Read Online Beyond Justice by Joshua Graham - Free Book Online
Authors: Joshua Graham
Tags: LEGAL, thriller, Suspense, Mystery, Grisham, supernatural, legal thriller, Stephen King, paul tseng
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on its way." Even as they spoke, the warrant arrived, hand delivered via courier.
"It’s here. Bye."
As she read the warrant a low-pitch growl emerged from her throat, threatened to break out into a scream. She crumpled the warrant and threw it into the wastepaper basket, kicked the door and sat down at her computer, typing up all possible justifications for what she had done. None of them had strong enough legs on which to stand. She had gotten too eager to put Hudson away, too arrogant, and too careless.
Detective Batey fished the wadded-up search warrant, smoothed it out on Anita’s desk and whistled. Now he knew why she was so upset.
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning, Rachel and Dave brought me a clean change of clothes—black slacks, white dress shirt, and a red tie for my arraignment. Deodorant would’ve been nice, as I wasn’t given the luxury of a shower down at the San Diego Central Jail.
Tax attorneys typically don’t get to see the seedy side of the criminal court system. My wrists chafed under the white plastic tie-wraps. Ankle chains scraped the floor. When I entered the courtroom, my ears and cheeks burned. The gaze of every person in the courtroom drilled into my skin. I felt like a pig led to the slaughterhouse.
Behind a wooden table, I stood next to Rachel. Dave sat right behind me in the gallery. The honorable Judge Matthew Crawford awaited the reading of the docket number.
His Honor was a short man with a balding pate, delineated by two white strips of hair on each side of his head. Every now and then he wiped his glasses with the sleeve of his robe. The scowl permanently etched into his features testified to the fact he was not as impatient as he looked.
He was much more so.
Across from Rachel was Thomas Walden, the District Attorney. He stood at least a head taller than her. A robust man in his fifties, he wore a dark suit, a bright yellow tie and spoke with a haughty New England accent.
When the case number was announced, my attorney stepped forward. "Rachel Cheng for the defendant. Waive reading and enter a plea of not guilty. I’m requesting that the charges be dropped."
"Thomas Walden for the State, your honor, and is counsel joking? The State would request that the defendant be held without bail."
"My client is innocent."
"All right, Ms...Ms..." Crawford narrowed his eyes at Rachel and glanced down at his notes.
"Cheng, your honor. Rachel Cheng."
"Right." He cleared his throat. Let’s continue." My heart pounded. Where was the real killer? He needed to be here, standing before this judge, not me.
"My client is not a flight risk."
Walden scoffed. "You think he’ll sit around waiting for his conviction?"
"His four year old son is lying in a coma at Children’s hospital right now."
Crawford’s shoulders slowly rose, then fell.
"Your honor," Rachel said, "I respectfully request O.R."
"Are we even talking about the same case?" Walden said, with a sneer. "You know the severity of the charges, and you want him released on his own recognizance?"
"Do I even get a chance to make an argument, your honor?"
"All right, all right, fine," Crawford said, barely interested. "Does the defendant have strong ties to the community? Relatives, extended family?"
"His in-laws."
A grunt and the judge scribbled something, no longer looking at Rachel. "And how long has he resided in his community?"
"He’s lived in Rancho Carmelita for four months."
"Not very long."
"But he’s lived in San Diego for about five years."
"Current employment?"
"Unemployed. But he was a tax attorney for a reputable law firm—"
"From which he was recently fired for possession of child pornography," Walden interrupted.
"Alleged possession," Rachel said.
Walden huffed. "Your honor, seriously. This man should be held without bail. God forbid he kills again, before the trial. The child pornography alone—"
Unable to
"It’s here. Bye."
As she read the warrant a low-pitch growl emerged from her throat, threatened to break out into a scream. She crumpled the warrant and threw it into the wastepaper basket, kicked the door and sat down at her computer, typing up all possible justifications for what she had done. None of them had strong enough legs on which to stand. She had gotten too eager to put Hudson away, too arrogant, and too careless.
Detective Batey fished the wadded-up search warrant, smoothed it out on Anita’s desk and whistled. Now he knew why she was so upset.
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning, Rachel and Dave brought me a clean change of clothes—black slacks, white dress shirt, and a red tie for my arraignment. Deodorant would’ve been nice, as I wasn’t given the luxury of a shower down at the San Diego Central Jail.
Tax attorneys typically don’t get to see the seedy side of the criminal court system. My wrists chafed under the white plastic tie-wraps. Ankle chains scraped the floor. When I entered the courtroom, my ears and cheeks burned. The gaze of every person in the courtroom drilled into my skin. I felt like a pig led to the slaughterhouse.
Behind a wooden table, I stood next to Rachel. Dave sat right behind me in the gallery. The honorable Judge Matthew Crawford awaited the reading of the docket number.
His Honor was a short man with a balding pate, delineated by two white strips of hair on each side of his head. Every now and then he wiped his glasses with the sleeve of his robe. The scowl permanently etched into his features testified to the fact he was not as impatient as he looked.
He was much more so.
Across from Rachel was Thomas Walden, the District Attorney. He stood at least a head taller than her. A robust man in his fifties, he wore a dark suit, a bright yellow tie and spoke with a haughty New England accent.
When the case number was announced, my attorney stepped forward. "Rachel Cheng for the defendant. Waive reading and enter a plea of not guilty. I’m requesting that the charges be dropped."
"Thomas Walden for the State, your honor, and is counsel joking? The State would request that the defendant be held without bail."
"My client is innocent."
"All right, Ms...Ms..." Crawford narrowed his eyes at Rachel and glanced down at his notes.
"Cheng, your honor. Rachel Cheng."
"Right." He cleared his throat. Let’s continue." My heart pounded. Where was the real killer? He needed to be here, standing before this judge, not me.
"My client is not a flight risk."
Walden scoffed. "You think he’ll sit around waiting for his conviction?"
"His four year old son is lying in a coma at Children’s hospital right now."
Crawford’s shoulders slowly rose, then fell.
"Your honor," Rachel said, "I respectfully request O.R."
"Are we even talking about the same case?" Walden said, with a sneer. "You know the severity of the charges, and you want him released on his own recognizance?"
"Do I even get a chance to make an argument, your honor?"
"All right, all right, fine," Crawford said, barely interested. "Does the defendant have strong ties to the community? Relatives, extended family?"
"His in-laws."
A grunt and the judge scribbled something, no longer looking at Rachel. "And how long has he resided in his community?"
"He’s lived in Rancho Carmelita for four months."
"Not very long."
"But he’s lived in San Diego for about five years."
"Current employment?"
"Unemployed. But he was a tax attorney for a reputable law firm—"
"From which he was recently fired for possession of child pornography," Walden interrupted.
"Alleged possession," Rachel said.
Walden huffed. "Your honor, seriously. This man should be held without bail. God forbid he kills again, before the trial. The child pornography alone—"
Unable to
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