The judge’s eyes flicked between us. “Agreed. I can see the defendant has no criminal history, and the law regarding health supplements isn’t clear. However, the law regarding mushrooms is. Bail is set at fifty thousand dollars.”
My stomach rolled over.
“Please submit your ideal timeline and several available dates to my clerk,” Judge Mahoney said, her tone crisp. “I find it’s easier to schedule pretrial motions and trial that way. I expect that by the end of next week.”
Nana reached out and held my hand.
The judge pounded her gavel, and the sound echoed through the marble chamber. “Court dismissed.” She rose, gathering her papers in one clean motion, and swept out with her robe trailing behind her. The sharp click of her heels faded into the hallway.
I stood, the air in the courtroom oddly still now that the authority had left. The scent of lemon oil and polished cedar lingered, heavy and sweet, wrapping around the tension that hadn’t gone anywhere.
Nana turned toward me, her face pale. “I don’t have fifty thousand dollars.”
“I do,” Aiden said.
My head jerked his way. “We can go to a bail bondsman,” I started, but he was already gripping the back of the bench in front of him, pulling himself upright. His knuckles went white, and a shadow passed under his bronze skin.
“No, I’ve got it.” He reached into his back jeans pocket and pulled out his phone, thumbs moving fast.
Nana shook her head. “It’s too much money.”
He shoved the phone back into his pocket. “It’s done.”
“What did you just do?” I asked.
“I texted Saber.” His hand tightened on the bench again, the veins standing out along his wrist.
I swallowed. “Yeah?”
“He’s bringing over the cash.”
I rocked back on my heels. “You have fifty thousand dollars in cash?”
Jolene O’Sullivan edged closer, her maroon boots clicking on the tile, her expression a perfect blend of curiosity and greed. Her phone hovered like a weapon, recording.
Aiden didn’t answer.
Nana frowned. “That’s too much money to lose. I’ll go wait in the jail for trial. It’s okay.”
“He’ll get the money back, Nana,” I said quietly, gaze on him. “I need to talk to my boyfriend.” My voice was tighter than I meant. I had no idea he was that flush. Not that it mattered, but still—who just had that kind of cash lying around?
My frown deepened. How often did this man get arrested?
Sheriff Franco rose slowly from the back row, his cane clicking on the marble floor. “All right, Fiona, let’s go back to my office until we get this sorted out. Soon as we get the cash…” His gaze flicked to Aiden and back, something unreadable crossing his face. “We’ll release you on your own recognizance. I promise I’ll investigate this as well.”
Aiden took a breath, his hand braced on the bench. “This might coincide with one of my cases,” he said, voice barely steady. “Mrs. O’Shea, we need to have a sit-down. We can go do that in the sheriff’s office now if you want.”
His voice had gone soft, almost gentle. The kind of tone that cracked straight through my defenses. Tears threatened, but anger burned hotter. Not now.
“Oh, Aiden, you’re such a sweetheart,” Nana said. “I told you to call me Nana, repeatedly.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured. He swayed slightly, color draining from his face.
“Aiden?” My voice came out sharp.
His blue gaze met mine. “This might be bad?—”
Before I could move, his eyes rolled back, and he dropped, hitting his head on the bench as he went down.
