Chapter four
72 hours after her arrest...
She inhaled deeply as the courtroom doors opened for her. Escorted by a guard, she made her way to the defence table with her eyes locked firmly to the ground, watching her feet as she took each step.
"Sit," the guard instructed as he gripped her arm and pulled her toward the seat.
She didn't quite catch his name earlier and, to be honest, she didn't really care. The man wasn't nice. Not cruel, far from cruel, but it was obvious he looked down on her: just another crook getting what she deserved.
Her father had come - despite her begging him not to - and was already seated in the second row. Martha and Alexis sat either side of him, both offering him gentle touches of support. She appreciated these women who had so openly welcomed her and her father into their family but she couldn't help but detest the fact that they were all here right now. She was grateful for their support, but she couldn't bare the idea of her family seeing her this way: deflated and exhausted, dressed in prison khaki's and already, after just a few days, losing the last scraps of hope she had left.
Behind her family sat Lanie and the boys. They were all smiles: forced grimaces that she was sure were meant to be reassuring. But she could see the pity in their eyes. She hated that.
She gave her father one more quick glance; even managed to muster a weak smile for the man. But the devastation he felt was so evident in the creases of his face. She wanted nothing more than to go to him, to wrap her arms around him and promise him that she was going to be okay. But she never could lie to the man. She had to look away before she, yet again, became too overwhelmed by the emotions she just couldn't seem to keep at bay.
"Ms Beckett," a meek voice beckoned her attention.
She turned to see a well-dressed man holding a messy stack of files standing by the edge of the defence table.
"Andrew Coulton," the man introduced himself, holding a hand out for her. "I know our paths don't usually cross but your reputation proceeds you. It is an honour to represent you, even if it is just for your arraignment."
She stood, reached out and shook the man's hand. "Uh, thank you- I guess."
"Right," Coulton drawled. "Probably not the ideal time to be raving about you," he concluded.
"Just not really used to defence attorneys singing my praises," she offered as an excuse for the awkwardness of the interaction.
Coulton smiled and sat in the seat beside her. "Speaking of attorneys; have you hired your defence?"
Kate nodded. "Michael Haynes."
"Okay, good." He busied himself with his pile of folders, searching through the mess as he spoke. "Bet you're glad to have him on your defence. He's a Pitbull!"
A Pitbull, indeed. He and Kate had crossed paths several times over the years, butting heads each time. She had been both shocked and eternally grateful when he had showed up at FBI headquarters after her arrest, claiming to be the family lawyer.
Coulton finally found the file he had been so intently looking for and pulled it from the stack with a victorious smile.
"Okay, so, I spoke to your husband-"
"You saw Castle?" she interjected.
"Yes, I was at his arraignment," he informed her.
"How is he?"
Coulton tilted his head from side to side, as if shuffling his thoughts to find the correct one.
"We're going to ask for bail," he said after a few seconds.
She frowned. "He's already been arraigned."
"Not for Rick," he clarified with the shake of his head and a furrowed brow. "For you."
Kate looked at her defender, confused. "I won't be granted bail."
An accused murderer granted bail: the idea was laughable.
"It's always worth a try, right?" he said in a naively hopeful tone of voice that filled her with exactly no reassurance. "I mean, especially given your current...condition."
Kate's stomach flipped. "How'd-"
"Your husband told me."
She turned away from Coulton and risked a glance over her shoulder to where her friends and family sat, anxiously awaiting any news.
"Was that mentioned at Castle's arraignment?" she asked, turning back to Coulton.
If it had been, their family and friends showed no hint of knowing.
"It doesn't pertain to him," Coulton said. "So no. But Richard insisted I try to use it to your benefit."
Of course he did, she thought. She turned back to her family; her loving, supportive, completely unaware family.
"Unless you don't want to try?" Coulton questioned, bringing her attention back to him. "Which, I mean, why not? Right?"
She shrugged. "I guess."
But she knew better than to hope that this desperate grasping at straws would ever work.
"All rise for the honourable judge Patricia Martinez."
Kate rose to her feet, felt every ounce of her weight being pulled down by gravity as her head began to spin. Judge Patricia Martinez had been in Kate's orbit for many years and, in that time, they had built a strong professional relationship. Somehow, that made the situation seem all the more dire.
The courtroom clerk stepped forward to begin the proceedings. "Criminal case 214-455-A, United States of America v. Katherine Beckett-Castle. Will counsel please note their appearance for the record..."
The voices and faces around her began to fade away as her panic set in.
No part of this felt real. It was a dream, surely. A terrible nightmare. And, any second now, she would wake up and turn to find Castle by her side. He would wrap his arms around her, tell her everything was okay. She would mould her body to his side, rest her head on his chest and drift off to sleep listening to the calming sound of his heart beating under her ear.
This would all be over.
"Mrs Beckett-Castle," Judge Martinez addressed her directly, pulling her from her desperate day-dream. "Did you receive a copy of the indictment?"
Kate cleared her throat. "Yes, I did."
"And did you have a chance to read it?" the judge asked.
"Yes."
"You understand the charges laid against you."
Kate's mouth felt like cotton as she spoke again. "Yes, I do."
"Alright then. We may proceed."
She tried to focus but, as her charges were read out to the courtroom, everything seemed to fade away. Voices were nothing more than a distant echo, her surroundings dark and blurred. She replayed everything she knew over again and again in her mind but still couldn't figure out how it had all ended with her sitting here. She wasn't sure how long she had zoned out for before a harsh voice yanked her back into reality.
"The People request remand, your honour," the District Attorney announced in a firm voice.
"Mrs Castle is not a risk," Coulton started, only to be cut off.
"Mrs Castle is a risk. And she is a flight risk," the DA continued. "Her husband has enough money to pack up the whole family and have them in a non-extradition country by the end of the day."
"My client's accounts have already been frozen and she is more than willing to surrender her passport," Coulton countered. "Not to mention she is a highly regarded law enforcement-"
"Your client is on trial for a violent crime," the DA interrupted, annunciating his words for ultimate impact. "Her former esteem does not detract from the severity of these accusations."
"Accusations," Coulton repeated pointedly as he glared at the man opposing him. Then, he returned his attention to the judge. "Your honour, my client is willing to agree to any conditions: electronic monitoring, supervision and regular check-ins. Anything. She is in a prison with at least a dozen inmates that she put away; she just wants to ensure that her unborn child is not at risk."
Kate could hear the soft gasps from behind her but her attention was fixed to the judge as her composure softened just the smallest amount, her sympathetic eyes fell on Kate.
"You're pregnant?" the judge asked.
Kate nodded. "Yes, your honour."
"How far along?"
"Eight weeks."
"Did you know you were pregnant when you gagged and bound Caleb Brown, then burned him alive?" the DA asked, determined to prove his point.
Kate closed her eyes and tried to ignore the wave of nausea that rushed over her, violently. Caleb Brown had met his end in the most horrific way. The idea that anyone would think that she was capable of doing something so grotesque, so inhumane-
"That is enough!" the judge scolded the prosecution. When Patricia Martinez looked down at Kate, she didn't even attempt to hide the conflict in her eyes. "You are accused of murder, Mrs Castle. Until it is proven otherwise, I have no choice but to treat you like any other accused that walks into my courtroom. It is my sworn duty to protect our community."
The judge sighed; a breath heavy with remorse.
"I'm sorry, bail is denied."
She could see the question on her father's face from the moment she sat down across from him.
Why didn't you tell me?
But he granted her mercy, asked the other burning question instead.
"You waived your right to a speedy trial," he stated. "Why?"
Kate shrugged. She knew that wasn't an answer but actual words just seemed too complicated right now.
Jim reached across the table and placed his hand over his daughter's. "Katie-"
"The boys need time to build our case," she explained. "Rushing to trial-" She took a deep breath. "It's not to our benefit."
Jim simply nodded his understanding.
It was painful, knowing that it might take months or even years for this to be over, but she couldn't give up hope. Her boys were on the case; they wouldn't give up on her. This wouldn't be how her story ended.
"Can you do something for me?" she asked, her voice soft and hesitant.
"Of course, Katie. Anything."
"I, uh- I wrote a letter for Rick," she explained as she pulled the folded pages from her pocket. "Mail is checked by guards when it is sent, and then it will be checked again when he receives it so it could take weeks-"
"I'll get it to him," Jim promised.
He held out his hand and she placed the the letter in his palm. Then, she wrapped her two hands around his and gave him a gentle squeeze.
"Thank you."