‘Sheriff Whiteside, is this true?’ she asked, the lines of her face deepening, puckering around her mouth. ‘Didn’t you seek consent to search the vehicle?’
Audra turned her head, saw Whiteside stand up from his chair among the crowd of onlookers, his hat gripped in his hands, and clear his throat.
‘No, Your Honor,’ he said, ‘it’s not true. I had consent to search.’
‘The defendant says different,’ the judge said. ‘I need better than your word, Sheriff.’
Whiteside met her stare, straightened his back, raised his head. ‘My word is all I have, and if that’s not good enough for—’
‘No, it is not good enough for me, Sheriff. Let’s try applying some logic to this, shall we?’
Whiteside seemed to lose an inch in height. A twitch below his left eye.
A hush fell over the press people who occupied the rear part of the town hall’s meeting room. Tables had been arranged in an approximation of a court layout, one each for the defense and the prosecution, both facing another, where Judge Miller now sat, a weary expression on her face. She removed her spectacles and placed them on the notepad in front of her.
As soon as they’d arrived, Hendry had gone to the middle-aged man at the other table, the one whose suit was too tight and too old, and they had huddled together, whispering into each other’s ears. The state prosecutor, Audra had guessed. Hendry had explained that Joel Redmond would have shown up expecting a simple plea to a minor offense. He certainly didn’t look prepared for what Hendry told him. The prosecutor had sat back in his chair, shaking his head, then stood and walked to where the judge sat. Judge Miller had shook her head in much the same manner as Redmond, as he went back to the table to pack up his things.
Now Judge Miller spoke again.
‘So, you spot this car that you deem to be overloaded. You pull it over, find a lone woman inside.’
Audra went to speak, but Hendry took hold of her wrist, silenced her.
‘What was it about this scenario that gave you probable cause to search the vehicle?’ She raised a hand before Whiteside could reply. ‘Let me answer that for you: Nothing. You had no good reason to search the vehicle, so you had no good reason to seek consent. Therefore I’m inclined to believe the defendant’s version of events.’
Whiteside shuffled his feet, fingered the brim of his hat.
‘Well, Your Honor, I was already in the trunk, with the idea of moving some of the boxes over to my car, thus alleviating the load on the defendant’s rear axle. Since I was already there, I felt permission to search was implicit.’
‘Sheriff Whiteside, did you just become a law-enforcement officer in the last five minutes?’
‘No, Your Honor.’
‘The last five days? Five weeks? Five months?’
Whiteside sighed. ‘No, Your Honor. I joined this sheriff’s department when I left the military in 1993.’
‘So you’ve been an officer of the law for almost a quarter of a century,’ she said, a hint of a smile on her small mouth.
‘Yes, Your Honor.’
Her face hardened, her eyes fixing Whiteside like green lasers. ‘Then you know damn well that trunk was private property, and you had no business opening it and rooting around, and nothing you found there is admissible as evidence before any court, even one as half-assed as this.’
‘Your Honor.’
Whiteside’s eyes met Audra’s. Another twitch.
Judge Miller returned the spectacles to her nose, scribbled something on the pad. ‘Mr Redmond tells me he’s going to save wasting any more of our time and drop this stupid case like a hot potato. Sheriff Whiteside, I do not appreciate being asked to drag my ass all the way to Elder County, only to find I’d have been better off staying home. Is my displeasure clear to you, Sheriff?’
‘Yes, Your Honor,’ he said.
Judge Miller turned her attention to Audra.
‘Mrs Kinney, as I understand it, you have not been arrested in relation to the whereabouts of your children, nor have you been charged with any other offense. As such, you are free to go.’
Audra fought the urge to cry. The reporters hummed and rattled like an engine come to life. The prosecutor closed his briefcase, stood, and headed for the exit.
‘However,’ Judge Miller said. She slapped the table with a bony palm. ‘Goddamn it, shut the hell up back there. Go on outside if you need to yammer at each other, goddamn pack of vultures.’ She waited a moment for the hush to return. ‘However, I believe Detective Showalter has something for me.’
‘Yes, Your Honor,’ Showalter said, getting to his feet. ‘May I approach?’
‘You may.’
Showalter stepped past the desk where Audra sat next to the lawyer. He did not look around at Audra, walked straight to the judge and handed over a manila envelope.
‘Your Honor,’ he said, ‘as you know, Audra Kinney is at the center of an ongoing investigation into the disappearance of her children. I travelled back to Phoenix this morning and applied to the Family Court for a special order against Mrs Kinney, barring her from leaving the town boundary of Silver Water until our investigation is concluded.’
Judge Miller pulled a letter and a form from the envelope, gave them a cursory glance.
‘Does Mrs Kinney have accommodation?’
‘Your Honor, I spoke to Mrs Anne Gerber, proprietor of River View guesthouse. She hasn’t let a room in some time, but she has agreed to rent a room to Mrs Kinney for the next few nights.’
‘Very well,’ Judge Miller said. ‘Mrs Kinney, do you understand? You are free to leave this court, but you are not free to leave this town. If you put one foot beyond the town boundary, you’ll be put straight back in a cell. Is that clear?’
Audra had stopped listening.
Out.
She gripped the table as a dizzy wave washed through her.
I can get out of the cell.
No matter that she couldn’t leave the town, she didn’t want to. But now she could try to find her children. She had no idea how, but at least she’d have space to think.
‘Yes, Your Honor,’ she said.
Judge Miller went to gather up her things. ‘This court is dismissed,’ she said. ‘Good day, everyone.’
Audra stood. ‘Ma’am, may I speak with you, please?’
Judge Miller removed her glasses once more, sighed, then beckoned with one long finger.
Audra approached, unsure if her legs could support her for the few steps that would take her to the judge’s table. But she reached it, and once there, she lowered herself so that their eyes were on a level.
‘Ma’am, I—’
‘Please, address me as Your Honor.’
‘Your Honor, I need help.’
‘Sweetheart, that ain’t news to anyone.’
Audra pointed back over her shoulder at Sheriff Whiteside. ‘That man, him and the deputy, they took my children. Sean and Louise. I think my husband paid them to do it. I need to get my kids back. They’re all I have in the world. I’ll die without them. Please help me. Please do something.’
Judge Miller gave her a kind smile. She reached across the table and took Audra’s hand in hers.
‘Honey, the only help I can give you is advice. Just tell the truth. Whatever happens, whatever they say to you, just tell the truth. It’s the only thing that ever helps anyone. You hear me?’
Her fingers tightened on Audra’s wrist.
‘Just tell them what you did with your children,’ she said. ‘Just tell them where the bodies are and it’ll all be over. I promise.’
21
THE WALK FROM the town hall to the guesthouse took less than five minutes, but for Audra it lasted a lifetime. Hendry had refused to escort her, saying as he walked away that he’d discharged his responsibilities. As they huddled around the table in the makeshift courtroom, Sheriff Whiteside offered to do it, but Audra said no, she’d rather brave the journalists on her own.
‘Shit,’ Special Agent Mitchell said. ‘I’ll do it. Detective Showalter, Special Agent Abrahms, you’re coming too. Let’s go.’
Showalter stood back from the table, said, ‘Nuh-uh, not me. No, thank you.’