Chapter 4 - The Arraignment Hall
Courtroom 3B smelled of wet umbrellas and cheap floor wax. Judge Patricia Vance sat beneath the state seal, her bifocals hanging from a beaded cord around her neck. She did not look at Ryan when the bailiff read the docket number; she had processed forty-two domestic assault charges that week, and it was only Thursday morning.
Ryan’s public defender, a young woman named Sarah Chen whose briefcase looked two sizes too large for her, leaned close to his ear. "We’re entering a plea of not guilty today. It’s procedural. Bail will be set. You do not speak unless Judge Vance addresses you directly. Do you understand?"
Ryan nodded. He looked back over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the spectator benches. They were mostly empty, save for a local news reporter taking notes on a yellow pad and an elderly man sleeping through his grandson’s larceny hearing. Clara wasn't there.
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"Bail is set at twenty-five thousand dollars cash or surety," Judge Vance recited, her pen scratching across the bond sheet without hesitation. "A temporary restraining order is hereby issued. The defendant is to maintain a distance of no less than five hundred yards from the residence on Elm Street, from Clara Miller’s place of employment, and shall have no third-party contact directly or indirectly. Turn over all firearms to the sheriff within twelve hours of release."
When Ryan was led back through the side door, the clinking of his shackles sounded extraordinarily loud against the linoleum. He had twenty-seven thousand dollars in a joint checking account, but using it required a signature that would violate the paper currently resting on the judge’s desk.
