The deputy’s voice rang out through the courtroom, distracting him. “All rise, this court is now in session. The Honorable Judge Bolton is presiding.”
The courtroom filled with the sounds of rustling clothes and creaking wooden benches as everyone in the gallery stood, waiting for Judge Bolton to take her seat at the head of the room.
“You may be seated,” she said, staring out at everyone. “First order of business, can counsel for Commonwealth v. McGuinness please approach the bench?”
Dylan and Mr. Carver both stood once more and walked toward the judge. Mr. Carver gestured behind them to McGuinness, who rose from the pew in the gallery and walked to the defense counsel’s table.
As they reached Judge Bolton, she addressed both attorneys. “Unfortunately, the court reporter assigned to this matter hasbeen delayed. My assistant called the other ones who typically operate out of this court, and all are occupied on other matters and won’t be able to appear in this courtroom until the afternoon. That being said, I’m going to delay calling this matter until after lunch. We will reconvene then, when hopefully a court reporter is available to transcribe these proceedings.”
If Dylan hadn’t known of their conversation this morning, he wouldn’t have suspected that this was all a ruse.
Mr. Carver was unimpressed, however. “Are you serious? My client has been dragged around by the judicial system for months now. He should not have to wait another minute for his case to be heard. This is a clear and blatant violation of my client’s right to a speedy trial,” he fumed.
Judge Bolton, to her credit, was unfazed by him. “Sit down, Mr. Carver, and wait for your case to be called this afternoon. It’s unfortunate, but a few hours are not going to prejudice your client.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” he gritted out through his teeth.
He turned and stalked to the table where McGuinness was lounging with seemingly no worries in the world. He stood and followed his attorney from the courtroom, but not without giving Dylan another one of those smirks over his shoulder.
Dylan turned back to Judge Bolton. “Thank you, Your Honor.” He said this with much more sincerity than Mr. Carver had.
He grabbed his briefcase from the floor beside the prosecution’s table on his way out of the courtroom. A piece of paper stuck out of the top. It was folded over once, and he opened it to find a typed note. It read:
I have your girl. No cops, or she dies. Trust me, I’ll know if you do. Get the defendant acquitted. Pleasure doing business.
It was unsigned, but Dylan didn’t need a signature to know it was McGuinness.
He wanted to crumple the note in his fist and spied the man himself disappearing toward the escalators that led to the ground floor, leaving his attorney behind.
Tom had followed him out of the courtroom, and Dylan turned to him quickly. “I’m going to follow him. Can you do me a favor and grab the witnesses and let them know that the court will reconvene at one thirty? And give this to Judge Bolton?” Dylan handed him the note while already walking away, not waiting for Tom’s reply.
“Of course, man. Good luck.”
Knowing that at least one issue was being handled by someone else, Dylan quickly followed after McGuinness, hoping to spot him in the parking lot and to have not lost his trail already. Luck was on his side because he immediately found McGuinness’s flashy silver Porsche. Dylan sprinted toward his car and started the engine, backing out of his spot while jamming his seat belt on, and took off in McGuinness’s direction.
When he caught sight of the Porsche ahead of him in traffic, he maintained an innocent distance. They came up to the next intersection, a car in between them, and the light turned yellow. McGuinness was the car first approaching the intersection, and his brake lights flared on as he slowed for the light. Right before it flicked to red, however, he sped up and cleared the intersection. The car between them stopped completely, and Dylan was boxed in, prevented from following. He slammed hishand down on the steering wheel in frustration, yelling, “Damn it!” The woman in the car next to him quickly rolled up her windows.
At that moment, his cell phone rang. Kole’s name flashed on his screen.
Dylan answered. “Have you found her yet?”
“Nothing confirmed yet, man, but we think so.” Kole spoke rapidly. “She’s amazing. I don’t know how she did it so fast, but Abby found a property owned by a shell company that’s owned by a different company, that listsitsowner as McGuinness. It’s out in Pungo on a couple acres and it looks like there’s been no activity there for a while. We’re gonna head there now and check the area out. I’ll let you know if we find anything, okay?”
Dylan checked the cross streets of the intersection he was at. “I tried following him from the courthouse and he was heading in that direction.” The light turned green and the cars started moving once more. “Send me the address and I’ll meet you. I have until after lunch to help find her.”
Kole rattled off the address and Dylan plugged it into his phone quickly, one eye on the road.
“Okay, I’m close. I’ll park out of the way and meet you when you both get here.”
“All right, we’re five minutes out. See you soon.”
They hung up and Dylan drove until he reached the property. All he could see was a long gravel road disappearing into a copse of trees. He passed it and turned off onto a nondescript dirt road a quarter mile further, parking to wait for Kole and Abby.
CHAPTER 46
Dylan
3 Hours and 30 Minutes to Trial
