Black (Clashing Colors Book 1) Read Free Page A

pointed.
    Darcia walked over and now had her back to me.
    “Please state your name and address for the court record,” the judge said.
    Darcia lifted her head up and listed an address in Kirkland.
    “Miss Nilsson, I want to advise you that you are charged with theft in the third degree. That is a gross demeanor punishable by imprisonment for up to 364 days and a fine of up to five thousand dollars. Do you understand the nature of the charge?”
    Darcia looked at Michael Young, who nodded.
    “Yes,” she said.
    “You have the right to be represented by an attorney    and in the event you can’t afford one, and you economically qualify, the court will appoint an attorney for you to act on your behalf.”
    The judge kept on educating Darcia about her constitutional rights in a speedy, monotone manner before he said, “Mr. Young, how does Miss Nilsson plead?”
    “She is pleading not guilty, Your Honor,” Michael said.
    A date was set for the first court hearing and Judge Kent set bail at three hundred dollars.
    “A last piece of advice, Miss Nilsson,” the judge said. “Since the alleged crime involved theft of drugs, no sentence will be imposed in the state of Washington until a chemical dependency evaluation has been made. I would strongly advise that you start and complete any needed treatment, as it can help you avoid being placed on active probation by the court.”
    It all went extremely fast, and then Darcia was taken out again.
    I stood there a bit confused about my next move, until Michael signaled for me to meet him outside.
    “She doesn’t have money to pay the bail. Do you?” he asked.
    I nodded.
    Michael turned out to be a really nice guy; he was twenty-nine like me and had an older brother in the military who had been in both Iraq and Afghanistan.
    I don’t think it was really his job, but Michael stayed until Darcia was released and made our first meeting a bit less awkward.
    “Darcia, this is your uncle, Gabriel Thomas.”
    She looked at me with a puzzled expression.
    “Nobody calls me Darcia except when I’m in trouble,” she said. “People call me Black.”
    “Hello, Black.” I offered her my hand and she hesitated for a few seconds before she shook it. “Nobody calls me Gabriel except my mom; feel free to call me G or Thomas.”
    “Nice uniform, G,” she said dryly.
    I didn’t comment on that.
    “Do any of you have any last questions for me?” Michael asked.
    Darcia, who reminded me of a Goth chick I used to know in high school, put her hands in the pockets of her black military pants. “What did the judge mean when he talked about the chemical evaluation thingy?” she asked.
    “Oh, yes, I should have mentioned it myself, but he’s absolutely right. Since you were caught with drugs and alcohol in your backpack, the judge is going to want a chemical dependency evaluation. No matter what category you’ll be placed in, it’s a good idea to do the counseling now.”
    Darcia gave Michael a dirty look. “Counseling? Nah, I don’t think so.”
    “I’m afraid that’s not really up to you, since it will undoubtedly be part of your sentence. Either you get it done now, before the first court hearing in a month, or you wait and get placed on active probation by the court.”
    “Why would I do it now?” she asked.
    “Because showing the judge that you take this seriously and want to change your ways could potentially keep you out of jail.”
    Darcia seemed to be thinking hard.
    “And it can save you a pile of money in probation fees,” Michael added.
    Darcia was focusing only on Michael when she spoke. “So you want me to go to AA meetings, is that it?”
    “A support group is good, but you need counseling or therapy to impress the judge. Let me give you the number to a phenomenal place that has turned people around in a matter of weeks. Their methods are supposedly a bit unorthodox, but one of the judges referred a client of mine to this place six months ago, and he became