What We Find (Sullivan's Crossing, #1)(80)

The rest of the weekend was more of the same. It was busy and there was plenty of work to do but Cal enjoyed the friendly, happy energy of the crossing. There was a lot of cleaning up on Tuesday after the bulk of the campers had headed home. In the afternoon, Cal sat on the front porch of Sully’s house, out of reach and earshot, and called Becky.

“We have court at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. I thought I’d touch base, make sure you’re ready and know what to wear.”

“You don’t have to tell me what to wear, Cal. I know I should be conservative.”

“Not Amish, just conservative. That trick of trying to look like a Sunday school teacher usually has the opposite effect. Be prepared for the judge to ask you a few questions about what happened. Answer just as you explained to me.”

“Is it going to be okay, Cal?”

“There are no guarantees but it’s my educated guess that you’re not going to spend any time in jail.”

“I hope you’re right,” she said.

He pulled his suit, the only one he’d brought with him, out of the back of his truck. The day he met Becky, he took it to the cleaners. It was covered in blue dry-cleaning plastic. He dressed early in the morning. His shirt was starched, his tie was probably still in style. He’d shined his dress shoes.

“Can I borrow your briefcase so I look like a real lawyer?” he asked Maggie.

“You didn’t bring a briefcase?”

“I packed everything. I only brought a suit and a couple of shirts and ties in case I had to dress for some reason, but I honestly didn’t think it would be for a court appearance.”

“That is a fine suit, California,” she said. Maggie sat cross-legged on the bed. Her long, brown legs stuck out of her khaki shorts and a white shirt covered a blue tank. “Did you go to work looking like that every day?” she asked.

“I had a few good suits,” he admitted.

“I bet you were a clotheshorse,” she accused.

“I thought if I could have all those things I missed out on growing up it would make me a better person. It was a great lesson.”

“Because it didn’t?”

“You know the answer. You have to work on who you are from the inside out.”

“Are you going to tell me about this court case when it’s over?”

He grinned at her. “Probably not.”

“Well, you’re very hot and I want to jump you. That suit turns me on.”

“I’ll be wearing the suit when I come back. Be ready,” he said with a naughty grin.

Cal met Becky just inside the courtroom doors and went through security with her. She was wearing a nice dark suit with a colorful scarf around her neck—no cleavage, no extra jewelry. She wore nude hose and black pumps and looked like a lawyer. Or one of the rich women from Aurora.

Waiting outside their courtroom was Steve, the bartender from the hotel bar where Becky had been arrested. Cal shook his hand and thanked him for his appearance, but Becky looked confused. “Do you remember Steve?” Cal asked her.

She shook her head. “But you look familiar.”

Cal laughed. “He’s the bartender, Becky.”

“Oh,” she said. “Well, I only had that one glass of wine.”

“Am I going to have to testify or something?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know. That’s not really up to me. If you do, it’ll just be that one question I already asked. We’ll have to wait to be called so let’s find a place out of the way to sit down. I’ll let them know we’re here.”

Just as Cal was turning to go, a uniformed police officer appeared.

“Now him I remember!” Becky whispered.

“Best if we don’t talk to him now,” Cal said. “Just go sit over there.”

It was over an hour before it was their turn to appear. Cal guided Becky to the defense table and indicated for Steve to take an empty chair in the gallery behind them. Then it was only minutes.

The charges were announced. “The county versus Rebecca Canaday on the charge of soliciting.”

“Everybody here?” the judge asked.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Cal and the young ADA said in unison.

“What’ve we got,” he said, turning pages.

“We move for dismissal, Your Honor. The motion should be there. According to the arrest report, Ms. Canaday didn’t solicit anyone for any reason. There’s no probable cause or evidence.”

“Approach,” he said.

Cal and the ADA both went to the bench. The judge looked at the young ADA over the rims of his glasses. “You read this police report, Mr. Lockhart?”

“Yes, sir. The police officer signed the report and will testify that they had an agreement on sex for money.”

The judge raised an eyebrow. “The same police officer who wrote the report and failed to mention taking the defendant to a hotel room or giving her money? That police officer?”

“They made a deal,” the ADA argued.

“And was there a wire?” The ADA shook his head. “Witnesses?” Again the head shaking. “Corresponding evidence?”

“We can supply the witness and corresponding evidence, Your Honor,” Cal said. “The bartender was a witness to the fact that no money changed hands. No money was even visible. He heard the whole thing and was about to ask the gentleman to leave the lady alone. The police officer cuffed her while she was sitting at the bar.”