The Beginning of the End, Part 38

I went into work as planned, but was hard pressed to concentrate. All day my mind raced with questions. Where was he? Was there a bond amount? Who should I call? What now?

I had no one to talk to about any of this, and I was scared to death. I considered calling Nancy, but decided that may not be the best way to go. This was something I would have to deal with on my own. So during my break, I looked up the Reno police department and made a phone call.

The desk clerk was gruff but kind, I suppose my trembling voice may have softened him a bit. It turned out Marc had been released on his own recognizance, unfortunately Kevin remained behind bars. Apparently when you are not a Nevada-born resident, the law decides you are a much higher flight risk. I listened as the officer rattled off the two charges Kevin was being held on: possession of paraphernalia, and something called “internal possession.” He explained to me that in the state of Nevada, if you have illegal narcotics in your system, it can be classified as a Class X felony. My heart fell. This was really serious.

I tried to take deep breaths and remain calm as he explained that Kevin was being held at the Washoe County Jail pending trial, or until bail was posted. And bail had been set that morning to the tune of $50,000.00.

I think I caught the officer off guard when I started to laugh. He continued with his explanation of visiting hours, directions to the jail, and how to post bail, albeit with a bit of confusion in his voice. I stopped laughing long enough to thank him, and hung up the phone.

Fifty. Thousand. Dollars.

I realized that I would only need $5,000.00 to get him out, but even that amount was ludicrous. I would be lucky if I could scrape up five hundred. I had no idea how bail bondsmen worked, but I was pretty sure I would need some form of collateral in order to get a loan. And obviously we had none. Even Kevin’s car wouldn’t be worth the price of the bond.

I finished my shift and went straight home without stopping for my usual drink at the bar. I wasn’t in the mood for socializing, and I wanted to get a good night’s sleep so I could get up and go down to the jail before work. I wanted to at least see Kevin, even if I couldn’t do anything for him. I thought it ironic that Marc had been released yet hadn’t even bothered to come by and check on me or let me know what had happened. So much for the care and concern he had professed to me in the past.

My sleep was restless, and I awoke in the morning feeling more tired than I had the night before. I showered and got ready, trying to calm my frazzled nerves. I looked again at the information I had scribbled on casino stationery last night, and wondered how long it would take to get to the jail. I hoped to God the car started easily, it hadn’t been giving us as many problems lately. With fingers crossed, I turned the key in the ignition and heard it rumble to life.

It was a sunny, beautiful day, and the drive was actually doing me some good. I had the windows rolled down, and the fresh air seemed to revive me from my zombie-like state. I pulled in front of the large, nondescript building about twenty minutes later. With a deep breath, I parked the mustang and walked inside.

I had never been inside a jail before, and I wasn’t at all comfortable in this one. There were plenty of other people waiting, mostly women. One at a time, we were ushered to the waiting area after submitting to a pat-down search and showing identification. My purse had been dumped out unceremoniously, and everything inside scrutinized. The pockets of my jeans were turned inside out, and even my shoes had to be removed for the search. I felt like a criminal myself. Funny thing was, technically, I guess I was… I just hadn’t been caught.

After sitting in the waiting area for about ten minutes, I heard them call out “Visitor for Kevin B, please approach the metal door.” I stood up and quickly weaved between the other waiting visitors until I reached the door. There was a loud buzz, and then I was in another, smaller room.

It was nothing like I had pictured. It was carpeted in a navy blue pattern, and was actually very quiet as compared to the waiting area. There were a dozen chairs lined up facing glass windows with the phones I had seen in prison movies along the dividers. I was led to an empty seat, and I picked up the phone and waited.

Kevin was led in by a guard and he smiled sheepishly when he saw me. His uniform wasn’t the orange jumpsuit I had expected, but instead a navy blue that seemed more like a work outfit. He sat down opposite me and picked up his phone.

“Hi, babe.”

My eyes filled with tears at the sound of his voice. I had so much I wanted to say, but my voice caught when I tried to speak.

“It’s ok,” Kevin soothed. “I’ll be out soon.”

“No you won’t!” I moaned. “Your bail is fifty thousand dollars. FIFTY THOUSAND, Kev! We don’t have that kind of money! And I doubt we could even get a bondsman to…”

“I know, I know,” he interrupted. “But there’ll be a hearing in a month or two, and hopefully with a first offense I’ll get probation.”

“A month or two?” I felt like I had been sucker punched. “What am I supposed to do? And what about my trial? What if it happens while you’re in here? I can’t do it alone! I need you!” The tears were rolling more freely now.

“Babe, just be glad you were at work. I’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. I’ve already spoken to the public defender, hopefully things will move fast,” he reassured me. “And no matter what, I will be with you at your trial. No matter what.”

We talked a little while longer, about where Marc might be, about what to tell his boss (we decided the truth would be best – minus a few details), about changing our lives when he got out. He convinced me jail wasn’t so bad, county was actually very clean and very mellow – mostly nonviolent criminals who had just made some bad choices. He made me promise to not worry about him, to just keep working and keep living and be happy until he got out. That the time would fly by.

It seemed like we had barely started talking when I had to leave. It hurt so bad watching him walking back into the jail, knowing I was walking out alone. But I had to keep going.

The days blended together, and I visited Kevin two more times in the following week and a half. I explained to Kevin’s supervisor (and mine, for that matter) that Kevin had run into some “legal issues” and wouldn’t be returning to work. He didn’t question me, and I was glad. I had also spoken to Nancy, she was pretty sure my preliminary hearing would be taking place within the next few weeks. I didn’t tell her about Kevin, and realized that I may have no choice as far as dealing with court alone. I couldn’t imagine Kevin being released in time.

But I was wrong.

Another week had passed, and Kevin’s county visit was now up to almost three full weeks. I was working the 5 to 1 shift, and around 12:30 am my mouth dropped as I saw Kevin approaching me followed by a quite large black man.

“Hey, babe. Pay the cabbie – I owe him for the ride. And hurry home. When do you get off? Soon, right? We have to move. Tonight.”

I fumbled in my pockets and pulled out the tips I had made that night. My mind was spinning. Move? Tonight? Why? How did Kevin get out? What the hell was going on?

Kevin took a couple of bills from my hand and gave them to the man, who smiled and left.

“Kevin, what’s going on? How did you get out? Why do we have to move?”

He looked at me with eyes that seemed entirely too nervous for my liking. “Don’t worry, babe, I was released legally. Honest,” he said with a smile. But his expression turned serious when he added, “But we really need to leave tonight.”

“I’m done in half and hour,” I said dumbly.

“Good. Meet me at home. I’m going to start packing. I’ll explain everything then. Hurry,” he emphasized.

He kissed me hard on the lips, and took off, leaving me standing there in confusion. I looked at the clock and watched the second hand tick away, knowing the last twenty eight minutes of my shift were going to take forever.