Free The Conviction by Robert Dugoni

something to eat while I walk over to the courthouse and find out the lay of the land.”
    “I can tell you the lay of the land,” Molia said. “They arrested, tried, and convicted our sons, and when we questioned it, Judge Earl held us in contempt. What kind of judicial system are you running around here, Matt? I’ve never seen anything like this in my life.”
    Barnes scratched an itch at the back of his neck and grimaced. “Yeah, Judge Earl has a short fuse.”
    “Judge Earl is a megalomaniac,” Molia said.
    “What about our sons?” Sloane asked. “Boykin said he sentenced them to some juvenile facility.”
    “That would be Fresh Start,” Barnes said.
    “Fresh what?” Molia asked.
    “Fresh Start. It’s a juvenile detention camp about an hour from here up in the mountains.”
    “You mean a boot camp?” Molia asked, familiar with the facilities that used drill sergeants and scared-straight tactics on juvenile offenders.
    Barnes seemed to be considering his answer. “Fresh Start has certain military-style elements to it, but it also has year-round educational programs and counseling; it’s for teens convicted of nonviolent offenses or referred by their parents.”
    “Voluntarily?” Sloane asked.
    Barnes nodded. “Parents can’t control their sons; they pay to have them sent to Fresh Start to get straightened out. I know it’s not much consolation, but as far as these kinds of places go, it’s not a bad situation for your boys.”
    “Not a bad situation? They had to be in and out of there in less than twenty minutes. That’s not justice.”
    “Yeah, Earl doesn’t like to waste time.”
    Sloane scoffed. “God forbid someone should slow him down with minor inconveniences like constitutional rights.”
    “I hope you didn’t make that suggestion to Judge Earl.”
    “He said they waived their right to a trial and to an attorney,” Molia said, giving Sloane a look intended to convey that they needed Barnes as an ally.
    “And you don’t think so?”
    “Whether we think they did or not is irrelevant, Matt. These are boys.”
    “Pretty serious crimes though.”
    “Which is why it was even more important for us to be there in the courtroom with them,” Molia said. “And we would have been if one of your officers hadn’t pulled us over. If you got a complaint department point me in the direction because I have a list at the moment.” Molia said it with a smile.
    “Who pulled you over?”
    “The name was Wade, Carl Wade.”
    Barnes gave a small shake of the head and his face pinched, like he’d just smelled something distasteful. “Wade is an ass, and he’s not one of mine. Truluck has its own private police force. They have no jurisdiction outside the city limits.”
    “Yeah? Well, somebody might want to remind him because he pulled us over on the way to the courthouse,” Molia said, the situation becoming more clear.
    “What’s a private police force?” Sloane asked.
    Molia turned to explain. “Just what it sounds like. They’re hired, sometimes by a company, sometimes a private homeowners’ association. Other times it can be the citizens of an entire town.”
    “Security guards?” Sloane asked.
    “Not always,” Molia said. “They can be granted official police powers in the particular jurisdiction they serve and do things like patrol city streets, respond to 911 calls, and hand out parking and speeding tickets.”
    “So they’re police officers?” Sloane asked.
    “Hardly,” Molia said, looking to Barnes for confirmation. “My understanding is they don’t attend the academy.”
    Barnes chipped in. “They haven’t had any formal training, but inside the Truluck city limits, they’re empowered to enforce the laws. With California on the verge of bankruptcy and budget cuts in the police and fire departments I suspect we’re going to see more ofthis type of thing. Word out of Sacramento is that all of Winchester County is on the chopping block. They’re calling it a