“Oh, yeah. Ah...let’s see...it’s different when you’re the one involved. First, I’ll make a court appearance to be arraigned, and will enter a plea at that time. The state will ask for remand and we’ll argue for release on bail.”
“Good. Custody is always the thing. Number one for anyone arrested is to get out of custody. You can be arrested and back on the street until your trial. But custody puts you in coveralls behind bars. The arraignment is at four this afternoon at the county courthouse.”
“Moran has no case against me.”
“Unfortunately, innocence is beside the point. State attorneys usually get what they want from a judge. As you know, the arraignment isn’t a trial. He just has to convince the judge something’s going on. You’re facing many weeks in jail. The judge isn’t likely to cross Moran, as he must deal with him every day. If Moran wants you held without bail, he just might get his wish. If he does agree to release you on bond, do you have any money for bail?”
“You know I don’t have a dime. Brother Raymond has a little. He signed for my tuition loans, but I make the payments. I doubt he has any money. You’ve probably heard, at present he’s running around in Milan with Meg Emerson, his wealthy stockbroker girlfriend. She’s a magician when it comes to money and they’re going into business together. They’re starting a retirement planning firm.
“When she said going into business, she didn’t mean hanging out her shingle in Park Beach. She’ll deal exclusively with Fortune 500 companies. Raymond will soon have a big bank account. I need to catch up. Here I am mid-thirties and my only asset is my car, gorgeous as it is. Meg told me they would hire me as counsel if I wanted to go into corporate law. I don’t want that. I want my own office in Park Beach defending the little people who the system considers powerless. That’s what’s going to happen if Moran will get off my back long enough for me to pass the bar and get my license.”
Kagan said, “I’ll sign for your bail bond if it comes to that.”
* * * *
Two hours later, at the arraignment, she entered a plea of not guilty and Kagan requested release on personal recognizance. As feared, Moran objected and requested no bail and remand of the prisoner to the custody of the sheriff.
Then Kagan spoke up unexpectedly, “Your honor, may we know the name of the other alleged conspirator?”
The question appeared to surprise Moran and he was flustered momentarily. “...The co-conspirator is...Abigail Olin.”
“And where is Abigail Olin at the present time?” Kagan asked.
“What do you mean, where is she?”
“Was she also remanded?”
Moran now realized where this was going and looked abashed at the judge. “Your honor, that’s different. Mrs. Olin was released on her recognizance when the charge against her was manslaughter of a prowler....”
Kagan interrupted quickly, “Your honor, why should my client, who may or may not have in truth conspired, be remanded if the alleged murderer is walking around?”
The judge struck his gavel, “The prisoner is released on personal recognizance. Next case!”
Chapter Eleven
Later that same day, around six o’clock, Sandy skipped happily down the courthouse front steps. “Getting those handcuffs off is delicious. Thanks Jerry.”
“An imperfect freedom, I’m afraid,” Kagan said. “Out of custody although still under arrest. Moran could still find a reason to go back before the judge and have your bail revoked.”
“At least I’ve some time to try to straighten all this out. So far not a single night in jail. You’re hot stuff, you know it? Now how do I get my car and things?”
“I checked. There’s no hold on your vehicle, however they’re holding your cell phone and laptop for evidence. I’ll drive you out to the sheriff’s office to get your vehicle and other personal items. We’ll stop somewhere and buy a throwaway cell. I know you’d be lost without a phone.”
“I’m lost without my laptop.”
They drove out to West County and after obtaining the release of her Miata from the auto pound, she thanked Kagan again and he left. She went in the sheriff’s office to retrieve her personal belongings and then found Triney and thanked him.
“Sandy you’re free. I can uncross my fingers now. But get away from me. I’m investigating you and Abby for murder conspiracy. I can’t talk to you without your lawyer present.”
“I know you can’t talk about my case. Did I ask you to talk about my case? We’re just talking about other things. Is it hot enough for you? Will the rain hurt the rhubarb? How ‘bout them Dolphins?”
“You’re cute. I know what you want. Okay, here it is. After you were jailed, I went to where you found the bike. I took my CSI buddy with me and we searched around. Found zilch, only a couple of old papers in the gutter but nothing fresh.”
“Was the bike still there?”
“Yes. And before you ask, yes, he dusted it. So we can add his name to the list of persons sticking their neck out who might be fired because of you. Only usable prints found belonged to a child.”
“So, if Jamie ever participated in one of those Children’s Fingerprinting for Safety drives at school, we could prove the bike belonged to her.”
“Not necessary. I took the bike over to Abby Olin and it positively is her daughter’s bike.”
“And?”
“And, nothing. According to her, you’re probably the one who took Jamie. She still won’t report her as missing.”
“Okay, I hereby report Jamie Olin, a ten-year-old, is missing.”
“No good, the report has to be made by a parent or some sort of guardian.”
“Can’t Child Welfare or somebody step in?”
“Not without more evidence that she’s missing.”
“Okay, I’m going to get you more evidence. I wonder where Jamie’s father is. If I can locate him, would you instigate an investigation on his behalf?”
“Maybe we’d have to. One more thing. Everyone and his brother knows Chip will be helping you on your arrest and on the kidnapping. Warn him he’d better be damn careful. Because Moran would love to nail him for getting involved.”
“What’s the latest on Detective Pomar? Is he still on the shitlist for helping me that night?”
“I put a warning in his personnel file. Told him to watch being influenced by wild women, especially cute ones.”
“Thanks for everything.”
She drove the short distance over to where she had stopped at the ficus hedge near the school. She walked around where she had found the bicycle and up and down the nearby curb. Across the street was a vacant lot and next to it the only house on that side that would have had a view of the abduction. The occupant was an elderly woman who was happy to cooperate, but she hadn’t gone to her front window until she heard the honking.
Sandy waited there in her car and approached the few people who walked on either side. Did they remember a young girl riding a blue bike in the neighborhood yesterday morning? Perhaps someone stopping a car to talk to a girl with a bike. Nothing. A long shot, at best. She’d come back in the morning to look for people that might walk at the earlier time every day. She was there until dark. She had the odd feeling that Jamie, wherever she was, somehow knew Sandy was looking for her.
She drove back to Park Beach and to Kagan’s law office. She let herself into the dark and quiet office and booted the computer. She searched Florida Vital Records online and found Jamie Olin’s birth record immediately. It had a Kevin R. Olin, age 31, listed as the father.
Next, she did a “find-anyone” search and came up with three initial listings for Kevin R. Olin. Twenty-one dollars later, she had three DOB’s, current addresses, and cell phone numbers. Let’ see, Jamie is now ten and one man listed is forty-one, so bingo! The Kevin R. Olin living in Athens, Georgia is the daddy.
