Chapter 7 - THE DEPOSITION
Two months later, in late March, the grand conference room at Vance, Sterling & Croft was filled with morning sunlight.
Sitting across the long glass table was Patricia Kincaid, dressed in a gray prison jumpsuit, her hands loosely cuffed at her wrists, her hair gray and unstyled. Next to her sat Arthur Sterling, a high-priced criminal defense lawyer whose expression was grim and thoroughly exhausted.
Daniel sat next to his mother, wearing an orange jumpsuit. His face was thin, his eyes hollow, his arrogant swagger replaced by a nervous, twitching panic.
I sat at the head of the table beside Marcus Vance and the Assistant District Attorney, Thomas Cole.
This was a formal Rule 11 Plea Negotiation Conference—their last chance to take a plea deal before the formal criminal trial began in May.
Thomas Cole opened a thick blue folder, sliding a three-page legal document across the glass table toward Arthur Sterling.
"Here are the terms of the State's final plea offer," Thomas Cole stated coldly.
Arthur Sterling put on his glasses, reading through the terms while Daniel leaned over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the lines frantically.
"Count One: Grand Larceny," Sterling read aloud. "Daniel Kincaid will plead guilty, serving a mandatory minimum sentence of eight years in state prison."
Daniel gasped, clutching his lawyer's sleeve. "Eight years?! Arthur! You said I'd get probation!"
"Shut up, Daniel," Sterling snapped under his breath, continuing to read. "Count Two: Real Estate Fraud and Forgery. Patricia Kincaid will plead guilty, serving a mandatory minimum sentence of four years in state women's correctional facility."
"Four years?!" Patricia shrieked, her voice cracked into a high, raspy scream. "I'm sixty-eight years old! I can't go to prison! I'm a member of the Symphony Board!"
"You were a member of the Symphony Board, Mrs. Kincaid," Thomas Cole corrected her without a trace of mercy. "Until your board position was terminated following your indictment for felony extortion."
"What about our assets?" Daniel begged, leaning across the table toward Marcus Vance. "My contracting firm! My equipment! My mother's house in Upper Arlington!"
Marcus Vance leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, looking at Daniel with ice in his eyes.
"Every asset owned by Kincaid Contracting has been liquidated under Chapter 7 involuntary bankruptcy," Marcus explained smoothly. "The proceeds—totaling seven hundred and twenty thousand dollars—have been placed into a restitution trust for Emily Lawson to compensate her for personal damages, legal costs, and medical treatment."
"You took my business?!" Daniel roared, trying to stand up, but the bailiff behind his chair placed a heavy hand on his shoulder, forcing him back down.
"And Patricia's house in Upper Arlington," Marcus added, sliding another document across the table, "was seized yesterday under the Civil Forfeiture Act, as it was used as collateral for the fraud LLC loan."
Patricia dropped her head onto the glass table, weeping loudly, her frail body shaking beneath the coarse orange fabric of her prison jumpsuit.
"If you refuse this plea deal," Thomas Cole warned, "we go to trial on May twelfth. With the audio recording, the medical evidence, the notary's testimony, and the bank records, I will seek the maximum sentence: twenty years for Daniel, and twelve years for Patricia."
Arthur Sterling looked at his clients, then slowly took off his reading glasses.
"Sign the deal, Daniel," Sterling whispered grimly. "Sign it, Patricia. If you go before a jury in this county with that mother on the witness stand, you will die in prison."
Daniel looked across the table at me.
I sat perfectly still, my arms crossed, my expression completely unreadable.
May you like
He saw no pity in my eyes. He saw no weakness. He saw the cold, unyielding wall of justice that he had brought upon himself the moment he put his hands on my daughter.
Slowly, with trembling fingers, Daniel picked up the pen and signed his name on the dotted line.
