The inmates looked around as if trying to figure out who that lucky first one might be. Lucius craned his neck too and spotted Tallulah in the second row of wooden benches. A man in a wheelchair who wore a tiny American flag on his suit jacket lapel sat in the aisle next to her. Lucius raised his hands and waved his fingers at Tallulah. She gave him the thumbs-up sign.
At least one of them was optimistic.
Other than the fatigue on her face and her wrinkled clothes, she looked good. So good, his heart gave a little stutter jump, and he felt a smile crack across his face in spite of his dire situation. One thing for sure, he did not miss being under that curse, a spirit without a form, unable to feel his surroundings. She changed—no—transformed him into a real man, maybe even a better man than he’d been with Mourning Dove.
Mourning Dove. The memory of her face, so close to his this morning, made him to want to weep. Beautiful Blackfeather had forgiven him—but how could he forgive himself for not letting go of a pile of wood to be with the woman he loved? How could he forgive himself for letting her die? Somehow, he had to find the descendants of that child—his child—and make amends.
He jerked upright at the sound of his name being called. A deputy hauled him out of his seat and led him over to a table in front of the judge. The man in the wheelchair was already there, making notes on a yellow pad. Another man in a suit sat at a similar table on the other side of the aisle.
The judge cleared his throat and gave Lucius a hard stare. “This is Yellowstone County DC 13, State of Montana vs. Lucius Stewart, Judge Joseph Williams presiding. The Defendant Lucius Stewart is present in court with Defense Counsel Bert Blackfeather. The State is represented by County Attorney Robert Miller. You may be seated, Mr. Stewart.”
Hands at his waist, Lucius planted himself in the chair and looked at his lawyer for guidance.
“Keep your eyes on the judge.”
He nodded and obeyed.
“Mr. Stewart, we are here today for an Arraignment Hearing,” Judge Williams continued. “The purpose of the hearing is to notify you of the criminal charges pending against you in this court, and your rights with regard to these charges. You have a right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you, including as evidence at trial. If you are unsure of how to respond to any question, you may consult quietly with your attorney before responding.”
He leaned over to Bert and whispered, “I didn’t do anything.”
Bert nodded. “Hang in there. Just be honest.”
“Mr. Stewart, today, are you under the influence of alcohol or any drug that clouds your judgment?”
“No, Your Honor, I am not.” The only thing clouding his judgment was his complete confusion about what he was doing here.
“Are you suffering from any physical or mental condition that interferes with your ability to understand today’s proceedings?”
“No, sir, I am not.”
Hurried whispers between a deputy and Miller caused the judge to pause.
“Mr. Miller, do you have something you wish to say about Mr. Stewart’s ability to understand today’s proceedings?”
“No, Your Honor.”
“Let us proceed, then.” The judge rustled some papers. “Have you received a copy of the charging document?”
Bert held up a paper. “We have, Your Honor. I’m giving a copy to my client as we speak.”
“Is your legal name Lucius Stewart, as set forth in the caption of the charging information?”
“Yes, sir, it is.”
“Have you read the charging information?”
“No, sir.”
“Take a minute to review it, please.”
An excellent reader, Lucius nonetheless took more time than he needed.
This is insane. I didn’t do any of this. Metal cuffs rattling, he put his hands down and nodded.
“Do you understand the allegations set forth within the information document?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Based on your understanding, do you waive having the document read to you now?”
“I do.”
“In summary, as stated in the document, you are charged with three offenses. Count one, aggravated assault. Count two, arson. Count three, deliberate homicide, should the victim die. These crimes were allegedly committed on or about yesterday within Yellowstone County, Montana.” The judge shook his head. “Should the victim die, the offense of deliberate homicide is punishable by life imprisonment or death. Should the victim live, the offenses of aggravated assault and arson are each punishable by a maximum of twenty year’s incarceration at Montana State Prison and a fine of not more than fifty thousand dollars.”
He felt like a character in a dime novel, one where the good guy is actually the bad guy and vice versa. The more the words rolled over and around him, the more a rock pile of despair weighed on his chest. Soon, he’d be crushed with the weight of the words falling down on him. “In addition to the penalties I have already stated, if you plead guilty or are found guilty you are subject to obligations for payment of restitution for the financial loss suffered as a result of the offenses and costs, fees, and financial assessments that come as part of a conviction.”
Money. They want money? Good luck with that. Hysteria bubbled up and he bit the inside of his mouth to keep from laughing.
“In answering the charges you have rights.” The judge read through the script of rights, including keeping silent.
I’ve been silent long enough. The urge to shout out his innocence battled with his need to show respect to the court.
“With your rights in mind, are you ready to enter a plea to the charged offenses?”
Bert nodded. “Yes, we are, Your Honor.”
“Please stand, Mr. Stewart.”
He rose to his feet, legs as wobbly as a new foal. How could he get through this without collapsing? A newborn to this world in most respects, how would he find his way? He had to rely on Blackfeather and Tallulah, he guessed. For that, he offered his gratitude to the good Lord for bringing them into his life.
“Mr. Stewart, to the charges of aggravated assault, arson and deliberate homicide, how do you plead, guilty or not guilty?”
His mouth dry, he croaked, “Not guilty.”
“The record will reflect a ‘not guilty’ plea to the offenses in the charging document. Does the defense seek to have a trial date selected today?”
Bert nodded. “Yes, we do, Your Honor.”
With the assent of both attorneys, the judge moved on to the bail hearing.
“Mr. Stewart, the purpose of this hearing is to determine the necessary and appropriate conditions for your release from jail pending trial. Has the State prepared a proposed release order with release conditions?”
The County Attorney stood. “Commensurate with the nature of the offenses charged and with the fact that we feel the defendant poses a serious flight risk—he has no identification, is unemployed, and just appeared in town yesterday—we recommend the defendant not be released. We want him held in custody, without bond to ensure he makes it to trial.”
“Has the Defendant reviewed the release conditions proposed by the State?”
“We have, and we disagree, Your Honor.”
Lucius wanted to hug Bert.
The judge threw his glasses down on his desk. “Please state your arguments regarding release conditions and bail.”
“Mr. Stewart has no prior record and has deep-rooted connections with the Billings community. He left as a young man and returned yesterday to be reunited with his family, which is why he ‘just appeared’ as Mr. Miller said. His belongings were stolen from him, which is why he had no identification when he was arrested.”
“Where are his family members?”
“You’re looking at them, Your Honor.”
“Is this some kind of joke, Mr. Blackfeather?”
“No, sir. We’re…cousins, on my great-grandmother’s side, once removed.”
“I know
you’re a competent lawyer, Mr. Blackfeather and there’s no law against an attorney representing a family member. But, this isn’t a movie. Mr. Stewart, are you certain you want your cousin to represent you?”
“Yes, sir.”
The judge shook his head. “Go on. What do you propose?”
“Release him to my family. He can stay with my sister, Emma Horserider.”
“Hmmm.” The judge pinched his nose. “What do you say to that, Mr. Miller?”
“This is highly unusual, Your Honor.” Miller’s eyes bugged out, and the veins in his neck bulged. “Ever since he was arrested, this man has been claiming he was born in eighteen-seventy and that he’s over a century old. He’s not competent to leave the jail.”
The judge put his palm out. “Hold on a moment. Mr. Miller, when Mr. Stewart said he had no conditions that would interfere with his ability to understand the proceedings that was your opportunity to disagree. Yet you said nothing about these assertions. Now you’re saying he’s mentally ill? You can’t have it both ways. Whose side are you on?”
Miller’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.
“Hearing no further objections and considering the gravity of the alleged offenses, I hereby grant bail at the amount of five hundred thousand dollars. Can your cousin post the required amount?”
Bert nodded. “Yes. We take care of our family. We will post his bail, Your Honor.”
Miller threw his hands in the air. “This is absurd. Where are you going to get that kind of money?”
Bert stared daggers at the opposing counsel. “That’s my family’s business, not yours.”
The judge put his glasses back on, scribbled furiously, and handed a note to his assistant.
“Mr. Stewart, at this point I have not imposed or required any conditions of release. I advise you that after release conditions are imposed by this court, any violation of the conditions may result in your arrest, a higher bond may be required, and additional release conditions may be imposed. Any failure to appear at trial or hearing may be cause for you to be charged with the additional offense of bail jumping, a felony offense punishable by up to ten years at a Montana State Prison, and a fifty-thousand-dollar fine, in addition to any consequences imposed for the pending charged offenses. Any bond you have posted may be forfeited. Do you understand these terms?”
Lucius said, “Yes, sir, I do.”
“There is to be no contact with the victim. You are hereby remanded to the custody of Emma Horserider, whom I see standing in the back of the courtroom with—is that a pug?”
Lucius and every head in the courtroom turned to look at the wriggling dog.
“She’s a service dog in training, sir.” Emma held Franny up to display a little red jacket emblazoned with the words ‘Emotional Service Dog.’
The judge suppressed a smile, cleared his throat, and glared at Lucius. “Emma Horserider will be personally responsible for you, Mr. Stewart. If you do anything to violate any of these release conditions, you will get not only yourself in trouble, but also this fine upstanding member of our Billings community whom I know and trust. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Lucius swallowed a lump in his throat. “Thank you, sir.”
“Ms. Horserider, please see the clerk of the court for putting up the bail money.” He paused. “And, Mr. Blackfeather, I hope you’ll be in town long enough to make it to this man’s trial. He’s going to need your legal expertise. Don’t go flying away on him, now, you hear me?”
Bert smiled. “I’ll be sure to be here, sir. I’ve taken some time off from Homeland to be with my family. If it pleases the court, in keeping with my client’s right to a speedy trial, we’d like to get on the court calendar as soon as we can.”
“Rushing things a bit aren’t you?” Judge Williams frowned. “You’ll need time to build a defense, and the county attorney will need time to build his case against your client.”
Miller responded a little too loudly, “I’m ready anytime Mr. Blackfeather is.”
“Gentlemen,” the judge remonstrated. “I won’t allow this courtroom to be a competition to see who the better word-wrangler is. A man’s life is on the line. Don’t forget that.”
Lucius whispered to Bert, “Do I go with you now? What do I do?”
Bert shook his head and spoke in a low voice, “Today they’ll take you back to the detention facility, and your discharge paperwork will be put into motion. You’ll sign your release papers and the officers will see if you have any outstanding warrants. Tomorrow, or more likely the next day, when all your paperwork is completed, you’ll be brought to the booking area, you’ll change back into your own clothes, and then you’ll be released. Emma and I will be waiting outside to pick you up.”
The judicial assistant handed the judge a note. “Says here, we will see you back in court first thing in the morning eight months from today. Sorry, gentlemen, that’s the speediest trial you’re going to get in Yellowstone County. Too many cases, not enough judges. Count your blessings you’re not in New York City. Cases can take two years to get to trial.” He slammed the gavel down. “This matter is adjourned.”
Chapter Twelve
When Lucius walked out of the detention facility and crossed the street, the megawatt grin on his face kicked Tallulah’s pulse up a notch. He embraced Tallulah, shook his “cousin’s” hand, and rubbed the pug’s belly.
“Thanks for getting Tommy and Jimmy to watch out for me, Bert. Nobody troubled me last night.” He stood and glanced between Emma and Bert. “One of you want to explain how we’re related?”
Emma threw her arms around Lucius. “Nice to meet you great-great-grandfather.”
Emotions raced across the man’s face. Lucius frowned in puzzlement, smiled, then blinked back tears, his throat working spasmodically. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she didn’t bother to wipe them away. This event, this change in status, going from alone and lonely, to being embraced by a large family would be overwhelming for anyone, much less a man who had been in limbo for a century. She walked over to the grass with Franny, away from the family circle.
“Tallulah, where do you think you’re going?” Bert called.
She thought she was being subtle. Apparently not. “Just wanted to give you guys a little privacy.”
Bert waved her over. “We need to talk.” When she drew closer, he lowered his voice, “Lucius needs a shower and clean clothes. And we need someplace to chat—without video surveillance cameras watching our every move.” He tilted his head at the cameras on the outside of the detention facility.
Tallulah stepped back and gave Lucius a once over. “Will’s about the same size as Lucius—except for the belly. Until we can get to a clothing store, I bet we can find some jeans, a shirt, and a belt he can borrow back at the hotel. There’s a freezer full of bison burgers and buns in the kitchen. We could talk there too.”
Bert stroked his chin. “Sounds like a plan—except for the fact that it’s a crime scene.”
“Well, I just gave you my one and only idea. You have a better one?”
“The only area Otterlegs taped up was the front door,” Emma said. “There has to be another entrance.”
“I thought your brother said it was crime scene?” Tallulah asked. She made air quotes with her fingers. “As in, ‘Do Not Enter.’ ”
Bert put his index finger to his lip. “Shhh. Big Brother is watching.”
Glassy-eyed, Lucius appeared to be in a daze.
Tallulah waved her hand in front of his face. “You okay, big boy?”
“Okay? I’m more than okay. I’m fine as cream gravy.” The glassy-eyed stare morphed into a face-splitting grin. “I have a family. I struck gold in the outhouse.”
Bert roared with laughter and slapped his thigh. “I guess you could say you found a pony in the pile of manure that’s been your life.”
Franny danced and yipped, running in circles around Tallulah and Lucius, binding them together with her leash.
&nb
sp; Tallulah smiled. “Did you train her to do that, Emma?”
“Pretty smooth, but no, she did it all on her own.” Emma motioned to her pickup truck. “Why don’t you two ride with me? If they left a deputy watching the hotel, I’ll give Bert a call and we’ll reevaluate our plan.”
“At least I’ll be able to get my rental car.” She couldn’t keep the car forever and at some point in time, she’d have to go back to New Jersey—even if she did want to see where things were going with Lucius.
After a thirty-minute ride, they arrived at the Hotel LaBelle, where no deputy sheriff kept watch over the place. “My guess is they’ll send a guy out once a day to check on the scene, make sure no squatters move in.” Emma shut the engine off and grabbed a large buckskin pouch off the backseat. “They’re understaffed and, as you saw in court today, overworked.”
Lucius led them to the back entrance.
Tallulah tried the door. “Locked.”
“Not a problem.” He picked up a rock and pointed at the bottom. “Will keeps a spare key in this fake stone.”
Emma phoned Bert and directed him to park in the back lot near the ramp up to the porch.
Tallulah returned from Will’s room with clean clothes, soap, shampoo, and towels. “Pick a room, any room. I’ll find us some lunch while you get cleaned up.”
After pulling out six burgers and buns, she rummaged around through the jumble of utensils in the kitchen drawers and cabinets and wondered how Will could find anything in this mess. Drawer and pantry organizers would have been a good start. At last, she found a frying pan, flipper, and condiments.
Bert arrived, his briefcase on his lap. “Hope you can find us a beer to go with those bison burgers. I could use a brew after today’s tour de force.”
“Will said he had a lot of local ones on tap.” She went out to the bar and returned with an empty glass. “Guess he didn’t pay that bill, either.”
“Water will have to do, then.” Bert shook his head. “He really had no nose for business. What the hell was he thinking?”
The Haunting of Hotel LaBelle Page 12
