CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
soon as I left Dax, I found Jordie and gave him the sheet of notes and told him to call Riza so she could arrange for bail. Then, I went to the court to take care of the paperwork for the bail hearings. I knew that the docket was light today, so it would be likely that both Dax and Beck would come before the judge. I wanted to be absolutely prepared for any eventuality.
I trusted that Dax had, in fact, told me everything, but I didn't trust that he knew everything himself. Beck was the wildcard, and I wanted to meet with him before I walked into the courtroom and found out that I was asking for bail for the actual murderer. I returned to the jail and asked to see Beck. As his lawyer, I had the right to meet with him and advise him. But I didn't particularly care about advising, so much as finding out what was going on with his story.
The officer brought me back to the interview room where'd I'd met with Dax, and there I found a smaller, weaker version of the man I was so intensely attracted to. Beck was shorter than Dax by a good four inches and his hairline was receding where Dax's was still thick and curly. Beck's scraggly beard and dirty clothes were the exact opposite of Dax's neatly maintained scruff and perfectly pressed pants. It was a study in contrasts, and I wondered how two brothers could be so incredibly different.
"You my lawyer?" Beck slurred as the officer sat him down and cuffed his left hand to the table the same way he'd done with Dax.
"I am," I said in a crisp voice. "My name is Brooke Raines, and I'm going to be representing you at today's bail hearing."
"Cool," he said drawing out the “oo” sound in a way that made me wonder if he was high or if there was some other issue.
"Beck, do you remember where you were the night Lydia Banks was murdered?" I asked.
"Who?"
"Lydia Banks, your brother's lawyer," I repeated.
"Aren't you my lawyer?" he said, raising his glazed eyes to look at me. He was as high as a kite.
"I am," I said. "I want to know where you were the night Lydia Banks was murdered."
"Party," he smiled. "I was partying with the crew!"
"Where were you partying, Beck?"
"The boat, man," he said raising his right hand in a fist and causing the officer standing guard to open the door and look at me. I shook my head and he closed the door, leaving us alone.
"What boat?" I asked.
"The big one, dude!" he laughed. "Man, we had a blast! There was coke everywhere, and R'nR brought the party kit!"
"R'nR?" I asked. It was obvious that Beck was a serious junkie, just as Dax had warned.
"Yeah, you know, rest and relax! R'nR!" he laughed at his own joke, but came no closer to explaining who R'nR were. I made a note of it on my legal pad and circled it.
"Beck, why did they arrest you today?" I asked. "Do you know why?"
"Yeah," he said with a frown. "I punched a cop. They didn't like it. I didn't mean to, though."
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. It wasn't funny that Beck didn't know why he'd been arrested, but the fantasy world he'd built for his drug-addled brain was somewhat amusing.
"No, they arrested you for trespassing," I said. "Did you know that?"
"Nope, sure didn't," he said shaking his head. "What'd I trespass on?"
"Your brother's boat," I said.
"How'd I do that?" he asked seeming genuinely confused.
"That's what I'm not sure about, Beck," I said. "Can you remember what you did earlier today? Why were you on the boat?"
"They told me to go get the stash," he said. "Said that if I got it, I could have a hit. They said that I wouldn't get in trouble, but they would."
"Who told you this?"
"R'nR! Aren't you listening to me?" he said, obviously annoyed as he picked at his fingers. "They give me what I need."
"Beck, you need to tell me who R'nR are," I said in a stern voice as I tried to hide the exasperation I felt in having to negotiate with someone whose reasoning was impaired.
"Are you gonna get me and Dax out of here?" he asked looking up at me with a childlike curiosity.
"I'm going to do my best," I said. "But you're going to have to help me."
"Okay," he nodded looking down at his hands as if seeing them for the first time.
"Beck, what did R'nR give you?"
"Mmmm, a hit," he nodded. "Yeah, they gave me a hit."
"Of what?"
"Dunno," he shrugged. "I asked and they gave it to me."
"Okay," I sighed. "Is there anything else you can tell me about why you were arrested?"
"I hit a cop," Beck giggled. "He tried to take my stash, so I hit him. It was mine!"
"Good lord, Beck!" I yelled. "Do you have any idea what you are doing to your brother?"
"No, why?" he asked. I was furious with him for putting Dax in such a perilous position in order to feed his habit, but I also knew that if he really did have a serious drug problem, it was unlikely that he was doing anything that could be considered premeditated. This made things more complicated because I couldn't point to anyone other than Dax as the potential murderer. And if I didn't have an alternative motive, I was going to have a hard time arguing that Dax should be out on bail. Getting mad at Beck wasn't going to help, though. I needed to calm down and think.
"Beck, think carefully," I said in a calm voice, approaching the questions from a totally different angle. "Who was on the boat with you when Lydia disappeared?"
"Huh?"
"You were on the boat, right?" I asked.
"Uh huh," he nodded.
"Who was on the boat with you when Lydia disappeared?"
"Who's Lydia?" he asked.
"Okay, I think we're done here," I sighed. I had to admit that perhaps Beck wasn't involved in any of this and that maybe he was simply the fall guy, but if that were the case, then why was Dax being charged with Lydia's murder? None of this made sense.
I gathered up my things and tapped on the door to let the guard know we were done. Before I left the room, I looked back over my shoulder and would have sworn that I saw Beck smiling and giving me a knowing wink. But when I blinked and looked again, he was again sitting at the table staring at his fingers.
I shook my head to clear the obvious illusion and went to find Jordie and Roger. We had work to do.
#
that afternoon, I appeared before the judge and argued that bail be set in both cases. The judge pushed back, asking how I could be sure that Dax wouldn't jump bail and run. I assured him that Dax's ties to the community were strong enough to keep him firmly situated in the city. I also pointed out that Dax was Beck's brother and caretaker and pointed to the history of him stepping in and making sure his brother followed the rules.
"And look where it's led, Counselor," the judge said with a grim expression.
"Your Honor, I can guarantee that Mr. Malone will appear in court as requested for all hearings," I said.
"And exactly how are you going to do that, Ms. Raines?" the judge asked.
"Myself or one of my associates will check in with Mr. Malone at regular intervals until the trial, and Mr. Malone will agree to stay within a six block radius of his office and his home."
"That's highly unusual, Ms. Raines," the judge observed. "I'm not sure that's in the best interests of you or your associates or that any of you can enforce it."
"We believe that Mr. Malone is innocent," I said simply. "We're going to do whatever it takes to prove that."
"Very well, Counselor," the judge said. "Bail is set at four million for Mr. Dax Malone, and one hundred thousand for Mr. Beck Malone."
I nodded as the spectators gasped. I had been prepared for the bail to be much higher than this, so four million sounded like a steal. Riza had arranged for the bondsman to have the paperwork ready as soon as the hearing was over. So, as soon as we signed the papers, Dax and Beck were released into my custody.
Jordie pulled up and we all climbed into the car with Dax and Beck in back. Beck began asking a series of rapid-fire questions until Dax told him to shut the hell up. He was silent until we pulled up in front of the rehab facility.
"What the fuck?" Beck yelled.
"Shut up, Beck," Dax growled. "It's for your own good."
"The fuck it is!" he shouted. "I never agreed to this! I never said I'd go to rehab!"
"This isn't about what you want, Beck." Dax sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. He looked exhausted. His eyes were weary and as he spoke, I could tell this was painful for him to do to his brother. Painful, but necessary. "You need to go to rehab. You have a problem."
"You can't do this to me, Dax!" Beck cried. Tears began flowing down his cheeks as he sobbed and begged Dax not to do this. I felt my heart breaking as I watched the two brothers. Dax trying to be strong and make the right decision, and Beck sobbing like a lost child as his brother put an arm around him and tried to assure him that everything would be okay.
"I don't want to do it, but I have to," Dax said. "Someone has to stop this and you aren't strong enough to do it yourself."
"I don't want to go," Beck said in a small voice.
"I don't want you to go, either, but you have to," Dax said as he wrapped his arms around his brother and spoke quietly. "You have to go and get sober, Beck. You can't end up like...them."
Beck looked up at Dax and nodded, and the brothers walked up to the front door together. Thirty minutes later, Dax climbed back into the car and said, "Let's go."
I looked into the backseat and saw Dax staring out the window, obviously not wanting to talk. I nodded at Jordie and we headed back to the office.