Theodore Boone: The Accomplice

Chapter 13

The wire transfer from MobMoney did not arrive until four p.m. Friday afternoon. Theo was sitting in the conference room, waiting. He had deposited all the cash and checks, a total of $1752, into the Boone & Boone trust account, with his mother’s approval, and when the wire landed there was a total of $2320. They would worry about the excess funds later.

Since Mrs. Boone would write the checks from the firm’s trust account, she agreed to call AAA Bail Bonds and get the details. She was informed that Sparky was out of town and there was no one else available to write the bond. She called Rodney Wall’s office to request his assistance, but was informed that he had left for the day. His cell phone went straight to voice mail. She called another bail bond company, Action Bonds, and was encouraged when a Mr. Bob Hawley agreed to see her. She and Theo left immediately and drove to Action’s office, also near the courthouse. Daisy was at work at the salon and could not get off.

Action did business from a grungy little room just down the street from AAA. Bob Hawley inspired all the confidence of a man who sold used cars, but at least he was pleasant and seemed eager to help. He pulled out some forms, took a few notes, and called the jail.

His smile vanished and he frowned as he listened. When he rang off he said, “Sorry, but there’s some bad news. Seems as though the boys can’t get out right now.”

“And why not?” Mrs. Boone demanded.

“They put a hold on them. There was a fight or some kind of trouble at the jail, so now they’re locked down in solitary confinement.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Theo blurted. “Another dude jumped them. It wasn’t their fault.”

Hawley shrugged as if he heard this all the time. “Can’t help it, son. You’ll have to talk to the judge.”

Mrs. Boone glanced at her watch and said, “It’s four thirty on Friday afternoon. I’m sure the judge has already left.”

Another shrug.

Theo whipped out his cell phone and speed-dialed Judge Frank Pendergrast’s office. Voice mail, closed for the weekend, call back Monday.

They thanked Mr. Hawley, left, and walked two blocks to the jail where Theo led his mother straight to the desk of Captain Rick Pruitt, her former client. Pruitt was certainly not expecting to see Mrs. Boone at the jail but was clearly impressed by her presence. She explained their predicament and Pruitt immediately grabbed a file to review the matter.

He led them to a reception area and they waited as he flipped through the pages, his frown getting heavier with each paragraph. Finally, he said, “Yep, looks like there was a disturbance of some sort in the jail and the Lambert boys are in a bit of hot water, not to mention that armed robbery. The jail reported to Youth Court and Judge Pendergrast put a hold on their release pending further orders.”

“I don’t understand,” Mrs. Boone said.

“Happens all the time back there, Mrs. Boone. We can’t have the inmates fighting among themselves so we take a hard line on bad behavior.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Theo said. “He and Tony got jumped by another dude.”

Mrs. Boone asked, “If I can find Judge Pendergrast, can he release the hold over the weekend?”

“He’s a judge, ma’am, and they usually do whatever they want. But you’re calling him over the weekend?”

“Oh, I’ve done it before, not Pendergrast, but plenty of other judges.”

“I’ll help any way I can,” Pruitt said.

“Thanks.”

Half an hour later, Theo returned to the jail with textbooks and workbooks stuffed into his heavy backpack. By now he felt like a regular, and the deputies and jailers and secretaries were no longer amused by the sight of a kid visiting the place and walking around as if he practically owned it. He spoke to them all, called them by name, was very polite because he had learned the valuable lesson years earlier that adults are always impressed by kids who are polite.

After twenty-four hours in solitary, Woody’s face had improved little. His left eye was still puffy and practically closed. The cut on his forehead had scabbed over and there was swelling around it. He seemed calm, though, and not as nervous as the day before. He described the dark little dungeon where they kept him, and the terrible food, and the boredom. He had no idea where Tony was but had heard from a guard that Jock had been released Friday morning.

“Think about that, Theo,” he said. “Garth pulls a stupid stunt, gets us arrested, and he’s been out since Wednesday morning. Then we get attacked by a pit bull named Jock and we get the blame. He gets out, too. We’re completely innocent but we’re still here. This system ain’t working too well, Theo.”

“I know, but we’re trying, Woody. We’ve raised the money and my mom tried to sign the paperwork an hour ago. Now she’s trying to find the judge, but it might be Monday.”

“Monday? Come on, Theo, I can’t stay here all weekend.”

“We’re trying, Woody. That’s all we can do.”

Woody’s shoulders slumped in defeat.

Friday dinner was always at Malouf’s, an old restaurant owned by a Lebanese couple. Theo complained to his mother that he was not feeling well and begged off. Plus, he thought his parents might enjoy an evening to themselves. The family had had a rough week, and he really wanted some time away from his parents.

The truth was that Theo disliked the idea of eating in a nice restaurant while his friend was stuck in a dungeon, choking down bad food. Mrs. Boone had been unable to locate Judge Pendergrast, so posting bail was not possible. Theo was furious at the system, and the way that the judges and policemen, even the lawyers, seemed to think that staying in jail a few more days was no big deal.

After another awful meal of vanilla wafers and not one but two cheese sandwiches, Woody was relaxing on his bed and trying to stay warm when a sudden knock jolted him to his feet. A guard walked in, said get up and follow me, and Woody did as ordered. With no handcuffs, he was led upstairs to the main wing, down a familiar hallway, and shown to a cell where Tony was waiting.

Their solitary confinement days were over. The cell was nicer and warmer, with two bunk beds and a small shelf with half a dozen paperbacks strewn about.

Sitting side by side on the bottom bunk, and talking in low voices, they compared notes and wounds. The cuts and bruises were healing slowly. Tony had heard that Jock was gone, thank goodness, so perhaps they were somewhat safer. Woody described his meeting with Theo and delivered the welcome news that the bail money had been raised. However, they would not be released until Monday.

“How did Theo find two thousand dollars?” Tony asked.

“Everybody pitched in. Mom, Theo, the Boones, my friends, a teacher, lots of folks. Even Dad came through with some money.”

“Dad?”

“Yep. Hard to believe. Theo said Garth is having a fine time on Facebook, laughing about his big adventure and bragging about what his lawyer will do. What a creep.”

“And he’s been out since Wednesday morning. Go figure. I might punch that jerk when I see him.”

They entertained that pleasant thought for a moment, then Woody said, “I can’t believe it but I kinda missed this cell. They had me in a dungeon.”

“Me too. We gotta get outta here, Woody. I’m not cut out for jail. Been doing a lot of thinking lately and I might just pick up my game a little, go back to class, hit the books, get serious about the future.”

“Same thoughts here. I’ve been thinking about Mom and how hard her life is. And we’re not making things any easier. The least we can do is straighten up and stay in school.”

“And avoid stupid mistakes. You know, Woody, nothing good happens when you’re riding around at night, on a school night even, drinking beer. It was pretty stupid, and I want to say I’m sorry. We had no business running around with Garth, and I feel bad because I forced you to do it. I’m your big brother and I’m supposed to set a good example. I blew it. My bad, kid.”

Tony put an arm around Woody’s shoulders and squeezed him. “It won’t happen again.”

Woody didn’t like being hugged by his brother but he was touched by his apology. “It’s not your fault, Tony. We knew what we were doing.”

“You’re only thirteen, and every kid your age is influenced by older people, especially family members. I blew it, and I promise it won’t happen again.” Tony removed his arm and Woody relaxed.

“Thanks,” he said. “I’m just glad we’re together again.”

“Right, and we’re going to stick together. We did nothing wrong and we can’t let Garth and his lawyer trick us into a bad deal. Got it?”

“Whatever you say.”