The judge looked at a calendar then, and set their next court appearance for December 18. “You can make any motions you wish to then. And that will give counsels time to study the case. Court will adjourn the day after until January 2.” It was the boilerplate of the law, and all the attorneys knew that there would be many delays and continuances until they got to trial, if they didn’t change their pleas before then. It all depended on the strength of the evidence, what the attorneys advised, and the deals they were able to make with the district attorney, if they were even willing to make a deal in a case like this. But it was in the best interest of all concerned to avoid a trial. Juries were unpredictable, and trials cost the taxpayers money, which the state preferred to avoid. And a rape trial would not win sympathy for the defendants. If they went forward with it, with separate counsel for each boy, it would take months to prepare, and would be a circus in the courtroom and the media.
“I am going to set bail,” the judge said, looking at each of the boys, “and I am quite sure, looking at the number of legal counsel I see in front of me, that money is not an object, and your families will be happy to pay whatever it takes to get you out of jail. But I want you to realize the seriousness of the charges,” she said, looking sternly at the defendants. “This is not a light matter that your parents can buy you out of. If you violate the conditions of bail in any way, I will put you in jail, without bail, and keep you there until trial. I’m setting bail at two hundred thousand dollars each for five of the defendants,” she read off their names, “and five hundred thousand for Richard Russo, accused of rape and obstruction of justice.” She rapped her gavel then, and moved on to the next case, as the entire defense table stood up to make room for the next defendant.
“Can we go home now?” Steve asked his attorney, and he explained to him that they all had to go back to jail until someone posted their bail. He nodded and smiled at his mother. Gabe was looking longingly at his parents, since he knew there was no way they could post bail, and he would have to remain in custody for the next year. All of the attorneys were relieved because they’d been afraid that the obvious show of money would lead to a bail of a million dollars for each of them. They thought the judge had been reasonable in the circumstances. The deputies led the boys away before they could speak to their parents, and five minutes later they were in the elevator on their way back to jail, as the attorneys and parents left the courtroom together and conferred outside in the hall, while the lawyers explained what they had to do next to get the boys released. The Harrises were planning to visit with Gabe at the jail before they left that afternoon, since they couldn’t post bail. Joe Russo heard them talking about it, and said something to his wife.
It had all gone as they had been told it would. They were planning to pick up their sons, and then pick up their sons’ belongings at Saint Ambrose, as they had been asked to do. Tommy’s borrowed violin would stay at the school, and his own was still with the police, as evidence for the trial.
They had all been told that the boys could not return to school until the matter was resolved, if then. It depended on individual circumstances, an acquittal from the charges, and the final decision of the school disciplinary board about the drinking incident. Their senior year was over for all of them, and it was unlikely that any of them would return to Saint Ambrose. They were not going to be allowed to say goodbye to their teachers and friends. It had come to an ignominious end. Their belongings had been packed and were waiting for them at the administration building, and could be picked up as soon as they left court. Whether or not their prorated tuition would be refunded had not been determined yet, and would be decided by the board.
All of the boys’ parents went to the cashier, after they left their attorneys, and posted bail. The Harrises hadn’t come with them, and Joe Russo quietly posted bail for Rick, and Gabe as well. He couldn’t bear the thought of the boy languishing in jail for a year, pending trial, with all the dangers that represented for him, because his parents were unable to post bail. He was sure he wouldn’t run away. He had been a good kid until then, and he and Rick were friends. It was a generous gesture, and when the boys were released, Gabe said goodbye to the others, resigned to staying alone in jail.
“You too,” a frowning deputy from the jail said. “All rich boys go.” He was sure they’d all get off with lots of fancy footwork by their attorneys in the end, possibly except Rick Russo.
“I’m not a rich boy,” Gabe said solemnly. “There’s a mistake. My parents didn’t post bail.”
“Well, someone did. We got the paperwork. Out. Go.” He pointed to the door with the others, and Gabe looked confused as he followed them out. He was sure it was a mistake and they were going to grab him by the neck and drag him back any minute, but no one said anything as he left, and their parents were all waiting for them outside the jail. Joe Russo smiled when he saw him, and he spoke to Gabe in an undervoice.
“We’re not letting you rot in jail, son. Just behave yourself, and don’t go anywhere. I think your parents are in the coffee shop across the street.”
“You paid my bail, sir? I can’t let you do that.” Gabe looked shocked and grateful.
“Yes, you can. Now stay out of trouble, go find your parents, and go home. See you in court, as they say.” He smiled and turned his attention to Rick, as Gabe ran across the street to find his parents. They were stunned when he walked in, and his mother burst into tears when he told them what Rick’s dad had done.
“That was a really nice thing to do, Dad,” Rick said with a grateful look, as his father gave him a hug. Joe brushed it off.
“Let’s go home, we’re meeting with your attorney tomorrow, to see what he can do to get you out of this mess. And I have an idea I want to discuss with Taylor Houghton.”
The group disbanded quietly, promising to call each other once they were home. None of them had made any firm plans yet, but they had to find jobs, or a way to fill their time in the coming months, with their homework to keep up with for Saint Ambrose, so they could eventually receive their diplomas if they were acquitted. They got into their parents’ cars, headed for school to pick up their things, and after that drove to New York, infinitely grateful to be out of jail. Chase rode home with Jamie, and exceptionally was going to be allowed to stay at his parents’ New York apartment, until they came back and he went to L.A. with them. They were due back in the next two weeks, and his attorney had signed responsibility for him until his parents’ return.
Their departure from Saint Ambrose was brief and dry. They picked up their things, feeling like criminals and outcasts, and then left quietly. All of them were silent on the drive home. The past two days had been a harrowing experience. Tommy Yee’s parents did not say a word to him on most of the drive home, just as they hadn’t in court. The only thing his mother said was that he would be working full-time in the mailroom of her accounting firm and he was to practice his violin for three hours every day. They were going to rent one for him. At least they hadn’t disowned him completely, which he had feared. And after that, they said not a word.