddenly increased, swelling to three times its original decibel level.

Hopefully, there was only one reason for that. “Maybe they found him,” Greer guessed, looking at Kincannon. With that, she decided to see for herself. Moving quickly, Greer hurried out the double doors to find out. She’d intended to report back.

She should have known better. Apparently Kincannon didn’t like to remain stationary.

“Maybe,” she heard him agree, then add, “You stay here.” Since she was all but out the door, he had to be addressing the order to Wells. “I want to have a few more words with you when I get back.”

Greer stopped dead the second she was out the doors.

There were two paramedics in the hallway. Two paramedics pushing a gurney.

A feeling of déjà vu slid over her. That and a great deal of uneasy confusion.

She wasn’t the only one experiencing it.

Even before Greer reached the paramedics, she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something was terribly off.

The lead paramedic looked only slightly friendlier than a rattlesnake.

“Look, we got the call and got here as fast as we could. MacArthur Boulevard’s a parking lot,” he bit off, his words directed at the chief. “Now, is there a patient or isn’t there? We’re short-handed and we don’t have any time for some damn game.”

Instead of answering the man, Brian put in a call to dispatch.

“Yeah, Hallie, it’s Chief Cavanaugh. How many ambulances did you send out?” He listened to the answer. “Okay, describe the paramedics.” He frowned. “What do you mean you can’t keep track?”

“Chief,” Greer interrupted, pushing her way through the crowd. “Let me send her a picture so she can identify them,” she suggested.

Brian paused. He looked at his cell phone uncertainly, then lifted his eyes to Greer’s. “Does this—?”

She nodded, knowing what he was going to ask, sparing him the embarrassment of having to put it into words. “Yes, it does,” she assured him. Taking his phone, she snapped a shot of the two disgruntled-looking paramedics. Done, she quickly forwarded it to the woman on the other end of the line, then handed the cell phone back to the chief.

Confirmation was almost immediate.

“You didn’t send another team?” Brian knew the answer before he even asked the question. His mouth was grim as he muttered, “Thanks.”

Flipping the phone closed, Brian regarded the officers gathered around him. The paramedics were all but forgotten. “Right under our noses,” he declared, his voice low and steely.

He made Greer think of a volcano that was trying not to erupt.

Confused, Blake looked from the chief of detectives to the animated narcotics detective at his side. It was now a foregone conclusion that the first set of paramedics who’d whisked Timothy Kelly away had been bogus. However, the rest of it didn’t make sense to him.

“But why would they kidnap the bailiff? If they were in on the escape, wouldn’t they have found a way to make off with Munro?” he asked.

Who said they didn’t? Greer thought as she shook her head. “They didn’t kidnap the bailiff, the bailiff was part of it.”

Blake refused to believe it. He could remember Tim’s first day on the job. So obviously wet behind the ears, the young bailiff had been so eager to please, so eager to do a good job, it had almost been painful to watch. “But they almost killed him,” he protested.

Brian was clearly struggling to keep his temper under control. “Almost being the operative word,” the chief pointed out.

“No, you’re wrong,” Kincannon insisted. “I know the man. He’s shown me photographs of his wife, of his baby daughter. A man like that doesn’t suddenly get up one morning and decide to help a career felon escape out of a courtroom.”

He was having trouble with this, Greer realized. Rather than instantly become indignant because he’d been duped, Kincannon was searching for some elusive reason that would explain what happened and absolve the bailiff of any wrongdoing beyond being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She had to grudgingly admit she found that admirable. At the very least, that made the judge more of a human being than most who sat on the bench.

Reviewing the situation, she realized that there was possibly a plausible explanation that could be acceptable to both sides. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed to fit. She sincerely doubted that Kincannon could be easily deceived.

“Maybe he didn’t just wake up one morning and decide to help a hardened felon escape,” she suggested, her conviction growing stronger with each word. “Maybe Tim Kelly had no choice.”

Janelle had been quiet this entire time, remaining out of her father’s way as he took charge of the situation. But now she seemed compelled to point out the obvious flaw in her new cousin’s theory. “They weren’t holding a gun to his head, Greer,” she said, her tone of voice barely masking the frustration she clearly felt over the drug dealer’s escape.

Greer knew that Janelle had spent a great deal of time preparing this case and was almost certain she would have won. Now, it looked as if all that time she’d put in had been wasted.

“Maybe they were holding one to his family,” she countered, standing her ground against her indignant cousin.

The moment she made the suggestion, Greer could see that the explanation was more than acceptable to Kincannon. But his opinion wasn’t the one that counted here.

Greer shifted her eyes toward the chief, holding her breath. Waiting.