First Degree by David Rosenfelt Page A

charged with first-degree murder, and there’s no doubt that the same will be the case with Laurie. It’s very difficult to get bail in that circumstance, and I can certainly count on Dylan to oppose it.
    “Bail’s going to be tough,” I tell her. I don’t lie to clients, and I’m certainly not going to start with Laurie.
    She nods, knowing very well how the system works. “If we don’t get it, and even if we do, we need to get to trial as quickly as possible.”
    “It’s way too early to be talking about a trial. We’re going to try and end this before we even get there.”
    “I can’t sit in a cage, Andy.”
    I would love to tell her she won’t have to, but it’s not within my power. This point is driven home all too clearly when the guard comes into the room to take her back to that cage.
    I tell Laurie that I’ll be back to see her tomorrow, at which time I’ll have learned much more about the situation, and we can talk about it in detail. I tell her again that we’ll get through this, that everything is going to be fine. I tell her that I love her and that she needs to keep her spirits up.
    Which brings me to the things I don’t tell her. I don’t tell her that they couldn’t have had time to test the blood on the clothing yet, so they can’t be sure it’s Dorsey’s blood. I don’t tell her that that means there is other evidence against her, evidence that the police feel independently justifies the arrest. I don’t tell her that I know in my gut there are other shoes to drop, that things are going to get worse before they can get better.
    I don’t tell her that every single cell in my body is scared shitless.
    Once Laurie has been led away, I go downstairs to see Sergeant Luther Dandridge, head of the detail that deals with the prisoners. I know him, but not well, and there’s no real reason he would do me any favors. I take a shot anyway and ask him to make things as comfortable as possible for Laurie.
    It turns out that he knows and likes Laurie, and he tells me he’s already arranged for her to be kept away from the rest of the population and treated as well as possible. When I hear him say it, I want to kiss and hug him and maybe give him the eleven million I didn’t give cousin Fred.
    I’ve got to get my emotions in check.
    It’s almost eight P.M . when I leave the jail, and I call Dylan’s office. No one answers, which means I’m going to have to wait until tomorrow to get any information. I call my office machine, and there are a bunch of messages, mostly from friends of Laurie’s and mine expressing their support. Kevin has also called to tell me he’s ready to go to work tonight.
    The last call is from Dylan, alerting me to the initial court appearance tomorrow morning at eleven. They are moving quickly, confidently. We have got to do the same, but it’s hard to move quickly and confidently when you don’t know where you’re going.
    I call Kevin at his house and he answers at the beginning of the first ring. The conversation is exactly what I expect. Even though I know he is outraged and upset, he doesn’t voice either of those emotions. Those would be wasted, unproductive words; what we need to do is spend every moment of our time and thoughts on helping Laurie, not bemoaning the unfairness of her fate. I ask him to come right over so we can get started.
    I get home and take Tara for a short walk, and by the time we get back Kevin has arrived. I make some coffee and we get down to making whatever plans and decisions we can, given our current limited access to information.
    Our first priority is getting that information, and since I will have to prepare for tomorrow’s court hearing, I give that task to Kevin. He will be waiting at Dylan’s office before it even opens in the morning, and if he gets any resistance at all to our demand for immediate production of discovery material, he will notify me before the hearing. I will then once again embarrass Dylan about it