Jackie/Lori Merritt/Myles - Her Best Defense

Lisa had been to this building several times over the past few years, but it never ceased to give her chills every time she walked through the front doors. The simple truth was that she could have very easily ended up on the wrong side of these bars had it not been for her mother.

Lisa had been only twelve when her father had been gunned down, shot in an alley, murdered for no apparent reason. The toll on both her and her mother had been monstrous. Her mother had fallen into a deep depression that had lasted for months. At the time, Lisa had felt as though she’d lost both parents that fateful night, and in a way she had. With no one left to turn to, she had turned, as so often happened with children growing up in Wellston, to the streets. Her friends became the kids who lived and worked in the neighborhood as lookouts and runners for drug dealers and usually ended up in the life themselves.

What had finally snapped her mother out of her depression was the night Lisa came home with a pocketful of money. She had worked as a lookout all night and was given a small percentage of the take. It was a fortune to Lisa and she thought she’d found her calling. Claudia thought otherwise. And after making Lisa return the money, she began taking a strong and parental interest in whatever her daughter was doing.

At first, Lisa hated it and hated her mother for watching every move she made. Later, she loved her mother more than she could say and thanked her with her nightly phone calls.

“There but by the grace of God and Mom go I,” Lisa whispered as she passed a group of young women, obviously prostitutes, waiting to be booked.

Lisa showed her identification and bar association card to the guard at the front desk. “I’m here to see Glory Witherington,” she explained. “I’m her legal counsel.”

The guard directed Lisa down a long corridor. There were several small rooms on either side for attorneys and clients to use for consultations. She had been told that Mrs. Witherington was in the third room on the left.

A guard was posted at each end of the hall behind a wall of bars. A third guard followed the attorneys to their rooms to unlock the doors from the corridor side. Apparently this was a vulnerable spot in the correction center, being the last chance for anyone wishing to make a break for it, so every precaution was taken to ensure that didn’t happen. All the guards were armed, and none of them looked the least bit interested in playing games. Lisa could only imagine what these men and women, after working here for several years, had seen, and she could honestly say she didn’t envy them their jobs. However, she did respect them immeasurably.

Glory was seated at an old wooden table wiping her hands with a tissue. Lisa guessed she was still trying to remove the ink from the fingerprinting that had occurred earlier. Either that or she was just trying to wipe away the day.

“It’s about time!” Glory snapped as soon as she saw Lisa. “Can I go home now?”

Lisa bit her tongue. How was she ever going to get through an entire murder trial with this self-centered woman and her condescending husband?

“You won’t be able to leave until after the arraignment, and only then if the judge agrees to bail.”

“The what?”

“It’s called an arraignment and it’s where we tell a judge what our intentions are.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s where we plead you guilty or not guilty, Glory. If it’s not guilty—”

“Of course it’s not guilty!” Glory shouted.

“Glory, please, I’m simply trying explain the procedure to you. We’re not holding the trial yet.”

“All right then, explain it to me.”

“When we tell the judge that you are not guilty, the district attorney will make a motion requesting your incarceration until trial and—”

“What! Are they insane?”

“Glory, it’s part of the procedure. It doesn’t mean they actually expect you to go to jail. They know Chandler will put up a bond and since you don’t have a…” Lisa paused for a moment. She had wanted to say that since Glory didn’t have a record, there would be no reason for the judge to even consider putting her behind bars. However, Glory did have a record and even though it was for drunk and disorderly conduct, it would be considered and brought up. But did she really want to tell Glory about that now and have her fly off the handle again? “Since you have never been arrested for anything serious before, there shouldn’t be a problem with your going home as soon as Chandler writes a check. It’s possible that you will be home by this evening.”

“I can’t believe this is happening at all,” Glory said under her breath, almost to herself. “Chandler said he could fix anything.”

“What did you say?” Had she heard Glory correctly? And if she had, what had Glory meant by it?

A funny look crossed Glory’s face briefly before she spoke. Lisa likened it to a child being caught telling a lie or swiping a piece of candy he had been told he couldn’t have.

“You know men,” Glory finally said with a laugh. “They think they can fix anything.” She then went back to wiping her hands. “But even the great Chandler Witherington can’t make the world stop turning.”

Lisa studied her client for a few moments. The woman’s hands were perfectly clean; the tissue she was using was nothing more then a small wad of cotton, crumpled and torn and barely recognizable. What had just happened here? Had Glory just admitted something?

For the first time since their initial meeting, Lisa detected a touch of vulnerability in her client. Lisa’s heart softened. She certainly didn’t know Glory well enough yet to judge her harshly or otherwise, but it was strangely satisfying to realize that even though Glory Witherington brimmed with better-than-thou eccentricities, she also had a human side.

Still, she was a strange one, Lisa had to add to her adjusted understanding of Glory. Most people—men and women alike—just arrested for murder were emotional, showing it in varying ways, of course—some weeping, some angry and cursing. The only evidence she could see of what Glory might truly be feeling was that ragged piece of tissue in her hands.

She got to her feet. “Glory, you will be informed of the time for the arraignment and delivered to the scheduled courtroom. I will be there, as will Chandler.”

And then Glory destroyed all of the softness Lisa had just felt toward her by speaking like a queen to a lowly subject. “Be sure and get me out of here,” she spat. “This place is a sty!”

The arraignment was held late in the day. The courtroom was packed and they had to sit through a dozen other criminal indictments before Glory Witherington’s name was called. Lisa took over and handled the proceeding like the pro she was. Although the prosecutor argued against bail on the basis of the defendant’s past record, and her wealth, which would permit her to easily leave the country, Lisa beat him at every turn. Glory’s arrest records were ancient history and should not be permitted to taint this case. The judge ruled in her favor after asking for Glory’s passport to be surrendered. Just as Lisa had expected.

As for bail, the evidence provided by the prosecution was circumstantial at best, and Lisa put it before the court that Glory could easily be an innocent woman. The state’s case was not strong enough to deny bail, and again the judge agreed. Bail was set at a million dollars, and Chandler wrote a check for that amount. His expediency at this juncture made a good impression on Lisa; he must truly believe in his wife’s innocence. The final task was to set a date for the preliminary hearing, which the judge did without preamble. It was over. Chandler escorted his wife out and Lisa followed them into the corridor.