in front of the window every night. Just the way you wanted me to. My mom caught me yesterday with my shirt off standing there and freaked out. Doesn’t this prove it? Doesn’t this prove that I love you?
Beth Crow
Wednesday, April 18, 2018
I punch the off button on the television remote. I wonder who the man is that they’ve interviewed. Maybe Violet will be able to come home sooner than later. I still have to find Violet a lawyer and find her one now. Just in case. I step out into the hallway for privacy and look up and down the corridor for any sign of Max. He’s nowhere to be seen.
I pull out my phone and do another search of lawyers who serve Pitch and the surrounding area. Dozens of names come up so I narrow my search to juvenile law and the list is cut down to just a handful. I start at the top with Anderson and Boothe Law Offices located in Carbonville. A chipper receptionist named Genevieve answers the phone on the first ring. She asks how she can be of help and I realize I don’t even know how to begin.
“I need a lawyer for my daughter. She’s twelve,” I say.
“What’s the charge?” the woman asks and I’m taken aback. I didn’t think I would have to go through the entire story with a complete stranger, let alone the office receptionist first.
“I’d rather speak with a lawyer,” I say. “Is someone available?”
“If you can give me some details about your daughter’s case, I can direct it to the attorney best suited for assisting you,” she says smoothly and I can tell it won’t be easy getting through this firewall.
“She hasn’t been charged yet, but they’re talking attempted murder,” I say, cringing with the ugliness of the words.
There is silence on the other end of the phone. I can’t imagine that these are charges that even the most experienced of lawyers see very often. Genevieve clears her throat. “Why don’t I take your number and one of our attorneys will call you back shortly.”
I tell her my number and before she hangs up I ask the question that I really don’t want to know the answer to. “Can you give me a ballpark figure of how much it costs for a situation like this?”
Genevieve is silent and I wonder if this firm has even had an attempted murder case before when she says, “Well, there are many factors to take into consideration, but on average I’d say that services will be about a hundred and fifty dollars an hour.”
She may as well have said a million dollars an hour. I’m not naive enough to think that an attempted murder case will take only a few hours. I make about three hundred and fifty bucks a week and that’s if I work overtime. In less than three hours a lawyer will wipe out a week’s worth of work.
“Thank you,” I tell Genevieve and hang up. It’s dawning on me that if Violet does get arrested I’m most likely going to have to get a public defender.
I look up to find Officer Grady coming toward us. He looks as exhausted as I feel. I wonder if he’s gotten any sleep the last two days. Good, I think. He’s the one who made Violet run. He’s the one who got Violet committed to the hospital. He should be just as tired as we are.
“Morning, Beth,” Officer Grady says. “How’s Violet doing?” he asks.
“I don’t know. Visitors’ hours aren’t until noon. Did you get your warrant and come to arrest her?”
“Listen, Beth, I need to talk to you for a few minutes. Let’s go sit,” Officer Grady says, leading the way to the family waiting room.
I’m about to tell him that there are already people in there but the sight of a cop standing in the doorway gets the couple moving and they gather their things and leave. “I’m holding off on getting that warrant but I may not be able to wait too much longer.” I drop onto the sofa and Officer Grady sits across from me and leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Listen, Beth,” Officer Grady says, “I’m not Violet’s lawyer...”
“Do I need to get her a lawyer?” I ask, panic squeezing my lungs.
“If it comes to that the court will appoint one for Violet.”
“But I don’t know if I can afford one.” My face grows hot. It’s mortifying to have to admit that I can’t