Winter Counts(46)



“Okay,” I said, “what happened was, I was trying to find a guy in Colorado—a real asshole—and this cop chased me. Turns out the cop is part of the investigation you mentioned, and he wanted to use Nathan as bait, you know, wire him up and have him buy drugs from these dealers here, but I told him no way—”

“Yes, I’ve been briefed on the offer to make Nathan a confidential informant. This thing is a lot bigger than you know. They won’t tell me much, but it looks like they’re going after the cartels. Somehow they got word that Nathan had been arrested here, and the investigator in Denver—the police officer you spoke to—was brought in for a briefing.”

“Dennis. That’s the cop’s name.”

“All right. The other news I have is that—as I’d suspected—Nathan’s case has been referred to the federal prosecutors by the state. No surprise there. I was hoping the feds might decline the referral, but they didn’t. Especially with this big drug investigation. So, Nathan will be prosecuted in federal court. The AUSA—that’s the federal prosecutor—told me what they’re planning to file against Nathan. I’ve got to warn you, they’re playing hardball.”

He opened a folder and pulled out some papers.

“As I’d feared, Nathan will be charged with a narcotics distribution charge and moved to federal detention. The reason a federal charge is so rough is because of the sentencing guidelines. In criminal cases, federal judges have to use these rules for sentencing, no flexibility at all. Bottom line, if he’s found guilty, he’s looking at a minimum of ten years in prison, no parole, along with some pretty massive fines.”

“Wait,” I said. “What’s the charge against him?”

“Narcotics distribution, class C.”

“Distribution? Does that mean selling drugs? Nathan’s no drug dealer!”

“Relax. Prosecutors typically overcharge to give themselves some wiggle room for plea bargains. It might not come to that. I hope. Anyway, there’s some good news. Maybe a silver lining.”

I waited for him to say more.

“So, the feds made an offer. A deal that could keep Nathan out of jail.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“It’s called ‘substantial assistance to authorities.’ If a defendant helps with an investigation, the judge can depart from the sentencing guidelines and issue a more reasonable punishment. Usually that means a lot less time in prison. What this means is, if Nathan helps out with the feds, he’d get a lighter sentence, but he’d have to plead guilty. The other option is to plead not guilty and take our chances in court. I’ve reviewed the file, and I can tell you there’s a pretty strong case against Nathan. I would bombard them with motions to suppress evidence, but I can’t guarantee how a jury would decide. Especially if we get a white jury. But maybe we would win—you never know.”

He picked up a gold pen and pointed it at the ceiling. “My advice is that Nathan take the deal to assist the investigation.”

I started to talk, but he held up his hand.

“Let me finish. I told the prosecutors their deal wasn’t good enough, that they’d have to do better. We went round and round, and here’s what they’re offering now: if Nathan cooperates, the feds will allow the case to stay in state court, no transfer to the federal system. That means he stays in the juvenile court system, no prison, and his record is wiped clean when he turns eighteen. I’d request probation and drug counseling at sentencing in the juvenile court. They even agreed to a PR bond, so he’d be out of detention soon, no bail. Frankly, this is an incredible deal, far better than I thought we’d get.”

“You mean he wouldn’t go to jail?” I asked. “He’d get to stay in school?”

He nodded.

“What’s the catch?” I asked.

“The catch? We’ll get all this in writing, if that’s what you mean.”

“No, I mean what does Nathan have to do? Meet with the cops, tell them what he knows? He can do that.”

The lawyer looked at me like I was slow.

“Nathan has to wear the wire and buy the drugs. They made it clear, that’s nonnegotiable. If he does it, this all goes away. Otherwise he’s looking at ten years. Or more.”

THE DRIVE BACK TO THE REZ felt longer than the drive out. Ten years in prison with no parole? That didn’t seem fair for a teenage offender, but Charley had told me it was standard in drug cases. But there was a magic bullet to keep Nathan out of prison. All he had to do was wear a wire during a drug buy, which I’d been assured would be completely safe for him.

But I knew better than to take them at their word. These were violent criminals who’d protect their business and their profits. And if word got out that Nathan had cooperated with the authorities, he’d be finished on the rez. Not only with kids his own age, but everyone. The lawyer had said we could refuse the deal and take the case to trial. It seemed pretty unlikely to me that a jury would convict a kid only fourteen years old. If the jury found him innocent, then Nathan would be in the clear completely. No juvenile detention, no probation officers, no counseling or therapy. Our family had never shied away from a battle; maybe this was the honorable way to go. Fight these charges in court, let the FBI catch the dealers without our help.

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