The Pumpkin Muffin Murder (24 page)

Bobby looked at Phyllis and nodded eagerly. She smiled and said, “I’m sure that will be all right.” She drank the last of the coffee from her cup, then told Carolyn, “Now I guess we’d better go and get ready.”

They made it to the courthouse with a little time to spare and found Juliette talking to a slender, dark-haired man in a gray suit just outside the courtroom. Phyllis and Carolyn kept their distance until the conversation was over. The man didn’t seem too happy as he walked away, and Juliette didn’t look pleased, either. She was in her thirties, with chestnut hair pulled back in a conservative style. She wore glasses and carried a briefcase, and her dark green suit over a white blouse, along with her low heels and lack of jewelry except for a watch, marked her as all business. The few times Phyllis had met the woman, Juliette had struck her as being perhaps a little too tightly wound. But when people’s lives and well-being were in her hands, maybe that was a good thing.

Juliette smiled thinly as she nodded to Phyllis and Carolyn. “Ms. Newsom. Ms. Wilbarger. Thank you for coming.”

“We’re on time, aren’t we?” Phyllis asked.

“Yes, court won’t be in session for another ten minutes or so. That was the district attorney I was just talking to.”

“I thought I recognized him. Is it too much to hope that you were able to make a deal regarding bail for Dana?”

“I’m afraid so.” Juliette shook her head. “He’s going to ask that she be denied bail.”

“On what grounds?” Carolyn asked. “Dana’s certainly no danger to the community.”

“He’s going to argue that the method used to kill Logan Powell was so ingenious that it demonstrates Dana’s ability to slip out of this jurisdiction if she wants to. In other words, he’s going to say that she’s a flight risk.”

Carolyn snorted. “That’s absurd. Her job and all her friends are here. She’s not going anywhere.”

“The school district isn’t going to allow anyone who’s charged with a felony to teach elementary children, certainly not when that felony is murder,” Juliette said. “So she won’t have a job until her name is cleared. And friends won’t count for as much as family would have with the judge, I’m afraid. Still, we’ll play the cards we’re dealt. I think there’s a good chance that the judge will see things our way. It’ll be up to his discretion, though.”

“If you need to call on us as character witnesses, feel free,” Phyllis said. “That’s why we’re here, to help Dana in any way we can.”

Juliette suddenly cocked her head slightly to the side, as if an idea had just come to her. “If you mean that, I may know of a way,” she said.

“Whatever it takes,” Phyllis said. “What did you have in mind?”

Before Juliette could explain, though, the district attorney walked back past them, opened the door of the courtroom, and went in. “You’ll see,” Juliette said to Phyllis. “Right now, it’s time to get started.”

P
hyllis had never liked being in a courtroom. They were intimidating by their very nature. Things happened there that could determine the course of a person’s life from that point on. The atmosphere was often solemn and a little scary, sort of like a hospital.

Yet the people who worked there every day, the judges and bailiffs and clerks, often joked around with each other, trading quips and stories about their personal lives. Phyllis understood that—the surroundings were commonplace to them—but it still struck her as odd and somewhat unsettling.

There was no levity going on in this courtroom today. The district attorney sat at one of the tables in front of the judge’s bench and talked with a severe-looking woman who was probably an assistant DA. Juliette Yorke waited alone at the other table. Quite a few people sat on the benches behind the railing that separated the rest of the courtroom from the tables and the judge’s bench. As Phyllis and Carolyn found a place to sit, Phyllis thought that court was sort of like church, too, with those pewlike benches. Nobody was going to pass the plate, though.

Phyllis knew that several dozen cases might be arraigned this morning, most of them minor offenses ranging from petty theft to possession of drugs. Normally a case might have to wait several weeks or even longer after the arrest before arraignment took place, which was why bail hearings usually preceded arraignments. Because of the seriousness of the charge against Dana, Juliette Yorke must have been able to get the case added to the docket on short notice, Phyllis thought.

She wouldn’t have known so much about court procedures if she hadn’t heard Mike talking about various cases. Also, she had been called as a prosecution witness on several occasions when her efforts had helped uncover the identity of a murderer.

Looking around at the other people on the benches, Phyllis saw that many of them looked worried, and her heart went out to them. Some of them were there with relatives while others were defendants themselves. Some might well deserve whatever course the legal system took, but others had simply made mistakes, maybe never even been in trouble with the law until they did something without thinking. Phyllis could feel sorry for them and hope that their lives worked out better from now on.

After a few more minutes, the bailiff called out, “All rise.” Everyone stood as the judge came in through a door to the left of his bench. He was a short, fair-haired man in late middle age. Phyllis didn’t know him. He took his place behind the bench and leaned forward to say into the microphone in front of him, “Please be seated.” With a rustle of clothes and feet, the spectators followed that instruction.

The lawyers remained on their feet, though, and the district attorney half turned to motion toward the bailiff, who nodded and opened a door behind the court clerk’s desk. Phyllis’s breath hissed between her teeth as a couple of uniformed female officers brought Dana into the courtroom and escorted her over to the table where Juliette Yorke waited for her.

Dana was still dressed in her own clothes. They were starting to look pretty wrinkled and shapeless by now. Phyllis couldn’t tell if she was wearing any makeup, but she had brushed her hair. That didn’t really make her look much better, though. Her face was still stunned and haggard. She wore handcuffs, and a chain attached them to a ring on a broad leather belt strapped around her waist, so she couldn’t raise her arms very high. At least she didn’t have shackles on her ankles, Phyllis noted.

The court clerk read the case number and the charge. This was the most high-profile case, so they were getting it out of the way first. The judge looked over the paperwork the bailiff had given him and then asked, “How does the defendant plead?”

“Not guilty, Your Honor,” Juliette Yorke said.

The judge looked directly at Dana, who stood next to Juliette, and said, “Is that a true plea, Ms. Powell?”

“It is, Your Honor,” Dana said. Phyllis could tell from the rote sound of her voice that Juliette had coached her on what to expect and how to respond.

The judge picked up a pen and marked off something on a document. The mundane nature of the proceedings when it was Dana’s life at stake bothered Phyllis. She knew that was the nature of the system, though. The courts had to have their routines and paperwork in order to function.

“All right, you’re being bound over for a grand jury hearing,” the judge went on. “The grand jury will decide whether there’s enough evidence against you to warrant an indictment on the charge of murder in the first degree. Do you understand that, Ms. Powell?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Dana said, again sounding like she was reciting a poem learned in school.

“In the matter of bail, Your Honor—,” Juliette began.

The district attorney said, “The state requests that bail be denied, Your Honor.”

The judge looked at him and said, “You’re aware that bail is usually granted these days even in murder cases, Mr. Sullivan?”

“With all due respect, not in high-profile murder cases where the defendant poses a flight risk, Your Honor.”

“Ms. Powell poses absolutely
no
flight risk, Your Honor,” Juliette said. “She pled not guilty because she is innocent of this charge and is eager to clear her name so that the police can go about discovering who actually killed her husband.”

“Your Honor, the state believes that Ms. Powell committed this crime; otherwise, the charge would not have been brought against her.”

“Presumption of innocence,” Juliette snapped as she glanced over at the district attorney.

“You’ve read the charge, Your Honor,” Sullivan insisted. “Logan Powell was killed in a particularly devious and cruel fashion, indicating that his murderer possesses a high degree of intelligence and no moral compunctions whatsoever. We believe that if Ms. Powell is freed from custody, no matter what precautions are taken, she will find a way to circumvent them and will flee from justice.”

“Your Honor, Ms. Powell is a highly respected educator and member of the community,” Juliette argued. “She has one of the most important jobs to be found anywhere, that of teaching our children. And I might add, the community has trusted Ms. Powell with those children for many years. Not only that, but she has many, many friends, including Mrs. Phyllis Newsom and Mrs. Carolyn Wilbarger, who are here in court today to testify on her behalf if needed.”

The district attorney said, “I’m sure Ms. Powell can find many people who will tell you what a fine person she is, Your Honor. That doesn’t change the facts of the case.”

“Mrs. Newsom is prepared to do more than testify on my client’s behalf,” Juliette said. She glanced back at Phyllis, who had an idea of what was coming next. It had occurred to her while Juliette and District Attorney Sullivan were arguing back and forth. She gave Juliette a tiny nod now to indicate that it was all right. Juliette faced the judge again and went on, “Mrs. Newsom is willing to open her own home to Ms. Powell and allow her to stay there until the case comes to trial.”

Next to Phyllis, Carolyn made a little noise of surprise. She leaned over and whispered, “Really?”

Phyllis nodded.

“That’s a good idea—,” Carolyn started to say.

The judge silenced her by saying, “Order, please.” He looked past the attorneys’ tables and gazed directly at Phyllis. “Mrs. Newsom, would you stand up, please?”

Phyllis got to her feet and stood there clutching her purse.

“Mrs. Newsom, is this true? If Ms. Powell is released on bail, you’d like for her to come stay with you?”

“That’s right, Your Honor,” Phyllis said. “I have a spare bedroom in my house.”

That was true. The extra room had sat there empty ever since Mattie Harris had passed away. Phyllis hadn’t been able to bring herself to rent it out again. Besides, she and Carolyn and Eve and Sam all got along so well, she hesitated to bring in someone else who might upset the dynamics of the house.

This would only be temporary, though, so Phyllis thought it would be all right. She glanced at Carolyn, who nodded to show that she thought it was all right, too.

The district attorney looked annoyed. Obviously, he hadn’t anticipated this ploy from Juliette. He said, “Your Honor, the state has the highest admiration and respect for Mrs. Newsom. No one has forgotten how helpful she’s been to the authorities in the past. But that doesn’t mean she’s qualified to take responsibility for a dangerous prisoner.”

“Ms. Powell is not dangerous, Your Honor,” Juliette insisted. “In fact, she’s as much a victim here as her husband. Whoever killed him has struck at her, too. I respectfully ask that this tragedy not be compounded by forcing her to remain in custody until her case comes before the grand jury.”

The judge steepled his fingers together in front of him. “If I grant bail now, and then the grand jury indicts your client, Ms. Yorke, I may have to consider revoking it.”

Juliette nodded. “I understand that, Your Honor.”

“All right, then.” The judge reached for his gavel. “I hereby grant bail to the defendant in the amount of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

Sullivan’s expression was bleak and angry, but he responded quickly to the ruling. “Your Honor, the state requests that a higher amount be set, not less than one million dollars.”

“I’ve made my decision, Mr. Sullivan,” the judge said. “We’ll move along to the next case.”

Juliette glanced down at the papers spread out on the table in front of her. From where Phyllis was sitting, she couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw a smile play briefly across Juliette’s face. Then Juliette turned to Dana and spoke to her for a moment in a low voice. The officers who had brought Dana into the courtroom came over and took charge of her again, escorting her back out the way she had come in. Juliette gathered up her papers, placed them in her briefcase, snapped the case closed, and came through the gate in the railing to join Phyllis and Carolyn. She inclined her head toward the lobby outside the courtroom, indicating that they would talk there.