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demolecularize. What the hell do you think you’re doing?
Chin Dimple cleared his throat. “I know you saw this more than once this morning. Most of the time we’re dealing with extremely emotional situations and a lot of families in distress. This is going
to happen. Go with it.”
Tucking a loose strand of wavy hair behind her ear, Sloane looked away from Frodo and back at Chin Dimple.
“Your Honor, the defendant has victimized his wife on multiple occasions. If he cannot stop putting his hands on her, it is the State’s job to keep her safe from her abuser. A restraining order is a standard part of the procedure.”
“I didn’t call the police, Judge,” Frodo snapped. “And this is my life, not a checklist for some prosecutor to get through.
He didn’t even do anything.”
Frodo’s pitch went higher as she grew more frantic. Is she going to hit a whistle-tone for her performance? Sloane refused to move a muscle or give her a reaction. She knew payback when she saw it.
“A nosy neighbor misconstrued what she saw. There was arguing, yes, but he didn’t lay a finger on me. There isn’t a single mark on my body. Since he completed the batterers intervention program, Tony learned how to manage his emotions and never again resorted to any violence. Judge,”
Frodo’s voice cracked.
Is she seriously crying? Heat flooded up Sloane’s neck. This is too over the top to work, right?
“We have three children and I work full-time days while Tony works nights. Without him, I have no one to watch our kids. I can’t a ord rent on my own, not to mention that if he doesn’t come home . . . he literally has nowhere to live. We don’t have family. It’s just us in the whole world. Please, Judge. Don’t punish me and his children when he didn’t even break the law,” Frodo finished with a sni e.
“I’m very moved by your words, ma’am,” Chin Dimple said softly as if he’d forgotten that the entire scenario was made up. He turned his attention to Sloane, his face hard and jaw tight. “State, what is your evidence against the defendant?”
Sloane furrowed her brow and glanced down at her notes.
“The neighbor called and said she heard shouting—”
“Did she see or hear the defendant strike the victim?”
“If I can just look at the report,” Sloane replied, willing herself to remain composed as her pulse danced in her neck.
The arrest report was so vague. Apart from the neighbor hearing an argument, and the defendant and victim both denying any physical contact, there was nothing. “He has a history of domestic—”
“Counsel, I know you’re not making an argument about his propensity to be violent, are you? Because if we were all suddenly presumed guilty because of past acts, I’d forever be a disorderly Spring Breaker committing drunk and disorderly violations in 1980s Daytona Beach. Is that what I look like to you?” Chin Dimple’s expression didn’t ease even as the rest of the room laughed at his joke.
Sloane gripped the sides of the podium so hard she lost feeling in her fingers. “With all due respect, Your Honor.
This is a bond hearing, not a probable cause hearing. We’re only here to determine appropriate conditions for release pending trial.”
For the second Chin Dimple remained silent, Sloane thought she’d won. Then he spoke. “Well, counsel, guess what? Defense counsel has just asked for a probable cause hearing. What other evidence do you have?”
“The State still needs time to investigate the case. The o ense occurred yesterday. We can’t be expected to be ready for trial,” Sloane countered, still in disbelief that the simple exercise had gone so far o the rails.
“If this is all you have, then not only am I releasing him on his own recognizance without any conditions, but I’m also dismissing the charges,” he announced, pretending to write out an order.
The room was shrinking and growing impossibly hot as Sloane tried to think. “Your Honor, you can’t do that. You can release him on his own recognizance of course, but you can’t dismiss the charges. Not at this juncture,” Sloane replied, trying to remember what she’d learned in criminal procedure class. She was almost positive this was improper, but she couldn’t recall the rules.
“Then I guess you can appeal me, counsel. Next case!”
Enraged, Sloane turned on her heels and stalked back to her seat. As Chin Dimple conducted a postmortem on their skit, all Sloane could hear was the ringing in her ears. She was far too angry to pay attention. It was taking every ounce of self-control not to tear Frodo a new one for going so far out of line.
When she’d mentally exhausted herself and someone else was standing at the podium doing the exercise, Sloane deigned a glance at Frodo. With the fire churning in her being, she willed Frodo to look at her. Finally feeling Sloane’s eyes boring a hole into the side of her head, Frodo turned her attention to the side.
Sloane’s jaw twitched as a new wave or rage crested in her chest. “You’re going to regret that,” she mouthed silently.
