Free Hair of the Dog by Susan Slater Page B

Fucher had been lucky his “bank” hadn’t been discovered.
    â€œWhat should we do? This amount of money makes me really nervous.” Elaine was just staring at the table. “I don’t think I could sleep tonight knowing it was here.”
    â€œI’m with you. We need to get it somewhere for safekeeping—preferably a bank. Didn’t Joan say her brother was a lawyer and had helped Fucher with money matters before? That’s probably the best place to start.”
    ***
    Roger Carter didn’t ask questions but came to the townhouse at his sister’s insistence. And simply kept shaking his head as he looked at the piles of twenties.
    â€œI wondered where the rest of the settlement was. Fucher had made so many handouts and loans that I just supposed it had all trickled away. He was pretty close-mouthed. I knew I probably didn’t have a record of all of them. And collecting was going to be a nightmare even with contracts.”
    â€œHas there been a hearing?” Dan knew that that would determine bail.
    â€œInterestingly enough, set for tomorrow morning. I’ll be representing Fucher. I hate to think my degree in criminal law is coming in handy for a friend. I know you don’t know him but I’d like to think you concur with me that an innocent man is being charged.”
    â€œI think we both agree with you,” Elaine added.
    â€œI’m going to re-count this and draw up papers as to when and how it was found, and then we’ll take it to the bank. I know the charge is murder but I think under the circumstances, and knowing Fucher’s limitations, the judge won’t see him as a flight risk. I think we’ll get a reasonable bail.”
    â€œAny guess as to what the sum might be?” Dan was hoping the two hundred and ninety would cover it.
    â€œProbably two hundred and fifty. It’s a little high only because the charge is murder. Why don’t you join me at the courthouse in the morning? Nine sharp. I’ve got a judge that doesn’t like his time wasted waiting.
    ***
    Fucher looked almost handsome in a sports jacket and tie. Even his jeans looked neatly pressed, the cuffs covering the shackles. He excitedly waved to all his friends until Roger made him turn around. Mel sat two rows up beside a rather dapper looking older man in a somewhat dated suit, white shirt, and tie. His short white beard looked neatly trimmed for the occasion and white hair curled away from his face in a cherubic halo of fluff. The way his lower jaw sort of slanted backwards tucking in just slightly under his upper lip, Dan guessed the man wasn’t wearing his lower dentures. Must be Fred, Fucher’s friend, the maintenance guy.
    The judge was punctual but the surprise came when it was determined that Dixie Halifax, the Daytona Dog Track, and the family of Jackson Sanchez would be represented by joint counsel. Being some ten minutes late didn’t endear them to the judge. But finally, two lawyers, a man and a woman, took their seats at a table in front of the dais. Dan’s sixth sense put him on alert but he wasn’t sure why. They wouldn’t interfere with his investigation, but he was just curious as to why Ms. Halifax and the track felt they needed representation.
    It didn’t take long to figure out—after the two lawyers presented an overview of the supposed losses. Ms. Halifax and the track were looking for compensation for downtime including lost wages for employees, and the Sanchez family expected to pursue a wrongful death suit, hoping to recoup half a lifetime of unrealized earning power—lost salary and support of two children.
    Wow. Someone must think Fucher had deep pockets, Dan thought. But then the lead lawyer on the opposing team argued against bail. They did not want Fucher Crumm released. Characterized him as a threat to humanity—not in control of his own emotions. It was difficult to sit and listen to the