Cowboy Comes Home. Rachel Lee

Cowboy Comes Home - Rachel  Lee


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sound passed through the courtroom then, a sound of muted dismay. Bridget Lacey looked as if she might cry.

      Judge Williams sat back, a perplexed frown on her face. “You leave me no choice, young lady.”

      Sam Haversham stepped forward. “Your Honor, we have an alternative to propose. Sheriff Tate has offered to take Miss Lacey home to his family in custody so that she won’t need to spend the night in jail.”

      “That’s highly irregular.”

      Francine Williams tapped a pencil on the bench, frowning down at the girl. Finally, she sat forward. “Off the record here.”

      The court reporter’s hands dropped to her lap.

      “Mr. Haversham, I’d like you to consider a grant of immunity here.”

      Anna leaned forward, holding her breath. What was happening?

      Sam stepped forward. “I think I know what you have in mind, Your Honor. I’ll offer immunity.”

      Williams looked over at the young girl. “Miss Lacey, you’ve been offered immunity for any answer you give to the questions I’m about to ask. That means whatever you say is off the record and can’t be used against you in any legal proceeding. Do you understand that?”

      Lorna’s attorney added a quick, whispered explanation. Lorna nodded.

      “Good,” Judge Williams said. “Now, Miss Lacey, are you telling me you want to stay in jail?”

      “Yes.”

      “But why?”

      Lorna lifted her head then, looking straight at the judge, and the anguish in her voice caused Anna’s heart to break. “Because I’m bad! I do bad things! And I’ll keep on doing bad things! I tried to burn down the school! If you give me a chance, I’ll try to burn it down again!”

      When Lorna finished, she dropped her head to the table and sobbed.

      The judge let out a heavy sigh. “I’d like to see counsel in chambers, please.

      Miss Lacey, I’d like you to come, too. And, Sheriff Tate, I think you’re going to need to hear this, as well, if the defense has no objections?”

      Mr. Carlisle hastened once again to his feet. “No objection, Judge. That’s fine.”

      “And, counsel, I imagine her family hired you?”

      “Yes, Judge.”

      “You know where your ethical duties lie here, right?”

      The attorney put his hand on Lorna’s shoulder. “She’s my client, Judge. I made that clear to the family.”

      “Make sure you remember that.

      Let’s go talk this over.”

      Anna had the feeling everyone in the courtroom knew what was coming. The type of thing you didn’t say out loud, in public. The type of thing no one wanted to hear about someone they knew. The kind of thing Anna knew all too well.

      As soon as the group had disappeared into the judge’s chambers, Al Lacey rose and walked from the courtroom. He looked at no one as he left. Anna felt her stomach turn over in revulsion as she watched him go. Bridget followed a few moments later, her face set like stone.

      Dan came to sit with Anna. “I’m praying I’m wrong, but the handwriting is about six feet high on the wall, isn’t it?”

      She nodded, battling a storm tide of emotions that all of this was raising in her. “That poor child,” she managed to say finally. “That poor, poor child.” Long-buried anger simmered in her stomach, making it hurt.

      “It could be something else.”

      Anna didn’t even bother to reply. She’d given up on vain hopes a long time ago. “Why didn’t somebody keep him from leaving?”

      “Al? I don’t think they can detain him without some kind of proof. That’s probably why Judge Williams took Nate into chambers with them. If Lorna says anything about what’s going on, Nate will take action.”

      Anna folded her hands tightly together. “I hope she tells the judge. Oh, God, I hope she tells.”

      Dan reached out and gently touched her shoulder. “She might not, Anna. There are an awful lot of people in that room, some of them strangers to her.”

      “I know.” And she did, only too well. Some things just couldn’t be spoken of, no matter how they tore you apart. There were some things just too awful to tell strangers. “If she doesn’t tell them, Dan, I’m going to do everything in my power to find some proof, some evidence. We have to help her!”

      “We could be wrong in our supposition,” he reminded her gently. “The problem might not be her parents at all.”

      She looked him straight in the eye.

      “You don’t really believe that.”

      He compressed his lips. “No, I don’t. But I’m praying as hard as I can that this will be just a juvenile overreaction to something that isn’t so terrible after all. God have mercy on that child if it isn’t.”

      Twenty minutes later everyone traipsed back into the courtroom. The judge settled at the bench and spoke to the court reporter.

      “On the record again, Mrs. Jubilo. All right. I’m denying bond. Lorna Lacey will remain in the custody of the sheriff’s department until trial. Mr. Carlisle, what I said before holds. If Miss Lacey wishes to withdraw her threat at any time, or wishes to confide in you or anyone else the cause for her behavior, the matter of bail will be immediately reopened.”

      “Yes, Judge.”

      “I’m also recommending that Miss Lacey undergo psychological counseling. I realize we don’t have psychologists growing on trees around here. In fact, I believe the only one we have is the school psychologist, and I’m not sure he’d be able to handle this situation. However, Sheriff Tate has kindly agreed to arrange for counseling in Laramie, and for a deputy to take Miss Lacey to appointments once a week. Any objections?”

      None were voiced.

      “Now,” Judge Williams continued, “while it is highly irregular, I’m going to put Miss Lacey in the personal custody of Sheriff Tate. By that I mean that she will spend her days in jail and her nights at the sheriff’s home with his family. This release will be contingent upon Miss Lacey promising to behave while in the sheriff’s custody. No fires, no running away, no nonsense of any kind. Miss Lacey, will you give this court your promise?”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      Anna heaved a huge sigh of relief. She couldn’t think of anything better for Lorna than to be in the custody of a man who had raised six healthy, happy daughters, three of whom were still living at home.

      “Now,” the judge continued, leaning forward, “I’m going to take one more extraordinary step here. From now until this matter is settled, or until Miss Lacey explains her actions to my satisfaction, all of her contacts with any member of her family must and will be supervised by a member of this court or a member of the sheriff’s department. Is that clear?”

      Both lawyers answered that it was, but the judge was more interested in Lorna’s reaction. “Miss Lacey, do you understand what I’ve said? You can’t see your family without someone from the court or the sheriff’s department there. How do you feel about that?”

      Lorna lifted her head and looked right at the judge. “Good,” she said. “Except my sister. Can I see my sister?”

      “How old is she?”

      “Four.”

      The judge hesitated. “Not immediately,” she finally said. “Let’s see how it goes this way first. We wouldn’t want to put your sister in a difficult situation, would we?”

      To


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