Laughter came first. That was unexpected. The judge and Goldberg stepped back into the courtroom together, still laughing. Behind them, Kara Belmont followed. She looked pale.
The judge didn’t sit right away. One hand rested on his bench as he looked down at Robert Goldberg.
“You may be seated,” he said to the room in a conversational tone.
Everyone present followed his order. Belmont sat too, looking like a pouting child.
“I still can’t believe he hit that hole from that far,” Judge McKenna said.
“Well,” Goldberg answered easily, “it was the only one he hit all day. A squirrel bit him in the leg two holes later, and he had to get a rabies shot at the hospital.”
The judge laughed again, shaking his head.
Only then did he lower himself into his chair.
Goldberg’s smile faded quickly.
“Anyway,” Goldberg said. “I’ll put together a full list of the new evidence when I get back to my office. Most of it is already sitting in police files that were never properly examined. Like the video footage of John Myers covered in blood at the gas station. That will have to be entered again. The testimony of the gas station owner too. Mrs. Dustin’s statement will be taken formally.” A pause. “We’ll move immediately on DNA. John Myers’ blood was recovered at the Kolter crime scene.We’ll compare it to Zach Nabb’s case.” He shook his head. “The evidence is damning. The same man shown on the gas station video covered in blood tried to murder the victim’s mother when she began asking the questions law enforcement should have been asking all along.”
Judge McKenna nodded brusquely. “I’ll ensure the court-ordered psychological evaluation is completed this week. There will be no further delays.”
Goldberg gave a single nod and sat next to Lacey.
Judge McKenna waited until he was seated, then straightened in his chair and addressed the courtroom. “For purposes of today’s hearing, this court is required to consider two things: new evidence and flight risk.” He shook his head. “A mute, terminally ill defendant who can barely walk or speak doesn’t present a flight risk.”
“Your Honor.” Belmont rose quickly. “Your Honor, may I?”
“No,” he said. “You may not.”
She stood there, dying a thousand quiet deaths.
“Given the newly presented evidence identifying an alternative suspect,” Judge McKenna continued, “and given the defendant’s medical and psychological condition, bail is granted and set at a hundred thousand dollars.”
The gavel came down loud and clear.
And the courtroom exploded.
Voices rose. People surged to their feet. Somewhere near the front, Goldberg was moving toward the bench while Kara Belmont launched her plea with the judge.
My eyes went to the guards. Both of them were watching me now, as if unsure what to do.
One of the slick lawyers from Goldberg’s team came up to me. He was young and polished with perfectly combed dark hair.
“Let me translate that for you,” he said. “Your daughter goes home with you today. Right now, actually. You can hug her if you want.”
Dylan and I were on our feet at the same time. He helped me limp around the bench, through the noise and the stares, and we wrapped ourselves around Lacey.
The cries that came out of me barely sounded human. Dylan was crying too. His whole body was shaking.
Hugging Lacey felt like hugging branches, and her skin was cold. She also smelled horrible. But it didn’t matter. I loved her more than ever.
“We’ll get you the best treatment,” I sobbed into her shoulder, falling apart. “We’ll take care of you. I promise.”
But her body stayed rigid, her eyes empty.
“Honey,” I said, pulling back just enough to see her face. “Can you hear me? You’re free.”
Nothing.
