Chapter 45
Dylan
Dylan walked up to the door of courtroom six. Even knowing it was a little under a half hour before court would be in session, he still gave the doors an experimental shake, testing to see if a deputy had come by to unlock them.
The doors didn’t budge, rattling under his grip.
Frustrated, he spun and sat on the bench along the wall opposite the doors. He clasped his hands together in front of him and leaned over his thighs, staring down at the floor. His anxiety was sending him into a spiral.
He’d lost his dad and then Jace in combat. He couldn’t lose someone else important to him. Kelsi had to be okay. If she wasn’t . . .
Lost in his tumultuous thoughts, it took him a moment to register his phone ringing from his suit jacket. Quickly, he pulled it out and answered.
“Dylan.” Kole’s voice on the other end of the line was serious. He said they’d found her phone and Dina’s croissant in the parking lot, as well as seen security footage of her being kidnapped.
Dylan had suspected that, but hearing it still caused his breath to stutter out of him as if he had been kicked in the gut.
“Know any blond cops that Kelsi would have trusted enough to follow to his car?”
Dylan’s gut clenched tight, rage boiling up inside him as he pictured Sheridan. For a tiny moment, he couldn’t help but feel insecure—had she left him again for another man? No, he told himself, she wouldn’t do that to you.
“Mike Sheridan,” he said, his voice tense with anger. “A deputy in Oyster Shoals. She would have trusted him, I think. Someone from their department was supposed to bring the evidence this morning. It could have been him.”
“That motherfucker!” Abby exclaimed in the background. “No good, lying sack of shit. I should’ve known it would be that limp-dick bastard—”
“Okay,” Kole cut into Abby’s tirade. “I’m gonna run with this lead. We got the plates on his car from the security footage, so I’ll have the patrol on the lookout for it, but tell them to keep it off the scanner since he’s a cop.”
“I want to see if I can find any place in town he may have taken her to in the meantime,” Abby said.
“All right, guys,” Dylan addressed the pair. “Don’t count out McGuinness either. He’s involved in this somehow.”
They told him they would look into him, too, and hung up so they could get started on the search.
Kole and Abby were on top of finding Kelsi, but he hated that he was stuck behind.
Dylan sent a quick message off to Boone, who had made it to Oyster Shoals and was with their moms. He gave him a rundown of their situation and asked that he keep a tighter eye on the women in case they didn’t stop with abducting Kelsi.
Boone confirmed he had it under control and wished him luck in getting his girl back.
Dylan spared a minute to collect his thoughts, then headed toward the judge’s chambers. He rang the intercom, waited until a judicial assistant answered, and asked to speak to Judge Bolton. He stressed how important it was, stating he needed to speak to her immediately, before the trial.
The assistant didn’t reply for a few moments, checking with the judge to see if the private conversation without opposing counsel was allowed.
Rather than speaking to him over the intercom again, she appeared at the door a few minutes later, allowing him to enter, and led him to Judge Bolton’s office.
The judge lifted her head when they stopped at her doorway and nodded at the assistant in acknowledgment.
“Thank you, Eileen. Close the door behind you, please.” She eyed Dylan with suspicion as he shut the door behind him.
“I’m not entirely sure that this conversation should be happening right now, Mr. Holloway. Not without Mr. Carver present.”
“Yes, Your Honor. I understand this is unorthodox. I’m willing to record this conversation if you’d like, so that it could be presented on the record if need be.”
It was a Hail Mary. He knew that it was impermissible for the judge to speak with only one side regarding an active case, but he had no other choice. Not when he thought the defendant was involved in the kidnapping of his cocounsel.
She regarded him coolly for a long, tense moment, before nodding her head. “Okay. I’ll allow it.”
“Thank you.” He sat in the open chair in front of her desk and laid his phone out on the table, opening up the recording app and pressing the record button. “Is this acceptable?” He gestured to the phone between them.
“Yes, it is.” She verbally acknowledged his question for the recording’s benefit.
He took a deep breath before diving in. “I wanted to meet with you off the record this morning, and without Mr. Carver present, because my cocounsel is missing.”
Judge Bolton’s eyebrows lifted, shock evident in her face.
“She’s been kidnapped. I believe that it’s related to this case.”
The judge’s brows slammed back down. “Do you have evidence that the defendant is involved?”
“Not yet,” he hedged. “But it would be too much of a coincidence if he wasn’t. And, taking into account the history of this prosecution, it’s reasonable to assume that McGuinness would be somehow involved. Kelsi’s also been receiving anonymous threats about this case for weeks.”
Judge Bolton rested her hands on her desk, her posture telling him she was taking this as seriously as he was. “Why haven’t you gone to the police about this?”
“Kelsi was worried about retaliation if word got back to whoever was threatening her, so she couldn’t go to them. Now, this is the first thing that has happened in a separate jurisdiction, but I’m worried that if we get the police involved now, he’ll hurt her before we can find her.”
“What are you asking me for here, Mr. Holloway?”
“A day. Just a day to try to find Kelsi and bring her back safely, without going to the police. If this is related to the trial today, whoever took her must’ve had a purpose behind it.
If we go forward without her, that may play right into their hands.
And I don’t want him to escape the judicial process if we can avoid it.
I would also rather not have Mr. Carver informed of this for now.
I don’t know if he’s involved or not, and I don’t want to risk him telling McGuinness that I suspect him.
If he’s involved and is tipped off, there’s no telling what he might do to her.
” He knew he was asking a lot of the judge.
First in asking her to make concessions for him, and second in asking her to conceal this from the defense attorney.
She was silent for a long moment, staring at him and absorbing his expressions, most likely examining every possible situation and outcome that could happen here. The longer the silence lasted, the more violently his stomach churned, acid burning as he waited to hear her verdict.
Finally, she flicked her eyes to the phone still indicating it was recording and said, “Okay. I will delay the proceeding, but I can only give you until after lunch. If you haven’t found her by then, you will have to either proceed with the jury trial yourself or I will declare a mistrial.”
He nodded, knowing it was the best she could offer and that it was at least a boon of some time to join in the search for her. “Thank you.” He held her eyes, letting her see his gratitude.
Judge Bolton leaned over the desk and tapped off the recording. “She means a lot more to you than a coworker, doesn’t she?” she asked this quietly, assessing him.
“She means everything to me,” he agreed, before rising to his feet.
“I will have to convene the court at nine thirty still, but I will explain to everyone that we will break and resume after lunch. The jury will be sequestered until we return.”
He thanked her again and walked out of her office.
Back in the hallway, he sat impatiently, eyes locked on the doors to courtroom six.
When the deputy came and opened the doors, he was the first to walk in.
He headed straight for the prosecutor’s table, laying his briefcase on the floor next to it while taking a seat.
His leg bounced as other attorneys and parties filtered in through the doors.
McGuinness was one of the last to walk in, right at the docket call at nine thirty. He swaggered down the aisle between the benches as if his shit doesn’t stink. He sat down on a bench on the defense counsel’s side of the courtroom and sent a smirk at Dylan when they made eye contact.
Dylan glared back, nostrils flaring as he fought every instinct and remained seated, when all he wanted to do was storm over and force the man to tell him where Kelsi was.
The deputy’s voice rang out through the courtroom, distracting him. “All rise, this court is now in session. The Honorable Judge Bolton is presiding.”
The courtroom filled with the sounds of rustling clothes and creaking wooden benches as everyone in the gallery stood, waiting for Judge Bolton to take her seat at the head of the room.
“You may be seated,” she said, staring out at everyone. “First order of business, can counsel for Commonwealth v. McGuinness please approach the bench?”
Dylan and Mr. Carver both stood once more and walked toward the judge. Mr. Carver gestured behind them to McGuinness, who rose from the pew in the gallery and walked to the defense counsel’s table.
As they reached Judge Bolton, she addressed both attorneys.
“Unfortunately, the court reporter assigned to this matter has been delayed. My assistant called the other ones who typically operate out of this court, and all are occupied on other matters and won’t be able to appear in this courtroom until the afternoon.
That being said, I’m going to delay calling this matter until after lunch.
We will reconvene then, when hopefully a court reporter is available to transcribe these proceedings. ”
If Dylan hadn’t known of their conversation this morning, he wouldn’t have suspected that this was all a ruse.
Mr. Carver was unimpressed, however. “Are you serious? My client has been dragged around by the judicial system for months now. He should not have to wait another minute for his case to be heard. This is a clear and blatant violation of my client’s right to a speedy trial,” he fumed.
Judge Bolton, to her credit, was unfazed by him. “Sit down, Mr. Carver, and wait for your case to be called this afternoon. It’s unfortunate, but a few hours are not going to prejudice your client.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” he gritted out through his teeth.
He turned and stalked to the table where McGuinness was lounging with seemingly no worries in the world. He stood and followed his attorney from the courtroom, but not without giving Dylan another one of those smirks over his shoulder.
Dylan turned back to Judge Bolton. “Thank you, Your Honor.” He said this with much more sincerity than Mr. Carver had.
He grabbed his briefcase from the floor beside the prosecution’s table on his way out of the courtroom. A piece of paper stuck out of the top. It was folded over once, and he opened it to find a typed note. It read:
I have your girl. No cops, or she dies. Trust me, I’ll know if you do. Get the defendant acquitted. Pleasure doing business.
It was unsigned, but Dylan didn’t need a signature to know it was McGuinness.
He wanted to crumple the note in his fist and spied the man himself disappearing toward the escalators that led to the ground floor, leaving his attorney behind.
Tom had followed him out of the courtroom, and Dylan turned to him quickly.
“I’m going to follow him. Can you do me a favor and grab the witnesses and let them know that the court will reconvene at one thirty?
And give this to Judge Bolton?” Dylan handed him the note while already walking away, not waiting for Tom’s reply.
“Of course, man. Good luck.”
Knowing that at least one issue was being handled by someone else, Dylan quickly followed after McGuinness, hoping to spot him in the parking lot and to have not lost his trail already.
Luck was on his side because he immediately found McGuinness’s flashy silver Porsche.
Dylan sprinted toward his car and started the engine, backing out of his spot while jamming his seat belt on, and took off in McGuinness’s direction.
When he caught sight of the Porsche ahead of him in traffic, he maintained an innocent distance.
They came up to the next intersection, a car in between them, and the light turned yellow.
McGuinness was the car first approaching the intersection, and his brake lights flared on as he slowed for the light.
Right before it flicked to red, however, he sped up and cleared the intersection.
The car between them stopped completely, and Dylan was boxed in, prevented from following.
He slammed his hand down on the steering wheel in frustration, yelling, “Damn it!” The woman in the car next to him quickly rolled up her windows.
At that moment, his cell phone rang. Kole’s name flashed on his screen.
Dylan answered. “Have you found her yet?”
“Nothing confirmed yet, man, but we think so.” Kole spoke rapidly.
“She’s amazing. I don’t know how she did it so fast, but Abby found a property owned by a shell company that’s owned by a different company, that lists its owner as McGuinness.
It’s out in Pungo on a couple acres and it looks like there’s been no activity there for a while.
We’re gonna head there now and check the area out.
I’ll let you know if we find anything, okay? ”
Dylan checked the cross streets of the intersection he was at. “I tried following him from the courthouse and he was heading in that direction.” The light turned green and the cars started moving once more. “Send me the address and I’ll meet you. I have until after lunch to help find her.”
Kole rattled off the address and Dylan plugged it into his phone quickly, one eye on the road.
“Okay, I’m close. I’ll park out of the way and meet you when you both get here.”
“All right, we’re five minutes out. See you soon.”
They hung up and Dylan drove until he reached the property. All he could see was a long gravel road disappearing into a copse of trees. He passed it and turned off onto a nondescript dirt road a quarter mile further, parking to wait for Kole and Abby.