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“Very well. How do you plead to the charges?” he repeated.
She raised her chin and straightened her back. “Not guilty.”
“Of course.” Judge Johns glanced at the wall clock and sighed. It was almost lunchtime. “Since you’re here with counsel, and Sheriff Minor is here, let’s do this quickly. Sheriff, please take the stand.”
He approached and stepped into the witness box next to the judge. The bailiff held out a Bible. Grady placed his left hand on it and raised his right.
“Do you swear that the testimony you’re about to give is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” It was recited from memory. The man had been a bailiff for the past fifteen years and probably mumbled it in his sleep every night.
“I do.”
Grady spent the next five minutes or so recounting the events of the other day that led him to issue the two tickets, then what happened that morning that led to Amanda’s arrest. He made his usual spiel about a stop requiring a “full cessation of movement, which the driver’s vehicle did not do,” and how he’d determined her speed after she rolled through the stop sign and accelerated away.
Sitting next to Cyrus, Amanda rolled her eyes, something Grady noticed. So did the judge. Johns leaned forward and pointed a finger at her. “Ms. Sparks, do not disrespect my courtroom by rolling your eyes or giving any other sarcastic response to the witness’s testimony.”
Chastised, she mumbled an apology. Her cheeks pinkened, and she dropped her gaze to the table in front of her.
After Grady finished, Cyrus asked him a few standard defense questions, searching for anything that might cast doubt on the charges or give him grounds to dismiss them. Grady answered each one without giving the man anything useful to work with.
Johns then instructed Amanda to take the stand. Once she was sworn in and seated, the judge asked, “Ms. Sparks, do you have anything to say that contradicts Sheriff Minor’s testimony?”
She glanced toward Cyrus at the defense table, but he gave her no indication of how to respond. After a moment, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Grady was shocked when she answered with defeat in her voice. “No, Your Honor. But honestly, I didn’t do any of that intentionally. My mind was on work and my elderly aunt who lives here and fractured her hip, and I just—I’m really sorry. I promise I’ll drive more carefully.”
“Edith Sparks is your aunt?”
Her eyebrows shot up, and if Grady had to guess, she was a little hopeful the family connection might get her out of trouble. But he knew those hopes would be dashed. Judge Johns was fair, but he didn’t overlook wrongdoing for a personal connection.
Amanda sat a little straighter. “Yes, sir, she is. I came to Antelope Rock to help her out for a bit.”
“I’m sorry to hear she injured herself, but that’s not an excuse for you to speed through my towns and ignore traffic laws.” Johns glanced down at the paperwork again. “I’m sentencing you to fifty hours of community service and a five-hundred-dollar fine. For the next thirty days, as a condition of your sentence, you are prohibited from driving except for errands necessary to care for your aunt and transportation to and from your community service.”
Amanda’s mouth dropped open.
“Once you’ve completed the fifty hours, I’ll expunge the reckless-driving conviction from your record. See the clerk to pay the fine and arrange your community service.”
She gaped at him, her eyes as big as saucers, but before she could say a word, Johns picked up his gavel and slammed it down. “Court is adjourned for lunch.”
Everyone in the room except Amanda stood as the judge rose and exited the courtroom. She remained in the witness box, staring after him in obvious disbelief.
After a moment, her gaze zipped from the bailiff to Cyrus and the assistant district attorney as they packed their briefcases, then finally landed on Grady and Beth. “But—but...”
Grady shrugged. He wanted to tell her she’d gotten off easy since Johns hated nonresidents ignoring the law in his jurisdiction, but he doubted she’d believe him.
Chapter Eight
“Need a ride, Ms. Sparks?”
The sheriff’s sugary-sweet, self-satisfied voice came from behind her. If she had hackles, they’d be raised.
As if the morning hadn’t been humiliating enough, she’d been marched back downstairs after court to have her fingerprints taken, and her mug shot snapped before they finally released her with her personal belongings. Somewhere in the Rockland County Sheriff’s Department was a photograph of her looking like she’d just swallowed a lemon. God help her if it ever made it onto the internet.
“Nope. You’re not going where I am. You’re going straight to hell, and I’m going to get something to eat since I didn’t have breakfast, and that sham of a court you all have around here took forever. I’m starving.” She snapped the words off, her tone frigid.
He blinked at her a few times, clearly shocked. She had no idea why he was surprised.
“Erm...” He ran a hand over his chin, then rested it on his duty belt. “Can I take you to lunch then? I’ll proceed directly to hell after seeing you home.”
