Page 76 of Stone Coast
Prescott straightened up, adjusted his suit, and regarded her with a nod.
The state’s attorney was a viper of a woman with shoulder-length auburn hair, predatory eyes, and a sharp figure. She wore navy blue pants and a cream blazer. I figured a stint in the prosecutor’s office would lead to a career on the otherside. But for now, she looked like she was ready to bury every dirtbag under the jail.
The judge looked at her and said, “Let’s hear the charges, Ms. Vale.”
“The defendant is charged with first-degree murder in the death of Carter Wallace. A handgun belonging to the defendant was found in a dumpster not far from the body. The ballistics match the defendant’s gun, and her fingerprints were on the weapon. Given the severity of the crime and the fact that we believe Ms. Stone is a flight risk, the state is requesting no bail.”
Prescott scoffed like it was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. “My client is not guilty and is not a flight risk. She is an upstanding member of the community and a decorated veteran who has served her country with distinction. The firearm was stolen, and my client tried to report it as such. The PBPD’s phone system was down. Imagine that,” he quipped. “There is no evidence to suggest my client was at the scene. This whole thing is ridiculous.”
The judge leaned back and gave a suspicious glance to the state’s attorney. “Ms. Vale?”
“Your Honor, the defendant believed that the decedent, Carter Wallace, was responsible for the death of her fiancé.”
“Objection. Is she a mind reader now?”
Ms. Vale cleared her throat and rephrased. “The defendant contacted local law enforcement and suggested Wallace was a suspect in the recent murder of her fiancé. We believe the defendant took matters into her own hands.”
“My client has no criminal history, Your Honor,” Prescott said.
“How does your client plead, Mr. Prescott?”
“Not guilty.”
The judge paused for a moment in consideration. “Bail will be set at $250,000. Ms. Stone, you are to surrender your passport and remain within the county. You are to surrender all firearms.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“And stay out of trouble.” The judge banged her gavel. “Next!”
Prescott flashed Ms. Vale a smirk.
She didn’t look pleased.
I asked Prescott, “Where did you come from?”
37
The warm sunlight felt good on my face when I stepped out of the county jail. I had to be processed through the system before my release, which took a few hours.
Prescott greeted me with a smile. “Don’t say a word, and come with me.”
A crowd of reporters and camera crews gathered. Lenses closed in, oppressive and suffocating.
Tessa Vaughn had pushed her way to the front of the mob. The girl was a shark, and she smelled blood. “Did you kill Carter Wallace?”
I said nothing.
“Is this related to the death of your fiancé?”
Prescott escorted me through the crowd to a black Lincoln Town Car that waited at the curb. He grabbed the door, and I slid across the cushy leather seats. He climbed in after me and pulled the door shut with athunk. With a nod to the driver in the rearview, the car rolled away.
I was overwhelmed by the attention. I couldn’t believe there were so many reporters. With a glance through the rear window, I watched the horde capture more footage as we pulled away. It was surreal.
“How does it feel to be free?”
“I’m not really free with this hanging over my head,” I said.
“You need to think positive. I don’t lose cases.”
