Trial by Fire

by Nancy Taylor Rosenberg

  Stella paused as she sensed a presence behind her. She smiled faintly as Sam seated himself in the front row. With her eyes, she thanked him for caring enough to get on a plane and fly to her side. Growman had not been able to free himself from his responsibilities, and Mario had never appeared at the jail. For all Stella knew, her brother had left town and her suspicions that he had shot Randall could be valid. She had tried to call him five or six times and no one had picked up his phone.

  “Are you finished, Counselor?” Judge Maddox said.

  “No, Your Honor,” Stella answered, quickly refocusing her attention. “I’m virtually being held in solitary confinement due to no fault of my own. I also direct the court to consider that I have no prior criminal convictions to support a denial of bail. Up until today, I have been a contributing member of society, a defender of the very system where I now stand accused.”

  “Your Honor,” Holly said, waving her arm toward Stella, “Ms. Cataloni is being housed in a segregated cell for her own protection. If she doesn’t like it, then she can return to the main jail population.”

  Judge Maddox toyed with her pen as she thought over her next statement. “Ms. Cataloni has presented what I view as a valid argument,” she said finally. “Returning this particular prisoner to the main jail population could put her in serious jeopardy. As it is clearly the responsibility of the bench as well as the county to keep those under our jurisdiction free from harm while they are incarcerated, the court will not allow Ms. Cataloni to be exposed to this type of danger.”

  While Holly grimaced and leaned down to confer with Frank Minor, Judge Maddox continued, “Is that all you wish to say, Ms. Cataloni?”

  “No, Your Honor,” Stella said, her legs so weak that she leaned against her chair to steady herself. “I beg the court to release me on my own recognizance, and I further feel that the court has no alternative but to honor my request.”

  The courtroom fell silent as the judge pondered her decision. She read through a few pages of the arrest report, going over the details of the crime and what evidence the state possessed. Then she looked up. “The defendant’s request for O.R. is denied,” she said. “Bail is set at fifty thousand dollars in case H378941, and fifty thousand in case H345672.” Then she peered down at Stella. “There will be no ten percent privileges, Ms. Cataloni, just so we understand each other. I’m setting bail at a moderate sum based on your lack of criminal history and your standing in the community, but I want the full amount before you walk out the door.”

  Holly shot to her feet. “The People object, Your Honor. If you feel you must set bail, at least set it at an appropriate amount, an amount that reflects the seriousness of these crimes. To set it at only a hundred thousand is unconscionable.” Frank Minor yanked on her sleeve, and Holly saw the dark look on Judge Maddox’s face. Calling a judge’s ruling unconscionable in an open courtroom represented a serious breach of protocol. When she resumed speaking, Holly’s annoyance was in check, and her tone formal. “Your Honor, allow me to respectfully point out that these are murder charges. Not one, but three innocent lives have been lost. As to Mr. Randall, he was in my office only a few days ago. I was present when the defendant threatened to kill him. If I was out of line earlier, I beg the court’s forgiveness, but I’m gravely concerned about this woman’s release and the risk it might pose to other witnesses.”

  “I’m more than aware that these are homicides, Ms. Oppenheimer,” the judge said, glowering at her. “Bail will remain as previously set.”

  Even though Stella had no idea how she would come up with the money, her spirits soared as she watched Holly and her co-counsel whisper to each other. She had won an important victory. She prayed it was the first of many.

  The judge jotted down her notes in the file and then handed it over to the clerk. “The preliminary hearing on the arson and homicide counts will be held at nine o’clock on August 20 in this courtroom. When we convene at that time, we’ll select a date for the preliminary hearing on the Randall homicide. Is that agreeable to both parties?” Once Holly and Stella concurred, Judge Maddox looked out over the room and tapped her gavel. “This court is adjourned.”

  Until she came up with a hundred thousand dollars, Stella would be returned to the jail. As she was escorted out of the courtroom, she looked over at Sam, desperation in her eyes. “Don’t worry, Stella,” he called. “I’ll call Brad again. We’ll work something out.”

  Once she was back in her cell, Stella pulled out the yellow notepad she had purchased from the cart that came around each day, and began listing all the particulars she wanted to relay to Brenda Anderson. She had no choice now but to turn her attention to the old fire, since it would be the first crime she would have to defend herself against. Propped up on her cot, her head braced against the cracked plaster, she was writing when she heard a key turn in the lock. Looking up, she saw a woman’s face peering in through the small glass window in the door.

  A female jailer, this one with a gravelly voice and a face ugly enough to stop traffic, opened the door and stuck her head inside. “Come with me,” she said.

  “Where?” Stella said without looking up, adding the letters KAL to her list. Her top priority was to rule out any possibility of Mario being involved. She wanted Brenda to check on Mario’s stewardess and see if she had still been in town during the hours Randall was murdered. She needed to know if the woman could substantiate her brother’s whereabouts. She was fairly certain Mario had told her the woman flew for Korean Airlines. But she also realized she needed to file a discovery motion in order to find out what kind of evidence the prosecution possessed. She quickly added that to her list, then tossed the notebook down. “What do you want? Do I have a visitor?”

  “Yeah,” the jailer said. “Hurry up. I don’t have all day here.”

  Stella followed her to one of the glass-partitioned cubicles. Her jaw dropped when she saw Brad. “Why are you here?” she asked, the phone pressed to her ear. “Were you in the courtroom?”

  “I told you not to go poking around in the past,” he told her, scowling. “See what you’ve done, Stella? You’ve stirred up a hornet’s nest. You just couldn’t let things alone, could you?”

  Stella was tempted to hurl the phone at the window. Instead she said, “Is that why you flew down here? Just so you could gloat?”

  “No, no,” he said, his tone soft and placating now. “Even if you don’t realize it, Stel, I care about you. No matter what happens between us, I’ll always be here for you.”

  “Oh, really?” Stella shot back. “Sam said you told him I could just rot in jail.”

  “Well,” Brad said, his face flushing, “I have to admit I was a little hostile when he called. The guy just rubs me the wrong way, you know, making all these crazy allegations, like he thinks I’m some kind of crook.”

  Stella remained silent.

  “So,” Brad continued, smiling at her, “I had a nice long chat with my attorney this morning. I think I can free up the money you need, but he says I can’t do it until we settle our financial affairs.”

  “What do you mean?” Stella said, jerking her head up. The scent of freedom drifted past her nostrils, and she was willing to do just about anything to make it real.

  Brad removed a stapled stack of papers from his jacket and placed them in the metal bin. “Look,” he said before Stella had retrieved them, “this isn’t my doing, so don’t jump all over me. If I could get my hands on the money any other way, I’d do it and get you out of here. My attorney says it has to be done this way. Weinstein froze all our assets, see, and until these forms are signed, I can’t get my hands on a dime.” He stopped and smirked. “Let me tell you, a hundred big ones is far from small change.”

  Stella read through the paperwork, trying to keep her anger in check. Brad was asking her to sign over everything they owned: all rights to his business, the house, the furnishings, whatever money had been present in their savings accounts, any and all equipment. Stella could keep
her BMW and her personal effects, and that was it. “This is blackmail,” she said, shoving the papers back in the bin.

  “You don’t understand,” Brad said. “The hundred grand I’ve got to put up for your bail was taken into consideration. My lawyer says this is more than fair. He even told me I was being overly generous.” He paused and then added, “Remember, I owned the business before we even met, so that’s mine fair and square.”

  “You didn’t own the house, though,” Stella argued. “Not only that, by law I’m entitled to a percentage of all monies earned in the business during the course of our marriage. Don’t tell me after all these years all you earned was a paltry hundred grand. I know better, Brad. I’m not an idiot.”

  “Hey,” he said, “I came here out of the goodness of my heart, out of the love we once shared. If you want me to leave, I’ll go right now. I just couldn’t stand to see you sit here in jail, but if this is how you—” He replaced the phone and was about to leave when Stella motioned for him to sit back down.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, backtracking. At present, Brad was her only chance to make bail. If it meant she had to kiss his ass to get out of jail, then she would have to do it, and do it well. “Maybe I’m being obstinate, Brad. Hell, maybe I’m even bitter. I mean, you did dump me for another woman.” Her shoulders rose and then fell. “I do appreciate you coming, though. You know, it’s nice to know you still care.”

  “Of course I care,” he said. “You were just a kid when I married you. When you used to ask me why I didn’t want to have children, what did I always tell you?”

  “I was your little girl,” she said, meeting his eyes and then quickly looking away.

  “I tried to give you a good life,” he continued. “I even tried to help raise Mario. I don’t want to cheat you. I’m here to help you. Even if we go our separate ways, I want us to always remain friends.”

  “You did a lot for me, Brad,” Stella said. “I didn’t mean for my job to come between us. I only wanted to make a name for myself, have something I could feel proud of. You had your business, you know. Was I really that bad?”

  “Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “I guess turning fifty a few years back made me a little crazy. I just wanted to kick up my heels before I ended up six feet under, have a few laughs, a little fun. All this career stuff, setting the world on fire, well, that’s fine for you, Stella, but for me, it’s a thing of the past.”

  Stella’s anger flared. Why did he always say the wrong thing? Kick up his heels, huh? Had he really ended their fifteen-year marriage for such a childish and self-serving reason? What? So he could chase girls and prove he was still a desirable man? And he had the balls to ask her to sign over everything they owned so he could have enough money to carry out his plan. Was he going to move his blond bimbo into her house and toss her out on the street? “Give me a pen,” she said, wanting to get it over with before she backed out. “But promise me you’ll post the bail money right away. Can you get it here by tomorrow morning?”

  “As soon as you sign,” Brad said, reaching in his pocket for a pen, ‘Til get the bank to release the funds and wire them straight to the jail. Then I’ll see if I can dig up some more money so you can get yourself a real good attorney, someone with enough smarts to get you out of this mess.”

  Stella picked up the pen and was about to sign the forms when the jailer stepped up behind her. “HI be finished in about five minutes,” she said, glancing through the papers and seeing that her signature was required in several different spots.

  “Well,” the woman said, “if you go with me, you can finish your conversation outside. Your bail’s been posted.”

  Stella looked at Brad and then back to the guard. “You must be mistaken. We’re making arrangements to get my bail posted right now.”

  “I’ve got the release form right here,” the woman said, waving a piece of paper in Stella’s face. “But hey, you want to stick around, be my guest.”

  “Are you certain?” Stella said, dumbfounded. “Who posted my bail?”

  “Don’t say on the form,” the woman said, a bored expression on her face.

  Stella placed the unsigned forms in the bin and passed them back to Brad. “Wait,” he said, “what are you doing? These aren’t signed. You said you were going to sign them. Who put up your bail? Don’t forget, Stella, you’ll need money for your attorney.”

  “I guess I don’t need to sign my life away after all,” Stella said, a smile playing at the corner of her lips.

  Brad sprang to his feet, dropping the phone and yelling through the glass, his hot breath smoking a circle. “You’re making a mistake,” he shouted. “I’m not coming back here again. You just burned your bridges with me, you ungrateful little bitch.”

  “Fuck you,” Stella mouthed. Brad might not be able to hear her through the glass, but she found the moment immensely gratifying. Standing, she let the jailer lead her away.

  It took Stella approximately fifty minutes to be processed for release. She walked out of the jail into a bright afternoon sun, relishing its warmth against her skin. She was about to head down the steps to the street, thinking she would have to call a cab to take her to the airport, when she saw Sam waving at her from a car parked at the curb. Racing down the steps, she leaped into the passenger seat and grabbed him in a bear hug. Her arms were so tight around his neck, he had to pull them off to keep from being strangled. “You posted my bail,” Stella exclaimed. “How can I ever thank you? This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

  Sam smiled. “I’m sure you’ll find a way, Stella. I couldn’t let you stay in that awful place.” He momentarily looked away. The attorney was far from poor, but he wasn’t prone to part with his money, particularly to assist someone he had known only for a short time. He had his son’s future to provide for, and after losing his wife, he always made certain he had money stashed away should anything ever happen to him. All night long, he had anguished, unable to sleep, wanting to disentangle himself from Stella and her problems. When the sun came up, however, he had jumped on the first plane to Houston. Then when the judge had set bail, he’d marched to the jail and promptly paid.

  While Sam sorted through his thoughts, Stella leaned back in the seat and inhaled the fresh air floating in from the window. It was hot and humid, but she didn’t care. She had never smelled anything more wonderful in her life. As she filled her lungs with oxygen and then slowly let it out, she felt a rush of adrenaline. She was filled with joy, overwhelmed with relief. It didn’t matter that her freedom might be short-lived, that depending on how the preliminary hearing turned out, her bail could be revoked and she could be returned to the jail for the remainder of the proceedings. Right now she was free, and the taste of freedom was exhilarating. Stella felt like she was drunk on fine wine. Her stomach purred, her skin tingled, and Sam’s aftershave floated past her smelling lemony and delicious.

  “Let’s go to a hotel,” she said. “We’ll get naked and celebrate my release.”

  “Please, Stella,” Sam said, scowling, “I don’t want you to think that because I posted your bail, you have to grant me sexual favors.”

  “I know that,” Stella said, flicking her wrist at him and smiling. “I’m not doing it for you, anyway, I’m doing it for me.”

  “Oh, really?” he said, smiling back. “How’s that?”

  “The other night,” she said, her tongue flitting over her upper lip, “you played my body like a violin. I never dreamed you were so talented.”

  “Hmmm,” he said, obviously pleased. He pulled Stella closer and gave her a quick kiss. “I’m always glad to oblige,” he said playfully, twirling a strand of her hair. “I mean, a fellow works hard to perfect that kind of skill. When you told me to leave so suddenly, I got to thinking I might have been a little rusty.”

  “Not at all,” she said. “You were great. With all this time on my hands, I remembered every second of that night. It kept me going while I was in that miserable stinkhole.
”

  “Well,” he said, cranking the engine and smiling over at her, “if you insist, I think there’s a motel right down the block. It’s not fancy, though. Are you sure you don’t want to go downtown to a first-class hotel, maybe the Omni or the Ritz-Carlton?”

  “I’ve been in jail, Sam,” she said. “Right now, Motel 6 would seem like a palace.”

  Sam took his hands off the steering wheel and faced her again. “Maybe we should go and have a nice dinner somewhere instead. Then later—”

  Stella leaned over close, her hand brushing over his crotch. Rubbing her breasts against him, she whispered in his ear, her voice breathy and sexy, “Play it again, Sam.”

  The next moment they were speeding down the road in search of the nearest bed.

  chapter

  SEVEN

  The room was small and tawdry. With a torn chenille bedspread and limp, worn sheets, it reeked from bug spray. Stella nonetheless felt the motel room was an improvement over the jail.

  As soon as she stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around her and walked into the other room where Sam was waiting on the bed, he reached out and snatched the towel away.

  “Don’t, Sam,” Stella said, frowning as she grabbed the towel back and quickly covered her body. “I thought you said they had blackout drapes in this room. Why’s there so much light?”

  “They do have blackouts,” Sam responded. “They just won’t close. Something’s wrong with the curtain rod, I guess. Besides,” he continued, “I want to look at you.”

  Stella’s chin went up and her back became rigid. “You only think you want to look at me,” she said. “Trust me, Sam, you don’t.”

  A stream of light was pouring in from the crack in the drapes, and Stella realized she was standing in the center of it, almost as if she were being illuminated by a spotlight. She moved several feet back into the shadows.