A FEW DAYS ago Callie James was planning a romantic surprise for her boyfriend.
Now she found herself in front of a judge who held Callie’s future in her hands.
She swallowed the lump in her throat that held back the bile churning wildly in her digestive tract. Her folded hands on the defense table were damp as she waited for the judge to speak.
Callie never got into trouble. Sure, she’d received a speeding ticket once and had the occasional library book fine, but that’s as far as it went. She’d never come close to the possibility of jail time.
The judge turned her attention from the papers in front of her to the scattered observers in the courtroom. She cleared her throat and looked over horn-rimmed reading glasses to focus on the prosecution side of the room. “The charge is malicious destruction of property?”
“Yes, Your Honor.” Her now ex-boyfriend, Andrew, who happened to be a Maryland Assistant State’s Attorney, rose from his seat at the prosecution table and straightened his conservative navy-and-white diagonally striped tie, which he wore with his equally conservative navy suit.
“You’re prosecuting the case on your own behalf?” The female judge’s wizened eyes narrowed in disapproval.
“No, Your Honor,” he said quickly and looked down to his right.
A much younger but similarly dressed man seated next to him stood up. “ASA Ross, Your Honor.”
Was this guy even out of law school yet? He had the haircut of a six-year-old and the lanky build of a fourteen-year-old who was wearing his father’s suit.
When the judge smiled at ASA Ross, Callie figured this was it. They were all conspirators in her downfall. They were going to lock her up and throw away the key.
“Harvey Goodman for the defense, Your Honor.” Callie’s lawyer was her financial firm’s house counsel and the only person she could think of to call. Harvey was nearing retirement age and she just hoped he wasn’t out of his league. His expertise was in mergers and acquisitions—he probably hadn’t litigated since law school. Which was likely about the same time he’d bought his suit, whose buttons strained over his middle.
“Thank you, Mr. Goodman. I understand your client rejected the state’s plea agreement?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Andrew interjected, and Harvey nodded.
“Mr. Slater. If you’re not prosecuting the case,” the judge admonished, “then please allow Mr. Ross to speak.”
“Yes, Your Honor. I apologize.” Andrew played the admonished attorney well.
ASA Ross spoke. “The plea was rejected.”
The judge wrinkled her nose as she looked over the papers on her large, wood-paneled desk that placed her a few feet higher than everyone else in the courtroom. “Mr. Slater, you’re claiming Ms. James came into your apartment, lost her temper for no apparent reason, and then threw your Dresden vase—value forty-five hundred dollars—on the floor and left?”
“That’s correct.” Andrew’s tone was sharp but deferential.
“No apparent reason?” The whispered words were out of Callie’s mouth before she could stop them, earning her a stern look and a shush from Harvey.
“You’ll have your chance, Ms. James,” the judge told her then turned to Andrew. “How would you classify your relationship with Ms. James?”
Andrew glanced quickly at Callie before answering. “A romantic one.”
Callie coughed and immediately lowered her head when the judge glared at her.
“Keep quiet,” her lawyer whispered out of the corner of his mouth.
“How long have the two of you been involved?” the judge asked Andrew.
Too long, Callie realized, but hindsight was always twenty-twenty.
“A few months” was Andrew’s answer.
Except that the incident had taken place on their six-month anniversary. The reason Callie had been taking Andrew a romantic dinner when he’d had to work late. Or so he’d said that’s what he was doing.
“Do you have anything else to add?” the judge asked.
“No, Your Honor.” Andrew took his seat.
The judge turned to Harvey and Callie. “Ms. James, you’ve rejected the state’s plea agreement?”
Callie rose, displeased when her voice was shaky. “That’s correct, Your Honor.”
Sounding incredulous, the judge stared straight at Callie. “May I ask why? You do know that if you don’t accept the plea that consists of paying restitution, then you can be subject to not only reimbursement but also a fine of twenty-five hundred dollars and up to three years in prison if found guilty?”
Callie inhaled, straightening her spine. “I understand, Your Honor.” Her lawyer had explained in depth. “I didn’t lose my temper, and I can’t admit to causing damage when I’m not sure I did it. If I did break the vase, then it was accidental and happened because Mr. Slater—” She stared at Andrew, narrowed her gaze, and said calmly, “Because Mr. Slater is a lying ba—”
“Objection!” Andrew was on his feet so fast he nearly toppled over the table in front of him.
The judge banged her gavel at the sudden commotion in the gallery. “Order!” Bang, bang, bang. “Order!”
When everyone quieted, the judge first reprimanded Andrew in a no-nonsense manner. “Your objection is moot, Mr. Slater. This is an arraignment, not a trial. And I’ll remind you for the last time that you’re not the one prosecuting this case.” Her gaze went to ASA Ross.
“Of course, Your Honor.” Andrew had the decency to lower his head in deference before taking his seat.
Then the judge addressed Callie. “Ms. James, please keep your personal opinions to yourself and stick to the facts.”
Callie nodded. “I’m sorry.”
The judge straightened her back and folded her hands on the desk in front of her. “Why don’t you tell me your version of what happened and why you won’t accept the plea agreement?”
As Callie began to explain how she’d been going to surprise Andrew with dinner because he said he’d be working late, the anger rushed through her as if she were reliving it. She unclenched her fists, relaxed her shoulders and blew out a breath, techniques she’d always used successfully to diffuse the first signs of anger.
“So you brought him dinner. Then what?” The judge’s smirk said she didn’t want to hear about some lover’s spat.
“It was our six-month anniversary.” Callie glanced at Andrew. Her confidence got a boost when he colored with embarrassment. “I had a key to his apartment and I didn’t bother knocking