CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

They all sat in the jam-packed courtroom gallery as close to the front row as they could get. They sat behind the bar that separated them from the counsel table, where Gemma Gabrini sat for the defense.

When MaKayla was escorted in from the holding cell by the court’s bailiff, they were at least relieved to see that she was in her regular clothes and was not in shackles. They knew it was Brent’s doing. They also knew he was going to take flack for granting her that favor too. But they were glad he did it. She was innocent. There wasn’t a criminal bone in MaKayla’s body. They were all convinced of it.

Brent came into the courtroom behind the prisoner and then made his way into the gallery too. Charles and the rest of the family scooted over and Brent sat beside his father at the beginning of the row. Charles placed an arm around his oldest child. Nobody else could see it, but Charles could see the agony in Brent’s eyes.

“How’s she handling it?” he asked him.

“Not great.”

Charles looked at his handsome son who looked worn-out himself. “How are you handling it?”

“Not great,” Brent admitted.

Charles squeezed his broad shoulder. “It’ll work out eventually.” But getting to eventually, they both knew, was the problem.

And then the judge was announced and everybody stood to their feet as a big, burly white man sat on the bench. And the proceedings began.

“Before we address the matter at hand,” the judge said to the State, “has a special prosecutor been appointed to oversee this case?”

A woman nobody in the family recognized stood up. “Yes, Your Honor. I was appointed last night.”

“Your name for the record?”

“Cindy Termaine, sir.”

“Alright Miss Termaine. Welcome to Jericho.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Mrs. Gabrini, hello.”

Gemma and MaKayla stood up. “Good morning, Your Honor,” Gemma said.

“Good morning. And good morning to you, too, Mrs. Sinatra.”

“Good morning, Your Honor.”

“I must say it is quite troubling to see you on the other side of this courtroom. Quite troubling indeed.”

MaKayla wanted to spout out her innocence in that moment. She wanted to yell it from the rooftop. But she knew not to say a word. She knew anything she said would only work against her.

“Does your client wish to enter a plea at this time, Mrs. Gabrini?”

“Yes, Your Honor. She wishes to enter a plea of a thousand percent not guilty, sir.”

Her add-on irritated the judge. “Those theatrics are not going to be tolerated in my courtroom. You hear me, Mrs. Gabrini? I don’t know how they do it in Vegas, but here in Jericho we adhere to norms. Do I make myself clear?”

Reno and Teddy looked at each other. The nerve of him!

But Gemma wasn’t playing to the judge when she made that statement. She was playing to the public from whence a jury would be seated. “Yes, Your Honor,” she said.

The judge then turned to the Prosecution. “Does the State wish to be heard regarding bail in this matter?”

“We do, Your Honor.” Termaine then leaned down and conferred with the two other prosecutors at her table, as if she wanted to be absolutely sure that they wanted to proceed a certain way. Which concerned both Gemma and MaKayla. What were they up to? Why would she need to confer on the bond amount when it was a standard amount for first time offenders in the DA’s office?

“Mrs. Termaine, I don’t have all day,” the judge said.

Then the special prosecutor addressed him again. “I apologize, sir. I just got the case late last night. But the State request that bail be denied in total, Your Honor.”

The family could not believe it. “They got to be kidding me,” Sal whispered to Reno, whom he sat beside.

“She’s a Sinatra,” Reno whispered back. “They aren’t kidding.”

The judge seemed taken aback too. “This is highly irregular, Miss Termaine, considering this is her first offense. I could at least understand a high bail given her position in the community, but no bail at all?”

“We have reasons, Your Honor.”

“And what reasons are that?” the judge asked as everybody in the packed courtroom, especially the Sinatra and Gabrini clan, looked at the special prosecutor.

“We ask that you deny bail in total, sir, because we believe Mrs. Sinatra to be a flight risk. The evidence against her is daunting to say the least, and she married into a family that boasts, not one, not two, but last I counted at least six private jets at her disposal. And those don’t include the family corporate jets, not their private use ones. They could get her out of the country without breaking a sweat, sir.”

Gemma jumped up. “I object, Your Honor! Just because her in-laws are wealthy doesn’t mean she will break the laws when she never has before.”

“It’s not just her in-laws, sir. Her own husband is a very wealthy man as well.”

“That is irrelevant to the matter of bail,” an exasperated Gemma pointed out. “I object, Your Honor!”

“Objection overruled,” the judge said, and Gemma reluctantly sat down.

“Also,” Termaine continued, “while Mrs. Sinatra was still at the scene of the crime, she telephoned our witness who is prepared to testify under oath that she asked him to find somebody that could smuggle her out of the country for cash, and that these rich in-laws would pay him for his services too.”

“Your Honor I object!” Gemma yelled out.

“If you grant her bail, we’ll never see her again!” Termaine yelled back.

And the two ladies were talking over each other as the judge was banging his gavel. Brent couldn’t believe it. This was like a nightmare!

“Your Honor,” Gemma angrily shouted out, “the prosecution knows better than this. She made that statement for public consumption only. She made that statement to prejudice the jury pool against my client!”

“What is your request?”

“The Defense requests that every word the prosecutor just spoken be stricken from the record and she be sanctioned for such a horrific act. We have not been informed about any witness. We know nothing about this person. There was no proffer given whatsoever. At this early, arraignment stage such a witness statement would be far more prejudicial than probative on its face! This is highly improper, Your Honor!”

“I agree,” the judge said angrily as he looked at the special prosecutor. “Prosecution and Defense in my chambers now!” He then gaveled a temporary halt to proceedings, left the bench as everybody rose to their feet, and then Gemma Gabrini and Cindy Termaine made their way to the judge’s chambers.

The family moved over to a side wall and huddled. “What was that about?” Reno asked.

“Who’s this Termaine chick anyway?” asked Sal. “We need intel on her.”

Brent, however, was only concerned about MaKayla’s well-being. He went over to the defense table and spoke softly with her.

But it wasn’t a very long break at all. The judge and the lawyers returned to the courtroom within ten minutes of their absence. Brent asked Gemma if everything was okay, but she could only shake her head no. Brent’s heart squeezed in anxiety.

Court resumed, everybody sat back down, and the judge made his decision known. “After further consideration of all the facts in this matter, and because of the witness involved, the unusual circumstance cannot be ignored. Bail is denied.”

Gasps in the courtroom, especially from the family.

“Objection, Your Honor,” Gemma stood and said. But her voice was a defeated voice.

“Objection noted.”

“We will make an emergency appeal for a single justice review,” Gemma added.

“Noted,” the judge said, and then adjourned as he gaveled the proceedings to a official close and left the bench.

MaKayla looked back at the family with a look of bewilderment none of them had ever seen on her face before. And it gave them all pause. If they didn’t know her like they knew her, they’d declare she was guilty as sin. But they knew her. That was why it was all so painful to every one of them.

After MaKayla was escorted out of the courtroom, and after Brent told her not to worry and that he’ll take care of it, the family quickly hurried over to the defense table. “What happened, Gemma?” Charles asked her. “Why no bail?”

“There’s a witness willing to testify under oath to what Cindy Termaine said in court.”

“And the judge bought that shit lock, stock and barrel just like that?” asked Reno.

“He did, yes.”

“But why?” asked Jenay.

Gemma exhaled. “Because of who the witness is.”

“Who is it?” Brent asked.

Gemma exhaled again. “The Deputy District Attorney Darren McGuire.”

When they heard the position first and then the name, a silent chill overtook the family. They understood what that meant.

“That asshole!” Brent said.

“And that’s not all,” Gemma said.

“What else could there be?” asked Sal.

“McGuire is willing to also testify that he knows for a fact that MaKayla was in a sexual relationship with Alvin Clayton.”

Everybody was stunned.

“That’s bullshit,” said Brent.

“And he has the video to prove it,” added Gemma.

Another silent chill came over the family.

“Video?” asked Charles.

Gemma reluctantly nodded her head as she began to gather up her papers and stuff them in her briefcase. Her slumped demeanor said it all.

“Did you see the video?” Jenay asked her.

Gemma nodded again. “A snippet of it, yes.”

“What did you see?”

“I’m not at liberty to say at this time.”

“But it was bad?” asked Charles.

Gemma looked at Big Daddy. “Yes.”

They all looked at each other and then over at Brent.

“Maybe they manipulated it,” Brent said, grasping at straws. “Maybe they used A.I. and made it look like it was MaKayla,” he was saying, but Gemma put a stop to that fast.

“It was no A.I. It was MaKayla on that tape. It was her. I’m sorry, but it was her.” Then she swung her briefcase off of the table and stood erect. “Let me go talk with her and explain to her everything that’s transpired. I’m going to initiate the appeal right away.”

“How does that work?” Charles asked.

“One justice on the Supreme Judicial Court will hear the case and determine if an error has occurred and bail should have been granted. If we win, and I still believe we will, then she’ll be granted bail, probably a very high one so be prepared, and then she’ll be home free for now.”

“How long does this appeal process take?”

“We can get a ruling as early as today. But more likely tomorrow.”

Brent didn’t like it, but he knew there was nothing to be done about it now. “Thanks, Gemma,” he said, Gemma squeezed his arm and looked at him with the kind of pity Brent despised but understood, and then she and Sal hugged before she left.

But they were all worried sick. They looked at each other. Then they all looked at Brent.

But Brent was looking at Reno and Sal. “MaKayla was not in any sexual relationship with anybody,” he made clear.

“I know you love your wife,” said Reno. “But you can’t say that.”

“I’m saying it, Reno.”

Reno and Brent stared at each other. And Reno knew, had it been Trina, he would have been saying the same thing. “Understood,” he said.

“They aren’t interested in doing this right and playing this down-the-middle fair,” Brent said. “If Darren McGuire’s willing to lie on her and fabricate evidence I don’t care what that video shows, that proves it. They aren’t interested in justice. Are they?”

“No,” said Sal, the most powerful mob boss in the world behind Mick Sinatra. And he said it bluntly and without reservation.

“Then we can’t play fair either,” Brent said bluntly, too, shocking his parents.

“Oh don’t worry,” said Reno. “We weren’t going to anyway. These bastards messing with one of us? Get the fuck out of here! All’s fair and nothing’s fair up in this bitch from here on out.”

“I know that’s right,” said Sal.

And for once, given what MaKayla was up against, even Charles couldn’t disagree.

But as they continued to gather around, a tall Hispanic man in a dark suit made his way into the courtroom and over to where the family was gathered. “Chief Sinatra?”

Everybody looked when they heard Brent’s name. Nobody recognized the man. “Yes?”

The man extended his hand to Brent. “My name is Juan Rivera. I’m the senior agent in charge with the Maine Bureau of Investigations. How are you, sir?”

Brent didn’t shake his hand. He knew why he was there. “How can I help you?”

The agent smiled as he removed his hand. “I wanted to let you formally know that the MBI will be the agency in charge of the investigation into the death of Judge Alvin Clayton. The Jericho Police Department will be relieved of all of their duties regarding that case forthwith.”

Reno and Sal wanted to kick his ass. Any man that used forthwith deserved an ass-kicking in their view.

Brent wanted to do the same, but he knew how easily that one man could make it horrible for MaKayla.

“Have I made myself clear, Chief?” Agent Rivera asked.

“I heard what you said, yes.”

“I must admit we found it odd that one of your officers, rather than you as police chief, contacted us.”

Brent wasn’t about to dignify that comment with a response because he knew that same agent would not have contacted them either had it been his wife accused of a crime. At least if he loved his wife.

“Anyway,” the agent said, still smiling, still looking at the family members as if he already knew of them, “you folks have a nice day.” And then he turned to leave.

But he turned right back again. “By the by,” he said, which further annoyed Reno and Sal, “there’s another issue. No member of the JPD is allowed to go into or spend the night inside of any cell that houses any prisoner while we are in charge of investigations. Do I make myself clear?”

Brent stared him down. “Crystal.”

The agent smiled as if he was actually in charge, and then he laughed. “Alrighty then.” And then he walked back out of the courtroom.

Reno and Sal looked at Brent. “You gonna let that cocksucker handle you like that?”

Brent looked at Reno as if he had no clue the balancing act he had to perform just to keep MaKayla safe, and then he walked away.

Reno shook his head. “He’s blood. Brent’s one of us. But that guy I don’t get.”

“Neither do I,” said Sal. “And never have.”

“What’s not to get about him?” asked Charles. “Brent knows what he’s doing. Because of this family and their gangsterism, he’s had to walk on eggshells his entire career. They come, they make demands, and Brent’s going to do whatever the hell he wants. That’s what you need to understand about my son,” Charles reminded them.

But Reno and Sal, who were accustomed to getting their way with acid rather than rain, had to see more than what they were seeing from a man like Brent who always was too gun-ho law and order for their tastes anyway. They remained unconvinced.