“Your Honor, my client is an upstanding citizen. He’s a military veteran, a Navy SEAL at that, with no criminal history and strong ties to the community as both a guidance counselor and a soccer coach.”
“Which is precisely why the state is recommending that he be held without bail. Mr. Hawkins very well may be a threat to children. No bail, Your Honor, is the best way to ensure the public’s safety, especially given the preponderance of evidence against the accused.”
Held without bail. Tom let the words tumble about his head and rattle away all other worries.
Held without bail.
“This isn’t his trial, Gina,” Marvin countered. “There is precedent here for reasonable bail. The defense has yet to be provided with any of the evidence against my client. Bail should be based solely on risk or danger or flight and not any assumptions about my client’s guilt. He’s returned to Shilo to look after his daughter, of whom he now has full custody. I’d say he has strong ties to the community.”
The judge gave both attorneys a stern look.
“Picking up the defense’s argument, Your Honor, Mr. Hawkins also has many contacts throughout the world from his days in the military, justifying my flight risk concern. The defendant is trained to disappear. He has the skills and the resources to do just that.”
“I’m inclined to agree with the prosecution here,” the judge said.
Marvin rose to his feet. “Your Honor, in Dunlap v. the State of New Hampshire, a town-purchased computer was used by the accused to view child pornography. The bail for that case was set at twenty-five thousand dollars. I believe this sets a precedent for bail, given that both Dunlap and Mr. Hawkins are accused of similar crimes.”
“Mr. Dunlap was never charged with felonious sexual assault,” Glantz countered. “If Mr. Pressman requires adherence to this precedent, then the state recommends bail be set at two hundred thousand dollars.”
Somebody attending the proceedings clapped loudly.
The judge slammed down his gavel. “There will be no disrespect in my court!” he shouted. The room became uncomfortably silent.
“Your Honor, my client would execute a waiver of extradition to assure the court of his commitment to this trial,” Marvin said.
“Bail will be set at one hundred thousand dollars,” the judge decided. He banged the gavel again.
Tom gave Marvin a panicked look. “I can’t afford that, Marvin. Not even if I mortgaged the house. You know that,” he said. “Do something.”
“Tom, I’m sorry. The judge sets the bail. At least we have bail. You’ll have time to rally your supporters and raise the funds. Then we’ll have our day in court.”
“I’m going to lose Jill, Marvin. I need to be free so I can fight to clear my name.”
“Attorney Pressman, is your client in a position to post bail with the clerk’s office?”
“No, Your Honor. The bail set is too high.”
“In that case, I’m ordering Mr. Hawkins be remanded to state custody in the house of corrections for a period of—”
“Your Honor! Your Honor! Please ...”
“Is somebody addressing the court?”
Tom turned around to see who had spoken. Everybody else inside the courtroom did the same. Adriana Boyd, dressed in a sharply tailored navy suit, with a glittering emerald brooch on the lapel, rose from her seat at the back of the courtroom.
“I will post bail for Mr. Hawkins.”
The room exploded in chatter, and the judge had to bang his gavel several times to regain order. “You understand you’ll be taking on the financial risk here?”
“I understand, Your Honor.”
“Okay. Mr. Hawkins, you’ll be escorted to the clerk’s office once your bail has been posted. A probable cause hearing will be scheduled for October the fifteenth.”
Tom turned again to search out Adriana to thank her. But she was already gone.
Chapter 31
Angie Didomenico repeated her demand. “I’m asking you to resign, Tom, effective immediately.”
Tom sat back in his chair. He had anticipated this, but it stung to hear it aloud. They were alone, seated across from one another in Angie’s cramped office. In the aftermath of his arraignment hearing, Angie had hastily scheduled an emergency meeting with Tom, Craig Powers (who was apparently back in her good graces), and Shilo High School principal Lester Osborne. Angie, it seemed, wanted some time alone with Tom and requested that he show up fifteen minutes before the others were scheduled to arrive. Twenty-four hours spent as a free man, and already Tom felt persecuted again.
Marvin had spent an hour on the phone prepping Tom for this meeting. He’d painted a bleak picture of Tom’s finances. Tom had enough saved to keep up with the mortgage payments. But he’d be hard pressed now to land another job, with all the negative publicity surrounding him. And without the teaching and coaching income, his ability to make the mortgage payment was once again in jeopardy.
Marvin warned him it was unrealistic, but Tom had hoped to hold on to both positions, at least until his trial. With one swift demand, Angie had all but crushed that possibility.
Resign.
“I’m not guilty of any crime, Angie.” Tom assessed Angie’s stern, unyielding expression and tried, but failed, to read any agreement on her face.
“It doesn’t matter, Tom. The battle for public perception has already been fought and lost. The risks here are substantial if you don’t resign.”
“Tell me. How could this get any worse?”
“If you ever want to teach again, it can certainly get much worse. Resignations are protected under employment laws and maintain better confidentiality. Firing you will make it a public record.”
“Are you firing me?”
“Not yet,” Angie said. Her expression now betrayed a feeling of sadness and remorse. “But you don’t have to be convicted of this crime to get fired. We can look at the evidence and make our own assessment. That’s within our rights.”
“The union wouldn’t like that move, I bet.”
“True. They probably wouldn’t,” Angie said. “They could agitate the situation, try to overwhelm us with paperwork, but they can’t change the eventual outcome here. Look, Tom, I don’t want to fire you.”
“Then don’t.”
“It’s not that easy. I’m getting a lot of pressure. Calls are flooding our office from concerned parents demanding you be kept away from their kids.”
“This is no better than a witch hunt, and you know it,” Tom said. “I haven’t done anything wrong here. I have no idea how that junk got put on my laptop. But I do know that I haven’t been convicted of any crime. The only crime here is my arrest. Whatever evidence the police have against me is bogus, and we both know it.”
Angie held her stony gaze. She was less convinced of Tom’s innocence than he’d first assumed.
“Do what’s right, Tom, and make this go away.”
“No, you do what’s right, Angie. I love teaching. I love coaching. I love helping these kids. And I’m not going to go quietly. My daughter is still here. And I won’t stop fighting to clear my name and provide for her.”
“Just what sort of future can you provide if you can’t work, Tom? Think about it.”
Though she’d just pricked at one of his biggest concerns, outwardly Tom did his best to seem unfazed. “I’ll work a dozen different jobs if that’s what it takes,” he said. “But if I’ve read my union guidelines correctly, you can’t officially fire me without documenting your case to the union’s satisfaction. So if I don’t resign, you’ll first have to place me on paid administrative leave. Isn’t that right?”
Angie’s brow furrowed. “Yes, that’s right,” she said.
“Well then, that should quiet down the tribe. I’ll take that option and go from there.”
“You’re going to be fired,” Angie said, her face now reddening from anger. “You’re making a mistake, Tom.”
“No, Angie, you are,” Tom said.
The office door swung open. Craig Powers and Lester Osborne entered. Tom stood. Without saying a word to either man, he left.
Chapter 32
Jill couldn’t look her father in the eye. She knew only vague details about the charges against him. She knew that her best friend, Lindsey Wells, was suspected of having a relationship with her father. She knew the police had found illegal images on his laptop computer, that her father had been charged with possession and distribution of child pornography, but she did not know the specifics.
Because of privacy laws specific to crimes involving minors, and Angie’s concerns for the students’ well-being, everybody involved with Tom’s case had agreed not to reveal any information to the public. Nobody knew the identities, ages, or nature of the images Tom had been accused of distributing. Jill was unaware that her father allegedly possessed lewd and lascivious pictures of her classmates, her best friend’s images among them. Or that he would be accused of masterminding a distribution ring that deployed online recruiting to scout victims to procure new product.
Jill’s already shaky world seemed shattered beyond repair. First her mother, and now this. Tom didn’t want to further test her ability to cope.
“It’s not fair, kiddo,” he kept saying to her. “It’s just not fair to you.”
They sat together at the kitchen table, but neither spoke for quite some time. On a usual school-day morning Jill would have her backpack ready for the day. But today she had her army green duffel bag at her side. And the bag was stuffed full of her clothes.
“Don’t give up on me, Jill,” Tom said. “Did you look at any of the articles I gave you?”
“I read them.”
“And?”
“And what do you want me to say?”
“I want you to say that you’ll give me some time,” Tom said. “You’ll give me a chance to clear my name.”
Jill looked past him, out the kitchen window and into a backyard that was green and lush and peaceful.
With Marvin’s help, Tom had found dozens of cases of computers being used to falsify evidence of statutory rape. Men wrongly accused on the Internet of having a sexual relationship with a minor. Even the sensationalized TV show A Predator Among Us was found guilty of entrapment. Apparently, one overly zealous producer had goaded a man with whom he’d been quarreling into meeting a girl presumed to be twenty-one years old. But when the guy showed up, the producer had changed the transcript of his “chat” and lowered the age to thirteen. The poor guy was arrested but later acquitted. The producer lost his job. Not surprisingly, the other guy’s company found cause to fire him as well.
Marvin found even more instances of pornographic images that were maliciously transferred to an otherwise clean computer. The motive for planting evidence was often revenge—a disgruntled employee or jealous lover. It happened frequently enough to give rise to a cottage industry of attorneys who specialized in proving that exact defense. Marvin didn’t count himself among those self-proclaimed experts, but Tom remained confident that his attorney was better.
Marvin had printed out more than a hundred pages from the different cases that had similarities to his own. Tom had put them in a folder, which he gave to Jill.
“Read through this,” he had said. “I just want you to see that it’s possible that I’m being framed.”
Tom was glad to know Jill had read them. At least she was willing to sit with him at the kitchen table. On the day of his release, that hadn’t even been a possibility.
“I know you want me to believe you,” Jill said. “But what am I supposed to do in the meantime? Stay here? I don’t think I can do that.”
“No, honey. I’m not asking you to stay here. I understand that this is hard for you.”
His worry about Kip Lange was now barely a pulse. There had been no sightings. No outside perimeter alarms had been set off. No blackmail attempts. Nothing from Lange at all. In some ways, Tom wished that it was Lange behind this nightmare. At least then he’d know why somebody was out to destroy him.
“Did you do this? Did you do what they’re saying?”
“Of course not, honey. But I am going to find out who did.”
“I don’t know what to believe about you anymore. I’m going to talk to Lindsey. I’m going to find out for myself.” Jill’s attitude seemed to change. For a moment, she was no longer distant. Tom saw a fresh surge of anger, and an aura of newfound determination.
“This will work itself out. I promise.”
“So we’re all clear, right?” Jill said. “You know what I’m doing.”
“You’ll be staying at the Kalinowskis’.”
“Flo and Irena have cleaned up the guest bedroom for me.”
Jill might have been placed into the foster care system if it weren’t for the social worker’s intervention. She had petitioned the state to let Jill legally reside with the Kalinowski family.
“I have the number. But the same rules apply. You don’t go anywhere alone. You tell an adult where you’re going, and check in when you get there. We talk at least once a day. Just briefly, if that’s all you can manage. Just to let me know that you’re all right.”
“Okay, I guess,” Jill said.
“Do you have everything you need?”
“If not, I can come back and get it.”
“You can come back anytime,” Tom said. “This is your home.”
“I just need to do this for now, okay?” Jill stood up from the table and disappeared through the doorway. She came back, holding Teddy.
Tom saw the raggedy bear tucked under her arm and his whole face brightened. “Hey, I didn’t know you still had him,” he said.
Teddy was missing one eye. His gray fur was nappy in places, missing in others. Jill was only four when Tom had brought home the bear she’d been eyeing at the toy store. It took only one night of bonding for her to need Teddy to fall asleep every night thereafter.
“Whatever,” Jill said, stuffing Teddy into her duffel bag. She could zip it only part way because the bag was already crammed full. Teddy’s arm was sticking out the top as if the bear were crying out for help. Tom heard three quick beeps from a car that had pulled up and parked out front.
“That’s my ride,” Jill said. She put her backpack on, then slung her duffel bag over her shoulder.
“Once a night. A quick call. Agreed?”
Jill kept her back to Tom. No embrace. No kiss good-bye. “Okay,” she said reluctantly.
Tom waved to Vern from the door. Vern got out of his Subaru sedan just as Jill was getting in. Tom could see his daughter through the windshield, talking to Vern’s kids and already more animated.
Vern hurried over to Tom. The two men shook hands.
“Hey, Tom. How you holding up?”
“As well as can be expected,” Tom said.
Vern nodded. “I just wanted you to know that I’ve got your back here, buddy,” Vern said. “You’re going to get through this.”
“Thanks, Vern. That means a lot to me. Promise you’ll be good to my girl.”
“You know I will. Heck, Sylvia’s got a week’s worth of gourmet meals planned. Trust me, she’ll be well looked after. And she’ll be coming home soon, too. This is all a setup. I know it is.”
“I appreciate the faith, Vern. I really do.”
The men shook again. Vern returned to his car, and Tom watched him drive away. He waved to Jill, but she didn’t wave back.
With a heavy sigh, he turned and walked back up the stairs to the top floor of the split-level home. He glanced to his right and saw the whiteboard perched up against the rolltop desk in the living room, where he’d last left it. He looked at the whiteboard and noticed something about it was different. Hadn’t he erased a corner of the square representing their trust obstacle? Of course I did, he thought to himself. He had wanted to illustrate some initial progress made in getting past their mutual distrust. But the square didn’t look the way he had left it. No, the partially erased square was once again c
omplete. He didn’t know when she’d done it, but she had.
Jill had drawn that missing corner back in.
Chapter 33
It wasn’t easy for Jill to send Lindsey a text message. She contemplated not doing it at all. Jill worried about what she’d say if they got together, and didn’t know how she’d feel or react. But the uncertainty was killing her. It made it impossible to think about anything else.
Once, when she was seven, her father had taught her ways to spot a lie. The lesson followed a confrontation over five dollars missing from her father’s wallet. He had told Jill not to lie to him, because he could always tell when she did. And that was when he showed her how—and pointed out that she flared her nostrils, never made eye contact, and rubbed her hands together. Convinced that she couldn’t get away with it, Jill returned the five dollars she’d taken. In exchange for telling the truth, her father had bought her the bracelet she intended to buy with the money.
Jill remembered how her father’s techniques seemed to work on Lindsey, because she’d witnessed Lindsey lie to her mother on more than one occasion. And whenever she lied, Lindsey would flick her hair back right after she did. But was it every time? Jill wasn’t quite sure. If they met in person, Jill believed that her gut would know.
Jill gazed at her phone and read through past text messages they’d sent each other. Each message she read made her feel worse, not better. They reminded her of a friendship that might be ruined forever.
After several minutes of internal debate, Jill decided that it had to be done. She sent Lindsey a message, which read simply: we need to talk! Lindsey responded almost immediately. Where are U??? she wrote back. A quick exchange followed. Jill agreed to meet Lindsey in front of the Kalinowskis’ house in twenty minutes.
Jill was waiting outside when Lindsey drove up. Lindsey had only her learner’s permit, so her mother was sitting in the car with her. But her mother didn’t get out when Lindsey did.
Lindsey took several quick, purposeful steps over to Jill. For a moment, the two friends stood face-to-face, silently staring at each other. Jill’s hands found the pockets of her hooded sweatshirt.
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