The chains hit the floor. One of the guards leaned down and gathered them in one hand.
Sam leaned into the girl’s shoulder as they walked to the table. Sam sat down. The guard pushed Kelly down into the chair beside her.
Kelly looked back at her parents. “I’m okay,” she told them, her voice quivering. “I’m okay.”
The door opened to the judge’s chamber.
The court clerk said, “All rise for Judge Stanley Lyman.”
Sam nodded to Kelly, indicating that she should stand. As the judge walked to the bench, Kelly grabbed Sam’s hand again. Her palms were soaked with sweat.
Stan Lyman appeared to be Rusty’s age, absent the avuncular spring in his step. Judges were a varied breed. Some were confident enough to simply take their place at the bench. Others sought to establish their dominance the moment they entered the courtroom. Stan Lyman fell into the latter category. He scowled as he scanned the gallery, the overflowing prosecution table. His gaze stopped on Sam. He performed an almost mechanical assessment of every section of her body, as if processing her through an MRI. She had not been so thoroughly inspected by a man since her last physical.
He banged his gavel, his eyes still on Sam. “Be seated.”
Sam sat, pulling Kelly down beside her. The unwelcome butterflies returned. She wondered if Charlie was watching from the gallery.
The clerk announced, “This is case number OA 15-925, Dickerson County versus Kelly Rene Wilson, for arraignment.” She turned to Ken Coin. “Counsel, please state your name for the record.”
Coin stood and addressed the judge. “Good afternoon, Your Honor. Kenneth C. Coin, Darren Nickelby, Eugene ‘Cotton’ Henderson, and Kaylee Collins for the county.”
Lyman gave a stern nod. “Good afternoon.”
Sam stood again. “Your Honor, Samantha Quinn for Miss Wilson, who is present.”
“Afternoon.” Lyman nodded again. “This arraignment will qualify as a probable cause hearing. Miss Quinn, if you and Miss Wilson will stand for arraignment.”
Sam nodded for Kelly to stand beside her. The girl was shaking again. Sam did not hold her hand. Kelly would be in and out of courtrooms for the next several years. She needed to learn to stand on her own.
“Miss Quinn.” Lyman stared down at Sam from the bench. He had gone off-script. “You will remove those sunglasses in my courtroom.”
Sam was momentarily bewildered by the request. Her lenses had been darkened for so many years that she hardly remembered. “Your Honor, these are my prescription glasses. They’re tinted for a medical condition.”
“Come up here.” He waved her to the bench. “Let me see them.”
Sam felt the mad thumping of her heart in her chest. One hundred sets of eyes were on her back. Cameras were clicking. Reporters were noting every word. Ken Coin coughed into his hand again, but said nothing to vouch for her.
Sam left her cane in her purse. She burned with humiliation as she limped toward the judge. The cameras sounded like dozens of grasshoppers rubbing together their legs. The images they captured would be printed in newspapers, perhaps shown online where Sam’s colleagues would see them. The stories that accompanied the photos would likely delve into why she needed her glasses. The locals in the gallery, the ones who had been around for years, would gladly provide the details. They were scrutinizing Sam’s gait, trying to see how much damage the bullet had done.
She was a veritable freak at the circus sideshow.
At the bench, Sam’s hand trembled as she removed her glasses. The harsh fluorescent light stabbed into her corneas. She told the judge, “Please be careful with them. I didn’t bring a spare.”
Lyman took the glasses, roughly, then held them up for inspection. “Were you not told to dress appropriately for my courtroom?”
Sam looked down at her outfit, the same variation on the black silk blouse and flowing black pants she wore every day. “I beg your pardon?”
“What are you wearing?”
“Armani,” she told the judge. “May I have my glasses returned, please?”
He placed them on the bench with a hard tap. “You may take your place.”
Sam checked the lenses for smudges. She slipped on the glasses. She turned back around. She searched for Charlie in the crowd, but all she could see were the vaguely familiar faces, older now, of people she recognized from her childhood.
The walk back was longer than the walk to the bench. She reached out for the table. At the last minute, she saw Ben sitting in the gallery directly behind Ken Coin. He winked at her, smiling his encouragement.
Kelly took Sam’s hand as they stood together. She repeated Sam’s encouragement back to her. “You’re okay.”
“I am, thank you.” Sam let the girl hold her hand. She was too rattled to do otherwise.
Judge Lyman cleared his throat a few times. That he had seemingly realized the hell he’d put Sam through came as no consolation. She knew from experience that some judges covered their mistakes by punishing the lawyer from whom it had been elicited.
He said, “Miss Quinn, do you waive the full reading of the charges against Miss Wilson?”
Sam was tempted to tell him no, but the departure from the norm would only drag out the proceedings. “We do.”
Lyman nodded to the clerk. “You may arraign Miss Wilson and advise her of her rights.”
The clerk stood up again. “Kelly Rene Wilson, you have been arrested on probable cause for two counts of murder in the first degree. Miss Quinn, are you prepared to enter a plea?”
Sam said, “We would ask the Court to enter the plea of not guilty.”
There came a titter of shock from the ill-informed crowd. Lyman lifted up his gavel, but the noise died off before he brought it down.
The clerk said, “A not guilty plea is entered on behalf of the defendant to all counts.” The woman turned to Kelly. Sam thought there was something familiar about her round face. Another schoolmate, long forgotten. She had not spoken up for Sam when the judge had demanded her glasses, either.
The clerk said, “Kelly Rene Wilson, you have a right to a public, speedy trial by jury. You have a right to counsel. You have a right against self-incrimination. These rights abide and stay with you throughout the proceeding.”
“Thank you.” Lyman lowered his hand. Sam told Kelly to sit. The judge said, “The first issue for me is, Mr. Coin, do you believe there will be a superseding indictment subsequent to convening a grand jury?”
Sam made a note in her pad as Ken Coin shuffled to the podium. Another one of his cheap tricks, trying to establish dominance. As with a child, the best thing to do was ignore him.
“Your Honor.” Coin leaned his elbows on the podium. “There is a definite possibility.”
Lyman asked, “Do you have a timetable?”
“Not definitely, Your Honor. Ballpark for convening is within the next two weeks.”