Chapter Ten
CHAPTER TEN
Eight days after Niko’s death, I’m brought before the court on the charge of second-degree involuntary manslaughter due to operating a motor vehicle while under the influence of alcohol and a controlled substance.
Because I plead guilty, there will be no trial.
A probation officer will be assigned to research and write a presentence investigation report, partly based on his or her assessment of my degree of remorse and the sincerity of my resolve to rehabilitate myself.
I will be sentenced at a future date. “Could be several weeks from now,” Attorney Dixon explains.
Where I will spend those weeks—in or out of jail—is the judge’s decision, to be made on the day I’m arraigned.
Rachel Dixon makes the case before Superior Court Judge Vincent Pelto that, prior to sentencing, I should remain out of jail on a bond-free Promise to Appear.
“He’s a low flight risk, Your Honor, and has no long list of priors.
He attended his first Alcoholics Anonymous meeting yesterday and plans to continue going daily.
He and the boy’s mother have an appointment with a bereavement counselor in hopes that they can work on things together.
For the time being, Mr. Ledbetter is living at his mother’s residence, but he sees his daughter every day and his stabilizing presence is helping the child cope with the loss of her twin brother.
In addition, Mr. Ledbetter has filled out applications for stopgap employment and is hoping to find work soon.
The efforts my client already has made to rehabilitate himself are impressive and we are confident that, during the next weeks, these efforts can continue if he is not detained in a presentence lockup facility. ”
All of what my lawyer is saying is true, but the judge’s face is unreadable.
Not so the prosecutor’s. Bettina Reitland is smirking.
Dixon and Reitland are probably both in their midforties but, physically, they’re a study in opposites.
Attorney Dixon is short, squat, and pink-haired.
Attorney Reitland is tall and fit. Her sleek black hair falls to her shoulders and her sleeveless black dress shows off some powerful-looking biceps and calves.
As she stands to counter Dixon’s argument, her smirk falls away, replaced by a look of earnest intent.
“That’s an impressive number of mitigating factors, Your Honor,” she begins.
“But as you know, it’s highly unusual for someone who’s been charged with a violent crime to be granted a no-cost bail and released on his own recognizance.
And although the defendant has no long list of priors, there is a previous DUI on his record.
Despite the suspension of his license, who’s to say he won’t drink and drive again and harm or kill someone else? ”
I cringe at the gut shot she’s just landed, but she isn’t done yet.
“Attorney Dixon makes the point that, if prior to his sentencing, he has daily contact with the Ledbetters’ surviving child, this will help her cope with the sudden absence of her twin brother.
That may or may not be so; neither Attorney Dixon nor I have expertise in child psychology.
But let’s keep in mind that little Niko Ledbetter’s ‘absence’ is the result of his father’s negligence while he was drugged and intoxicated. ”
I look over at Emily. Her face is turned away from me, but Betsy is nodding in agreement with Reitland.
“I would also remind the court that applying for jobs is not the same as being hired and working responsibly at them over time. And I can’t help but wonder why, if Mr. Ledbetter is so motivated to find stopgap employment now, he didn’t look for temporary work in the nine months between the time he was laid off and the day he committed the crime for which he’s been charged. ”
Turning to me, Judge Pelto asks whether I want to respond. Dixon attempts to intervene on my behalf, but I say I’d like to answer him. “I was looking for work,” I tell the judge. “But there was nothing in my field.”
“What field is that?” he asks.
“Commercial art. I sent out résumés and went to interviews pretty steadily, but I couldn’t find anything.
Plus, I was the stay-at-home parent for our kids.
When my wife and I were both working, we had daycare for the twins.
Once we were down to one income, we couldn’t afford it anymore, so I took care of the kids.
And when I was out looking for work, my mother-in-law babysat for us. ”
The judge asks what kinds of jobs I’ve filled out applications for since my arrest. “You name it, Your Honor. Third-shift convenience store clerk; warehouse worker at Lowe’s, Home Depot, and Target; packer at the Amazon warehouse; nighttime group home supervisor.
I’ve gotten a couple of callbacks, but I’ve been waiting to follow up because I didn’t know what was going to happen here today.
In terms of, you know, my availability.”
Judge Pelto looks back and forth between me and Reitland.
“So let’s say you do get hired for one of these jobs, Mr. Ledbetter,” he says.
“With your driver’s license revoked, have you thought about how you’ll get back and forth to work?
And for that matter, what about transportation to and from your AA and NA meetings? ”
“Well, if I get a second- or third-shift job, my mother says she can drive me. She works the morning shift at Newport Creamery and gets home by one thirty or two. I can also check out the bus route. Ride a bike if I have to. And in a pinch, there’s Lyft or Uber.
And the AA meeting I went to yesterday is at a church a couple of miles away from where I’m staying.
I can walk there if I can’t get a ride.”
I wipe the sweat off my top lip and wait.
The judge shuffles the papers on his desk.
He seems satisfied with what I just said; I’m optimistic.
So I’m surprised when he renders his decision that I can be released on a Promise to Appear, but only after I’ve posted a $25,000 bond.
He flips through a calendar and schedules my sentencing hearing for July twentieth—eleven weeks from today.
“That’s almost twice the number of weeks we usually set for sentencing, but I want to see how successful you are at keeping up with these efforts you’re beginning to make.
” Turning to the attorneys, he asks, “Does that work for you two?” Dixon checks her calendar and nods.
Reitland says that’s during her vacation.
“Okay, let’s see what else we’ve got,” the judge says. The date is switched to August first.
Later that day, while I wait in a holding cell with a guy muttering to himself, my mother drives to the courthouse and cosigns my bail agreement, surrendering the deed to her trailer as collateral. “Okay, Ledbetter, you’re free to go,” some anonymous sheriff announces.
Driving me back to her place, Mom says, “Emily packed up some of your things and dropped them off. I put them in the spare room. There’s a futon in there so that can be your bedroom for now.
You’ll have to ignore all the dream-catcher materials.
I have a bunch more to do for the crafts show that’s coming up. ”
“How does she seem?” I ask.
“Emily? Pretty brave, I’d say. And sad.”
“Angry?”
She shakes her head. “More like determined she’s going to get through this one way or another.
Stoic, I guess you’d say. She told me some of the other teachers have donated their sick days so she’s taking some time off from work to figure things out.
Which I think will be good for her and Maisie, too. ”
“So what do you think the odds are that she’s going to divorce me?” Mom declines to speculate or give an opinion. “I wish Betsy thought like you,” I tell her. “I’m sure she’s not holding back her opinion.”
“Well, honey, Emily’s going to decide for herself what she needs to do, and whatever that is, I think we’re just going to have to respect that decision.”
“Yeah, well…”
“Oh, and she said to tell you your appointment with that grief counselor is at four o’clock Wednesday, so she can swing by and pick you up at a quarter of.”
“Okay. Maybe that’s a good sign. Plus, she’s letting me see Maisie at the house every afternoon. She says she’ll stick around while I’m there but not, like, supervise the visit. Which would be kind of weird, you know? For Maisie?”
Mom says she thinks that’s a hopeful sign.
“Yeah, maybe. Hey, by the way, thanks.”
She looks over at me. “It’s fine, Corby. I just hope you’re not going to feel too claustrophobic. It’s a small room, and with all those hoops and feathers and beads and skeins of colored thread in there—”
I tell her I mean because she posted my bail and got me out of there.
“Oh, that. It’s no big deal as long as you’re not planning to skip out of the country on us. I’d hate to end up sleeping on a park bench.”
“It is a big deal. Putting up your home like that? It’s a huge deal and I appreciate it. I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too.” Her eyes brim with tears. “I just wish it didn’t have to be so goddamned hard for you. Indicting you for a crime when it was an accident ?”
“Yeah, but Mom—”
“I’m not saying you were faultless, but what good would it do to send you to prison?
I’d like to know how many other people in that courtroom today have driven drunk or stoned and gotten away with it, including that holier-than-thou prosecutor.
The way she was scoffing at the efforts you’ve made was infuriating. ”
“That’s her job, Mom. Like it or not.”
“Okay, fine, do your job then,” she huffs. “But lose the attitude, lady.”
I can’t help but smile. “Yeah, Reitland. You better watch out now that you’ve pissed off Mama Bear.”
“Damn right,” she says. “She better not come in for breakfast some morning and get one of my tables. She might end up with eggs in her lap.”