Gin Jones - Helen Binney 01 - A Dose of Death by Gin Jones Read Free Book Online Page A

hearings in Boston courthouses. They were grand high-rise buildings, with elevated benches for the judge, and extensive seating for the press and the curious public. There was nothing grand or elevated or extensive about the county courthouse. The courtroom was about the size of a high school classroom, and most of the space was taken up with rows of chairs for parties waiting for their case to be called. In front of them was a rickety, waist-high divider that separated the observers from the judge and the attorneys. The attorneys ‘ tables were plastic veneer, and looked like they’d been purchased at the local discount store. The judge’s bench was made of solid wood, but far from the weight and pomp of the city courtrooms. It was only raised a single step above the floor level, making it a little too easy for the parties to look down on the judge instead of the other way around. The judge would have to rely on the strength of his own personality, rather than the trappings of authority.
    Tate led Helen past the railing and offered her a seat at one of the front tables. She heard the reporter, the only other person in the room, move so that he was sitting directly behind them. “It may be a while until we’re called,” Tate said. “The morning session went longer than usual, and the scheduled hearing for this afternoon was postponed to another day, so we’re the only case on Judge Nolan’s docket today. She may make us wait, just to see how serious we are about this.”
    “ I’m serious.”
    “ You don’t need to convince me. I know what you’re spending to be here.” He pulled an issue of Woodworker’s Journal from his briefcase, and immersed himself in it.
    Helen tried to find a comfortable position on the cheap chair, a match to the ones she ‘d disdained in the clerk’s office, without fidgeting so much that Tate would notice her discomfort. Tumbling out the window this morning really hadn’t done her hip any good, but she wasn’t inclined to seek any sort of medical opinion at the moment. Certainly not with Melissa on the loose. Much higher on her priority list was finding a locksmith to replace all her locks at the cottage, so Melissa couldn’t just let herself in before she was served with the restraining order.
    After a few minutes, Helen tried reading over Tate ‘s shoulder. Fascinating as he obviously found the tips for lathe maintenance, she couldn’t get past the second sentence without her eyes crossing.
    Helen was about to give in to her hip ‘s demand that she stand up for a few minutes, when the uniformed bailiff entered the room, admonishing everyone to rise for the entrance of Judge Samantha Nolan.
    Except for her official black robe, the judge looked like Hollywood ‘s idea of a stay-at-home grandmother: perfectly permed white hair, rounded face with a hint of jowls, and a chunky necklace offering a bit of color along the collar of the robe. She was at least ten years older than Helen, but she walked briskly and didn’t hesitate at the single step up to where she presided. No one forced a visiting nurse on Judge Nolan or expected her to take a nap, Helen thought.
    The judge ‘s clerk, a chubby middle-aged blonde in clothes that were too young and too tight for her, settled at an ugly little desk next to the judge. The clerk called Helen’s name and recited a case number, before saying, “You may approach the bench.”
    After a final glance at his copy of Woodworker’s Journal , Tate tossed the magazine onto the table and escorted Helen up to a spot a few inches in front of the judge’s bench.
    Judge Nolan glanced briefly at Helen before focusing on Tate. “Don’t even bother. I’ve read the papers. You don’t have grounds for a restraining order.”
    The judge might look like a sweet old grandmother, but she obviously wasn ‘t a soft touch. Helen had to admire her strength, even if it was inconvenient under the circumstances.
    “ I know it’s unusual, judge,” Tate