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Sutter watched as Saoirse was brought into the courtroom.
The courthouse was in the same building as the police station. Sutter had come to hate the shiny new Justice Center with a passion over the past eighteen hours. He’d spent much of that time contemplating burning the place down, preferably with the chief of police and county attorney still inside it.
Saoirse looked pale under her tan, with deep hollows beneath her eyes, cheekbones, and the delicate line of her collarbone. Her hair hung in dull black strings against her cheeks. But she smiled when she walked in beside a uniformed cop and saw Sutter sitting in the courtroom’s gallery.
Jared Stark, the rottweiler/tiger/shark hybrid, rose from one of the two tables at the front of the courtroom, past a low, wooden barrier that a uniformed clerk had informed Sutter he couldn’t pass when he was allowed in. The clerk now sat at a desk to the right of the judge’s empty bench. When the police officer walked Saoirse to the wooden barrier and opened the gate, the clerk snapped, “Parties and counsel only past the bar, Officer Clifton.”
The police officer scowled at the clerk but stepped back and held the gate open for Saoirse. Sutter was glad to see she wasn’t handcuffed. He’d have had to strangle his mother if she had been. She wasn’t wearing an orange prison jumpsuit, either. What looked like medical scrubs hung off her, incongruous with her stained deck shoes.
The criminal lawyer, Stark, gently shook Saoirse’s hand and showed her to a seat at the table. At the opposing table, a man with a long, black ponytail hanging down the back of his summer-weight, blue suit shuffled papers and avoided looking at Stark or Saoirse.
“Parties are here,” the clerk said into a small microphone sticking up from the edge of his desk.
As everyone waited for the judge, the back door of the courtroom opened again and three men entered. One was Derek, another was an older man with gray curls, both men wearing black Stetsons. The third was a heavyset, younger man, wearing a lanyard that said “Press,” his face shiny with sweat as he dropped into one of the benches at the back and took out a pad of paper.
The older man strode up to where Sutter was sitting and nodded. “Mind if we join you?”
Sutter slid over on the bench to give the men room.
“Hats off in the courtroom, gentlemen,” the clerk said, but he didn’t sound half as aggravated as he had when speaking to the police officer.
“Pardon, Jim,” the man said, removing his Stetson and placing it on his lap as Derek did the same.
“Sutter, this is Doctor Ned Carter. He’s been taking care of Saoirse.”
“Sutter James.” Sutter shook the man’s warm, calloused hand.
“Yes, I know. Saoirse’s Daddy,” the man said softly as if assuring no one else could hear the title. At Sutter’s nod, he spoke a bit louder, “Small town. Hasn’t had this much to gossip about since last summer when our county attorney got the sheriff’s office to bring a court case to disqualify a political rival. Nearly scuppered his reelection. Surprising he’d be willing to risk another abuse of authority investigation. Whatever your mother paid him must have made it worthwhile.”
Sutter knew exactly how those cartoon characters felt when steam came out of their ears.
“Need me to take your blood pressure, son?” the doctor asked.
Sutter was grinding his teeth too hard to answer, but he shook his head.
The doctor tapped his hat on his knee. “Thing about small towns is, they can be insular and unfriendly to outsiders. I know. My family only moved to this area two generations back and I’m still the ‘new doctor.’ But the other side of that coin is, when communities like Hamilton and Porter’s Corner where I live rally around someone, they really rally. Whatever comes of today, there are people looking out for your girl now. Neither of you are facing this alone.”
Sutter coughed to clear the sudden constriction in his chest. “Thank you.”
The doctor nodded and faced the front of the courtroom as a door behind the judge’s bench opened. A thin man wearing Harry Potter-round glasses and black robes walked through and sat down at the bench.
“All rise for the Honorable Jonathan Pike presiding,” the clerk intoned.
There was a shuffle as everyone stood.
“Be seated,” Judge Pike said. After everyone took their seats, he continued, “I’ve received the writ and read the county attorney’s response. I also have an emergency application for a warrant for the search of the abode and any vehicles of Saoirse Fay that I’ll decide at the same time. I’ll let the applicant speak first. Mr. Stark, do you have anything to add to your papers?”
Jared rose from behind the table. “Your Honor, if you’d be willing to consider evidence at this hearing, I’d like to call Doctor Ned Carter to the stand.”
The judge flipped through the papers in front of him. “Is this relevant to the points of the county attorney’s response?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Which ones?” the judge asked.
“The county attorney asks this court to hold Miss Fay until the police can conclude their investigation into the allegation that she is under the influence of and trafficking controlled substances through Ravalli County. The basis of this allegation is the medication found on Miss Fay at the time of questioning which is currently undergoing testing. I’ve already pointed out that this medication was taken from Miss Fay before she’d been read her Miranda rights—”
“Yes, Mr. Stark, I’ve read your writ and I understand the fruits of the poison tree doctrine,” the judge interrupted. “I asked if you had anything to add?”
