bedroom,” Georgiana said. “Who knew Melvin was a boxer man? I would’ve guessed briefs.”
“I thought he free-balled it,” Thelma said thoughtfully.
“All right, ladies.” I wanted to laugh, but the day had gotten completely away from me. I had a lot more to worry about than a couple of sweet old ladies wanting to smoke pot, which was legal just thirty minutes away in Washington state. “What would you accept in this case?”
Thelma’s red lips trembled. “Well, we figure we’re heading to the big house.”
No way would I let these sweet ladies go to jail. There had to be some justice in my job. I tilted my head to the side. “If Melvin wasn’t home, maybe you were watering his plants?”
Georgiana’s cloudy eyes lit up. “Um, yeah. And getting his mail.” She was obviously the criminal mastermind between the two.
“But,” Thelma started to argue before her friend shushed her.
I nodded. “We’ll see what we can do.” They ambled back to their seats.
Just then, the side door opened, and the big bailiff bellowed, “All rise as Judge Williams enters.”
Everyone stood, and pews creaked behind me.
“Be seated.” The judge smiled at the courtroom as she walked to sit at the bench. Her skin was a smooth and deep brown, her lips peach colored, and her salt and pepper hair curly above the judge’s robe. “Morning, Ms. Albertini. It’s good to see you again.” Her brown eyes were sharp and seeking, and she tilted her head to the side, inviting silent gossip or even answers.
I shook my head very subtly—because I had no clue what was happening with Scot or the DEA or pretty much anybody at the moment.
“I see,” the judge said, turning to the small stack of case files in front of her, clearly disappointed at the lack of gossip. “Let’s get to business, then. Georgiana Lambertini,” she called out in a clear voice.
I turned as Georgiana and Thelma shuffled up to my table. Georgiana had donned a pirate’s black eye patch.
I shifted my attention to the judge. “This is Georgiana and also Thelma Mullen. They were charged together.”
The judge raised her eyebrows. “For breaking and entering?”
Georgiana’s hands clasped against her chest. “It was a mistake, judge,” she said solemnly, her visible brown eye earnest and cloudy. “We were just trying to be good neighbors. We’re getting close to heaven’s gates, you know.”
“But,” Thelma started, then, “Ouch!” She grimaced down at her foot.
Georgiana smiled angelically next to her. “Yeah, we were just watering our dear neighbor’s plants,” she continued, her face beseeching and sad.
Thelma hummed and fluttered mascara-caked eyelashes. “Well, all right then,” she said.
The judge nodded at Georgiana’s eye patch. “Were you injured?”
“Oh no.” Georgiana flipped the eye patch up, revealing a cataract riddled brown eye. “I thought it was a good look for the big house. You know, so the bad bitches don’t mess with us.”
The judge buried her head in the file, and I couldn’t move. The lady had just sworn in court. It was funny, but…I couldn’t move.
Judge Williams cleared her throat. “Ah, all right then. Ms. Albertini?”
For the second time that week, I purposefully didn’t do my job. Or maybe I did. The bigger picture was that I seek justice, and at the moment, I couldn’t find any by hurting these ladies. “Obviously there was a mistake made here, Judge. The state would like to dismiss all charges, so long as the defendants refrain from repeating the conduct.” I said the last with a firm nod toward the two women.
“Of course,” Thelma uttered breathlessly.
Georgiana pressed her palms together. “Yeah, we won’t make so much noise next time.”
I shook my head. “Stay out of trouble. Promise me.”
They both nodded, and Georgiana grabbed Thelma’s arm and tugged her toward the door.
Judge Williams peered into a file. “Next up I have Randy Taylor.”
Randy looked around eighteen and was still fighting acne. He ambled up, his arms skinny and his brown hair back in a man bun. I knew there were sexy pictures of guys on Pinterest with man buns. Randy was not one of those guys.
“Where’s your attorney?” the judge asked.
“Fired him,” the kid muttered.
The judge sighed. “Is there an offer from the state?” she asked.
I read the file. Randy had been caught with marijuana and then had fled arrest after punching a cop. Not good. Really not good. I didn’t like that at all. “Three years.”
Randy shook his head wildly, and the man bun fell apart as his hair flew around.