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My anxiety spikes. Why so much preparation for one hearing?
Z
“Frazier! You’re up.”
“About fucking time.”
I’ve been pacing my cell all morning, waiting to get transported to the county court for my bail hearing.
My lawyer meets me in another cramped room. This one’s decorated with orange chairs. Can’t say it’s an improvement.
“This is going to be my strategy today, Mr. Frazier.”
I sit up, intrigued that the sedate attorney I met the other day seems so riled up this morning. “I’m going to pick some holes in their evidence. Give the prosecutor a taste of the defense I’m going to present. I want to give the judge an idea of how weak this case is without tipping our hand too much.”
“Okay.”
“I won’t need you to say anything. If the judge asks you any questions, answer as truthfully and respectfully as possible.”
“I’ll do my best.”
He hesitates then seems to think better of commenting. “Like I told you before, arson is hard to prove. Even harder when the prosecutor doesn’t even seem to think he has a strong case. I’m not sure why they’re pressing you for this, but I think we have a good chance of getting it dismissed before we get near a trial.”
“Thank fuck.” The last thing I want to do is have this bullshit hanging over my head for the next couple years.
“Don’t get too excited. I’m not promising you anything, Mr. Frazier. The judge might decide to set the bail high or not set bail at all. Obviously, I’ll keep fighting for it, but I want you to be prepared that you might not get out today.”
I remember how many tries it took before Rock was finally released from jail. It had taken a toll on the whole club. In a way, we’re more unified than ever by having the upstate and downstate charters as closely connected as they’ve been since Sway got shot. Instead of trying to help us back then, Sway had just caused more trouble.
“Mr. Frazier?”
“I understand.”
“Okay.” He pats my arm.
“You can call me Z. Everyone else does.”
He grins. “Let’s get you out first. Then I’ll have earned it.”
This lawyer’s starting to grow on me.
The judge looks like a mean old take-no-bullshit sort of guy. The prosecutor’s so young his voice cracks and he trembles every time the judge addresses him directly.
This is the asshole prosecuting me? I’m mildly insulted.
“Your honor.” My lawyer stands and buttons his jacket, pausing for dramatic effect. “I’ve had a chance to review the scant amount of evidence the prosecution supposedly has against my client and it’s weak at best.”
The judge waves his hand at the prosecutor to bring him some papers. The court room’s completely silent as he flips through the pages then thrusts them at the lawyer who practically runs back to his table.
“That’s it?” the judge asks.
“We still need time to develop our case, your honor, but we have a strong—”
The judge zeroes in on me. “You a flight risk?”
I stand and meet his penetrating stare. “No, sir.”
He gestures wildly with his hands. “Give me more, Mr. Frazier. You’re one of these motorcycle guys, right? Like to be on the road? What’s stopping you from taking off if I let you out today?”
The prosecutor stands up. “Your honor—”
“Was I speaking to you?”
“No, sir.”
“Sit down.”
I smother the chuckle rising in my throat and lift my chin. “Your honor, my motorcycle club is really more of a family. They’re all here in New York. I’m not going anywhere. “
“Mr. Frazier is also responsible for running several local businesses, your honor,” my attorney adds.
“Your ‘club’ has bases of operation in other states outside of New York, Mr. Frazier?” the judge asks, ignoring my lawyer.
“Yes, sir.” I rattle off a few of the states where we have charters. “But I’ve never been a member of any club outside of New York. Born and raised here, sir.”
He grunts and nods, flipping through the folder on his desk.
“Your honor, my client has had no arrests within the last ten years. Not even a traffic ticket,” Mr. Sanders argues.
“I see that.”
My vision tunnels down to just the judge. My heart slows yet thumps impossibly loud as I wait for him to say something else.
Finally, he lifts his head and searches the crowd behind me. “You.” He points to someone in the audience. “You here for your brother?”
I turn slightly and realize he’s speaking to Rock.
Rock stands and doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Yes, sir.”
“You can look me in the eye and swear he’s not going anywhere?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve known Angus personally for over twenty years, sir. He’s a man of his word.”
“Give me more and state your name for the record.”
Rock glances at Sanford who motions him forward. “Rochlan North. Angus helps me run one of our businesses in Empire. Never missed a day of work, sir.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He’s also godfather to my baby daughter. Visits with her every chance he gets.”
I flash a smile at Rock, knowing it’s probably killing him to continue with the polite, sentimental routine.
“So, he’s welcomed in your home?” the judge asks.
“Always. He’s close friends with my wife as well.”
My lawyer frowns and taps his fingers against the table. Obviously, he doesn’t like the direction this line of question is going.
The prosecutor raises his hand like he’s in school. “Your honor, while this is all well and good, arson is a crime of violence—”
“Sit down, Mr. McCann.” The judge wags his finger at the people behind me again. “You three. Are you here to vouch for Mr. Frazier too?”
Teller stands first. “Yes, sir. He’s been a mentor and brother to me since I was a teenager. Kept me out of trouble many times.”
The judge grunts.
Rooster and Jigsaw also extol my many virtues, then sit down.
“How come my courtroom isn’t full of brothers from your club, Mr. North?” the judge asks.
Rock glances behind him. “We came to support Angus. And maybe give him a ride should bail be set. We’re not here to make a statement, sir.”
A carefully crafted answer from my cunning friend. MCs are notorious for filling up a courtroom when a brother’s been accused of a crime. Usually to intimidate. My club not posturing that way seems to support my innocence.
“You can go back to your seat, Mr. North,” the judge says.
Mr. Sanford breathes a sigh of relief.
“You got anything better than this steaming pile of garbage, Attorney McCann?” the judge asks the prosecutor.
“Your honor, we have a solid case, with a witness—”
“A witness who thinks she saw a black motorcycle on a dark road on the night in question. It’s not even clear why she made the statement to this…officer.” The judge leans forward. “You’re joking, right?”
So, the witness is a female.
“Fleeing the scene of the fire, sir,” the prosecutor insists.
The judge snorts.
“We haven’t been able to determine an address for Mr. Frazier,” the prosecutor tries again.
“Where do you live, Mr. Frazier?” the judge asks.
I rattle off the address of the house I’m sharing with Lilly, hoping like fuck I didn’t just hand the police an invitation to come search it. “I recently moved down here, your honor. But I have a six-month lease with the option for longer.”
“See, it’s not a permanent address.” The prosecutor sounds like a tattling third-grader.
“Where’d you live before that?” the judge asks.
I give him the address upstate that I use for my driver’s license. “T
hat’s still technically my permanent residence, sir.”
The judge swings his piercing gaze the prosecutor’s way again. “So, in twenty years, he’s moved all of what? Eighty-two miles. Big flight risk.”
“Your honor—”
“And you have at best, a weak case. I see no other indication he’s a threat to the community. Bail is set at fifty-thousand. You are not to leave the state, Mr. Frazier, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
“All right. Fifty-thousand. Cash or bond.”
Sanford jumps up. “Thank you, your honor, we’re prepared to pay immediately.”
“Your honor, we strongly object—”
“I’m sure you do, Mr. McCann. Next time bring me something more compelling. Fifty-thousand, cash or bond, and the defendant is free to go home today.” He slams his gavel down. “Next case.”
The bailiff pushes us away from the defense table and leads me in the back to get my things. Mr. Sanford follows.
Rock came prepared and puts down the money to get me released. After another hour of paperwork and bullshit, I’m handed my stuff and able to get out of the hideous green jumpsuit.
