Chapter 9
CHAPTER
Rhett
The Present
I SAT UNCOMFORTABLY ON the wooden chair, feeling the heavy weight of Lucinda and her family staring at my back.
The courtroom was too warm, and a light sheen covered everyone’s faces, despite the air conditioning.
“All rise,” the bailiff’s voice called from the front of the courtroom, and I rose to my feet alongside Glynn.
Judge Balfour came out of his chambers and shuffled up the stairs to his bench.
He was a gaunt man with barely a wisp of gray hair on top of his smooth head.
His glasses were an inch thick and his skin was rumpled like a piece of paper.
Glynn had already warned me not to be fooled by his aged appearance.
Judge Balfour was apparently no-nonsense in a way that didn’t bode well for someone used to getting by on his in-laws’ reputation.
“Here ye, here ye, here ye, the Circuit Court of Chadwick County is now in session, the Honorable Judge Balfour presiding.” I glanced over my shoulder, seeking out Lucinda, desperate for a friendly face.
I really wanted to see our daughter—it was the longest we had been apart—but this was not the place for a child.
Lucinda was sitting with her dad. Her mother, Mabel, must have been looking after McKenzie. I doubted she wanted to be anywhere near this courtroom, or me.
Bailey sat between Lucinda and their father. The younger woman met my eyes and gave me a friendly wave.
I waved back, but then Lucinda gave her a loaded look and Bailey turned away.
Lucinda appeared tired. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes, her skin sallow and drawn. I willed her to look at me. As if we could still communicate silently the way we used to. But time, and betrayal, had eroded that intimacy.
Yet the secrets that cleaved us created a bond that had proved impossible to sever.
And of course I loved her. Or at least the memory of how she used to be.
But that love had morphed into something parasitic, feeding off me until there was nothing left.
Finally, as if sensing the weight of my gaze, she looked at me, her expression shuttered.
“It will be okay,” I mouthed. It was a lie, but I was good at that.
She stared at me, making no indication she understood what I had said. Her face was blank and unreadable. It chilled me.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please be seated.” Judge Balfour’s rough voice grated my ears.
I swallowed around the lump in my throat, my body filled with apprehension as I sat back down.
“Good morning and welcome to the fifty-eighth district Circuit Court of Chadwick County. Today is the detention hearing for case number KY2024-40003, Chadwick County vs. Clark.” He looked down at the docket briefly before acknowledging the courtroom again.
“This is to determine whether Mr. Clark should be granted bail or remain in custody during the pretrial period. I’ve read the pretrial assessment completed by PSO Poole as well as the petition put forth by the defense regarding Mr. Clark’s constitutional right to bail. What is the defense’s statement?”
Glynn stood up. “Good morning, Your Honor, and may it please the court, my name is Glynn Walker on behalf of Mr. Clark and the claims against him are ludicrous. The defense believes that Chief Charles Young is grasping at straws as he desperately tries to close a cold case before he retires next year.”
Glynn gave me a quick, smug glance before addressing the judge again.
“As presented fifteen years ago, my client, Mr. Rhett Clark, had an alibi for the night in question, and this has not changed. My client presents no risk to the greater public. He has been an upstanding member of the Fern River community for most of his life. He is a respected teacher. He coaches the girls’ tennis team.
He is the faculty adviser for the debate club.
We have three pages of character testimony from his friends and colleagues that provides a clear picture of the well-regarded man Mr. Clark is. ”
Glynn was all solemn seriousness. “He is a man well-liked by the people of this town. Mr. Clark and his wife live here with their young daughter. Mrs. Clark’s family is here. He is not a flight risk. I request that Mr. Clark be granted bail immediately under his father-in-law’s reconnaissance.”
Judge Balfour’s expression was fierce. “Your petition is noted. And for the record, the court is aware of who your client and his family are. However, this is my courtroom.” He leveled me with his cold gaze. “And Mr. Clark, your name, and your family, only matters for the paperwork.”
Judge Balfour stared at my attorney and me for a few beats longer before directing his attention to the other bench, where a man and woman in almost identical dark blue suits were sitting.
“What do you two have to say about this? I have read your brief, and while it is compelling for trial, given Mr. Clark’s spotless record, as much as it pains me, I’m not seeing why I should deny the request for bail.
I don’t make it a habit of keeping a family man in custody at the taxpayers’ expense; it’s not good for my electoral prospects.
So, unless you can provide anything worth my time, I am ready to make my decision. ”
Both prosecutors stood, but it was the tall man with light gray eyes that spoke.
“Your Honor, Daniel Ranger and Anne Massey here to present the case for the county. While the commonwealth attorney’s office concedes that Mr. Clark has no prior offenses, the nature of this crime, as well as his access to significant funds to aid in his ability to leave the jurisdiction, makes it imperative that he stay in detention. ”
His co-council handed him a piece of paper, which he read before speaking again.
“As stated in the bench brief we submitted to the court, we have video evidence that puts Mr. Clark with the victim on the night of her murder, and an eyewitness to corroborate it. This proves Mr. Clark’s current alibi provided by his wife, Lucinda Herbaugh Clark, was, in fact, fabricated. ”
“I must say, I was very interested in this new evidence,” Judge Balfour said.
“Your Honor, we also have in evidence a bloodied T-shirt belonging to Mr. Clark that contains both his and the victim’s DNA, which he is seen wearing in the phone footage.
The video clearly shows Mr. Clark with the victim engaged in a violent argument that further points to Mr. Clark’s volatile nature. ”
I looked up at Glynn, hoping he would say something, but he stayed silent.
“This, paired with the eyewitness testimony of Mr. Martin Richards, a known associate of Mr. Clark, and our case demonstrates that the accused is responsible for the brutal murder of Jennifer Moore,” Daniel Ranger finished.
Judge Balfour peered at my attorney over the rims of his black-framed glasses. “Mr. Walker, do you have anything to say about all this?”
“Your Honor,” Glynn began with a small laugh, “If I may, this so-called eyewitness testimony is nothing more than the product of a soured friendship and bad blood. My client and Martin Richards were casual acquaintances, nothing more. And Mr. Richards left town rather abruptly after the murder of Miss Moore, which I must say, is highly suspicious.”
Glynn was clearly giving it his all, which I appreciated. “If what he states is true, why did he not provide this information to authorities fifteen years ago? I would argue that this lack of transparency makes his testimony completely unreliable.”
He threw a sideways glance to the prosecution before continuing.
“Your Honor, while new physical evidence, if credible, would certainly be worth exploring in the hope of finding the actual murderer of Miss Moore, it is also circumspect given that it was provided by this same individual who, we will establish, has a personal vendetta against my client. In fact, the evidence itself does not imply murder at all but more a case of a relationship with the deceased, which Mr. Clark has always admitted to. My client acknowledges that he and Miss Moore were engaged in an adulterous affair, which makes the existence of this so-called evidence easily explained.”
While I knew what he was saying could help me, I also knew every word would be a knife to Lucinda’s heart, and her back.
“Your Honor, we strongly feel that it is in the best interest of the public that Mr. Clark be held until the time of his trial. He is being tried for first degree murder. Despite his clean record, this demonstrates the danger he could pose to the community,” Mr. Ranger argued calmly.
The courtroom was silent as Judge Balfour read through the docket in front of him, flipping through the pages and pages of briefs both Glynn and the prosecution had submitted.
He took his time, seeming to carefully consider everything.
Finally, with steepled hands, Judge Balfour gave his ruling.
“After carefully reading all the information submitted to the court, I have decided to grant bail for Mr. Clark.” I heard whispers from the galley behind me.
Mr. Ranger got to his feet. “Your Honor, as stated, we have significant concerns about granting bail to Mr. Clark. If we may—?”
“No, you may not,” the judge cut him off abruptly.
“I am granting bail for Mr. Clark because I do not believe him to be a flight risk, and I have yet to see anything that suggests his release is a concern to the public. However, given the serious nature of the crime, as well as the complexity and involvement of individuals in the greater Chadwick community, I will set bail at five hundred thousand dollars and under the condition that he is on home remand until the time of his trial.”
I heard Lucinda gasp behind me.
Five hundred. Thousand. Dollars.
Even though Glynn had explained that we’d work with the local bondsman and only have to pay 10 percent of the total bail amount, that was still more money than we had in our savings account.