Thirty-Five and a Half Conspiracies
Page 10
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
He laughed. “You really think you can save Skeeter Malcolm?”
“I already have, and I plan to again. I’m goin’ to save both of them.”
He turned grim after that. His phone rang, and he frowned as he picked it up. “Hold him off for a minute.” He hung up and sighed. “Your boyfriend’s already here and chomping at the bit to see you. Rest assured I’ll keep your involvement with Skeeter to myself. And I’ll let Jed know you’re out and safe for the time being. I suspect he’s goin’ to want to talk to you to get your side of what happened.” He winked. “Any favorable comments about my services would be greatly appreciated.”
“Why Jed?”
“Skeeter’s MIA.”
My stomach plummeted to my toes. “What?”
“Darn near the whole sheriff’s department showed up at his pool hall to arrest him for the murders of Scott Humphrey and Marcus Tilton, but Skeeter took off right before they got there.”
Skeeter had left me to deal with this mess?
The door opened and Mason burst into the room, Greta fast on his heels. She wore an apologetic look.
“I’m sorry, Carter. He refused to wait.”
Carter narrowed his eyes at my boyfriend. “And here I thought you were a rule-follower, Mason Deveraux.”
But Mason’s attention was focused on me. He was already pulling me to my feet and into a tight hug. “I’ve never been so happy to see someone in my entire life.”
I held him close. “I’m okay. Really. Just glad to be out.”
He released all but my hand, as if he couldn’t bear to stop touching me, and when he sat down in one of the chairs in front of Carter’s desk, I took a seat in the other. I distantly heard the door shut as Greta left the room.
“Who bailed her out?” Mason asked.
Carter made a face, picked up a paperclip off his desk, and leaned back in his chair. “That is the one million dollar question.” He winked as he started twisting the clip with his fingers. “Does the name Glenn Stout ring any bells?”
Mason’s hand tightened on mine. “Never heard of him.”
“He posted bail this morning around 11:30 via a courier.”
Mason shook his head. “Why would someone who doesn’t even know her get a bail bond? They’re going to lose one hundred thousand dollars.”
My mouth dropped open. “What?”
“That’s how this works,” Carter said. “If you don’t have enough cash, you gather up enough collateral to cover the bail should the defendant skip town and the trial. That’s what your boyfriend was doing, gathering up collateral. But the fee for doing that is ten percent. One hundred thousand dollars. That’s why the bail system is so effective. Most people don’t have a million dollars lying around, and who can afford to forfeit one hundred thousand? I’m sure the judge knew you and Deveraux were too cash poor to pony up.”
“Wait,” I said, turning to Mason. “You were going to give up one hundred thousand dollars to get me out of jail?”
His eyes hardened. “I couldn’t leave you in there.”
“It was only for three weeks, Mason.”
“Anything could have happened to you in three weeks. Carter wouldn’t have been able to get you solitary indefinitely.”
I shook my head. “Where were you getting the one hundred thousand cash?”
“My 401K.” He gave me a wry smile. “Good thing I didn’t cash it in to buy Joe out of the nursery, after all.”
I hadn’t even stopped to consider how all of this would affect the nursery I co-owed with my sister and Joe. I should have never offered him partnership after he sunk money into my business to save it. It was just one more hook he had in me.
“Isn’t that sweet?” Carter groaned out, sitting upright in his chair. “Can we get back to the business at hand?”
Mason shot him a glare.
“This wasn’t a bail bond. Glenn Stout posted one million cash.”
Mason’s hand tightened around mine again.
“And not only that,” Carter continued, “Mr. Stout had one million in cash ready and available a mere two hours after her arraignment, even though he is supposedly from Little Rock, which is roughly two hours away.”
Mason finally released his grip on me and leaned his forearms on the desk. “So this Mr. Stout was ready and waiting to post her bail.”
“It appears that way.”
“We need to find out anything and everything we can about this man,” Mason said, casting a glance first at me and then at Carter. “Someone who forked over that much money wants something from her.”
“Agreed. I plan to have Greta start looking into it as soon as we’re done here.”
“What’s your plan for her defense?” Mason asked, switching gears.
Carter shook his head. “You and I both know there is no defense that’s goin’ to work in this case.”
“That’s the best you’ve got?” Mason demanded, his eyes blazing. “You always pull out every trick in the book against me, and not to boast, but I’m a far better prosecutor than my boss.”
Carter smirked. “I’ve always hated pulling cases against you for that very reason. But you and I both know this case isn’t goin’ to hinge on the prosecution’s argument. The judge is goin’ to sway the jury to reach the verdict J.R. Simmons bought and paid for.”
“I already have, and I plan to again. I’m goin’ to save both of them.”
He turned grim after that. His phone rang, and he frowned as he picked it up. “Hold him off for a minute.” He hung up and sighed. “Your boyfriend’s already here and chomping at the bit to see you. Rest assured I’ll keep your involvement with Skeeter to myself. And I’ll let Jed know you’re out and safe for the time being. I suspect he’s goin’ to want to talk to you to get your side of what happened.” He winked. “Any favorable comments about my services would be greatly appreciated.”
“Why Jed?”
“Skeeter’s MIA.”
My stomach plummeted to my toes. “What?”
“Darn near the whole sheriff’s department showed up at his pool hall to arrest him for the murders of Scott Humphrey and Marcus Tilton, but Skeeter took off right before they got there.”
Skeeter had left me to deal with this mess?
The door opened and Mason burst into the room, Greta fast on his heels. She wore an apologetic look.
“I’m sorry, Carter. He refused to wait.”
Carter narrowed his eyes at my boyfriend. “And here I thought you were a rule-follower, Mason Deveraux.”
But Mason’s attention was focused on me. He was already pulling me to my feet and into a tight hug. “I’ve never been so happy to see someone in my entire life.”
I held him close. “I’m okay. Really. Just glad to be out.”
He released all but my hand, as if he couldn’t bear to stop touching me, and when he sat down in one of the chairs in front of Carter’s desk, I took a seat in the other. I distantly heard the door shut as Greta left the room.
“Who bailed her out?” Mason asked.
Carter made a face, picked up a paperclip off his desk, and leaned back in his chair. “That is the one million dollar question.” He winked as he started twisting the clip with his fingers. “Does the name Glenn Stout ring any bells?”
Mason’s hand tightened on mine. “Never heard of him.”
“He posted bail this morning around 11:30 via a courier.”
Mason shook his head. “Why would someone who doesn’t even know her get a bail bond? They’re going to lose one hundred thousand dollars.”
My mouth dropped open. “What?”
“That’s how this works,” Carter said. “If you don’t have enough cash, you gather up enough collateral to cover the bail should the defendant skip town and the trial. That’s what your boyfriend was doing, gathering up collateral. But the fee for doing that is ten percent. One hundred thousand dollars. That’s why the bail system is so effective. Most people don’t have a million dollars lying around, and who can afford to forfeit one hundred thousand? I’m sure the judge knew you and Deveraux were too cash poor to pony up.”
“Wait,” I said, turning to Mason. “You were going to give up one hundred thousand dollars to get me out of jail?”
His eyes hardened. “I couldn’t leave you in there.”
“It was only for three weeks, Mason.”
“Anything could have happened to you in three weeks. Carter wouldn’t have been able to get you solitary indefinitely.”
I shook my head. “Where were you getting the one hundred thousand cash?”
“My 401K.” He gave me a wry smile. “Good thing I didn’t cash it in to buy Joe out of the nursery, after all.”
I hadn’t even stopped to consider how all of this would affect the nursery I co-owed with my sister and Joe. I should have never offered him partnership after he sunk money into my business to save it. It was just one more hook he had in me.
“Isn’t that sweet?” Carter groaned out, sitting upright in his chair. “Can we get back to the business at hand?”
Mason shot him a glare.
“This wasn’t a bail bond. Glenn Stout posted one million cash.”
Mason’s hand tightened around mine again.
“And not only that,” Carter continued, “Mr. Stout had one million in cash ready and available a mere two hours after her arraignment, even though he is supposedly from Little Rock, which is roughly two hours away.”
Mason finally released his grip on me and leaned his forearms on the desk. “So this Mr. Stout was ready and waiting to post her bail.”
“It appears that way.”
“We need to find out anything and everything we can about this man,” Mason said, casting a glance first at me and then at Carter. “Someone who forked over that much money wants something from her.”
“Agreed. I plan to have Greta start looking into it as soon as we’re done here.”
“What’s your plan for her defense?” Mason asked, switching gears.
Carter shook his head. “You and I both know there is no defense that’s goin’ to work in this case.”
“That’s the best you’ve got?” Mason demanded, his eyes blazing. “You always pull out every trick in the book against me, and not to boast, but I’m a far better prosecutor than my boss.”
Carter smirked. “I’ve always hated pulling cases against you for that very reason. But you and I both know this case isn’t goin’ to hinge on the prosecution’s argument. The judge is goin’ to sway the jury to reach the verdict J.R. Simmons bought and paid for.”
