Throne of Truth

“I’m downstairs. They’ve allowed visitation. I’m heading over there if you want to come.”

I stood up so fast my chair fell backward. “I’m on my way.”

* * * * *

Willingly walking into such a clinical, terrifying place tied my stomach into unfixable knots.

My heart lodged in my throat as Larry guided me through the process of signing in, being searched, and given a visitor badge. The forms we had to sign, the rules we had to abide by—it all made me believe I was the guilty party and I’d never be allowed to walk out of there again.

How did Larry do it so often with his clients?

How did loved ones visit their incarcerated family and not have panic attacks while trudging the hallways to see them?

David had followed in the Range Rover, even though I’d traveled with Larry in his Town Car. I’d refused to let David come in with us, and the last I’d seen of him, before entering this awful building, was his pissed off and frustrated expression where he sat in the parking lot.

“Why did it take so long to grant visitors?” I asked, handing over my gray cashmere jacket to go through the x-ray machine.

“Long?” Larry chuckled. “My dear, this is quick. I’ll admit I leaned heavily on a few people to make this happen. But consider this super-sonic.”

“It’s been two weeks.”

“Two weeks is nothing for a remand prisoner.”

“Remand?”

Larry slowed his step, educating me on this terrifying new world. “Being held in remand is what Penn is currently facing. He hasn’t been convicted or even given a trial date. He wasn’t granted bail based on his prior record and could technically endure a long stint before we can show them the truth and get him freed.”

I swallowed hard.

Two weeks had been awful. I didn’t think I could wait much longer. It wasn’t the fact I needed him with me or that I desperately needed to just talk to him to smooth out our crinkled edges—I just hated to think of him in here, locked up like a beast. “How long?”

Larry cleared his throat; his unwillingness to answer made his cheeks flush. “Well, I’ve already invoked the right for a speedy trial which technically means it should go before a judge within forty-five days. However, Penn is special. I wouldn’t be surprised if paperwork goes missing or ‘inevitable delays’ occur.”

My shoulders sunk as if he’d piled sand on top of me, burying me alive.

His voice shifted into caring. “We’ll get him out, Elle, but I’ve had some cases that can take anywhere from one to three years for a verdict to be reached.”

The floor wobbled as if it suddenly became a surfboard in high seas. “What?”

His hand landed on my forearm, features filling with pity. “That’s why so many people take a plea bargain because it means they can skip the long wait time. But in Penn’s case—he can’t.”

My brain throbbed. “Why?”

“Because any plea bargain would bury him—thanks to enemies in high places. His only chance now is to plead not-guilty and accept however long it takes to get that hearing and have evidence speak for itself.”

I wedged a fist into my stomach, trying to hold in the acid threatening to wash away my heart. “Greg will testify against him.”

Larry’s face darkened, but he shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal.

He couldn’t hide the fact that it was a very big deal.

“Well, I have a few game plans up my sleeve so that shouldn’t matter too much.”

I didn’t want to ask but my lips formed words, and they traveled to Larry’s ears. “What if they don’t work? What if they—”

He shook his head, squeezing my arm kindly. “One thing this business has taught me is not to play the ‘what-if’ game. If there are any monsters in this word, Elle, it’s those two inconsequential words. ‘What-if’...well, if you invite that question into your life, you’ll go insane, and nothing else will matter but the ever revolving answers and terrors that ‘what-if’ can provide.”

I shivered. It wasn’t the first time Larry had been so wise nor would it be the last I was sure.

“In here.” The officer acting as our escort guided us down stark gray hallways where harsh lighting offered no comfort. My heels clacked as we passed through another locked door with bars on the glass window. “You have thirty minutes. No touching. No tampering with prison property. No giving the prisoner gifts or contraband. Break the rules, and you’ll be asked to leave with a three week non-admittance. Got it?”

Larry rolled his eyes. “Frank, you know me. I’m here all the time. When have I ever broken the rules?”

Frank coughed, rubbing his prison guard uniform importantly. “It only takes one, Mr. Barns.” He narrowed his eyes at me pointedly.

Larry rubbed his mouth. “You know, I had asked for a private room. Important lawyer stuff to talk over. You understand.”

Frank scowled. “Not today. Fully booked. Take what you get. Next time, maybe.”

Larry tapped his temple in farewell. “Next time, it is.” Taking my elbow, he added, “Come along, Elle. Let’s not keep Penn waiting.”

We pushed into the room, and instantly, my eyes leaped over the couples and families gathered with their heads close over metal tables. The gray day outside offered no warmth to the gray misery inside. The only window showed gunmetal clouds with the odd speckle of rain on the barred glass.