Chapter 7 - The Arraignment
At 2:00 p.m., the courtroom at the Gallatin County Justice Center was packed with local reporters, two deputies, and a high-priced Seattle defense attorney named Harrison Vance, whom Richard Cole had flown in via private jet that morning.
Nathan sat at the defense table wearing a bright orange county jail jumpsuit, his wrists shackled to a heavy leather waist belt. His styled haircut was flat and messy; the smug arrogance that usually defined his posture was replaced by a bewildered, petulant scowl. In the second row of the gallery sat Richard and Brenda, their faces pale, flanked by their corporate PR representative.
Judge Marcus Hollister, a sixty-year-old jurist known for his zero-tolerance policy on domestic violence, adjusted his reading glasses as he reviewed the charging documents.
"Mr. Cole," Judge Hollister began, his gravelly voice echoing off the oak panels. "You stand charged with one count of aggravated assault causing serious bodily injury, one count of felony criminal endangerment, and one count of domestic violence. How does your client plead, Mr. Vance?"
The high-priced attorney stood up, smoothing his tailored suit. "Your Honor, my client pleads not guilty to all counts. This entire situation is an unfortunate, exaggerated domestic misunderstanding. It was an ill-conceived practical joke between spouses during a heated argument. At no point was Mrs. Cole in mortal danger; my client intended to return for her within minutes, but road conditions delayed him. We request immediate release on his own recognizance or an unsecured bond of twenty-five thousand dollars."
Prosecutor Evelyn Reed rose to her feet, holding a manila folder. "Your Honor, the State adamantly objects to bond. We have secured the vehicle's interior telematics recording from that evening. In that recording, the defendant states explicitly: 'A three-mile walk will teach her place.' Furthermore, the defendant made an outbound phone call to the Sinclair service station thirty minutes after the incident, mocking the victim’s condition and instructing the clerk to tell her to walk further. The victim was admitted to Bozeman Health with core-body hypothermia and severe frostbite, requiring emergency obstetric intervention to save the life of their unborn child."
Reed paused, letting the weight of the facts crush the room.
"The defendant abandoned a thirty-one-week pregnant woman in negative four-degree temperatures with a windchill factor exceeding negative twenty, on an unlit mountain road frequented by apex predators, without shoes suitable for snow, without communication, and without shelter. This was not a prank, Your Honor. This was calculated cruelty that came within thirty minutes of becoming a double homicide."
Nathan leaned over to his attorney, his voice carrying in the quiet room: "Harrison, fix this! Tell him who my dad is!"
Judge Hollister looked over the top of his glasses directly at Nathan. The temperature in the courtroom seemed to plummet.
"Mr. Cole," the judge said, his gavel resting heavy on the wooden sound block. "In my twenty-four years on this bench, I have seen some despicable acts of domestic cowardice, but leaving the mother of your child on a mountain shoulder in a sub-zero blizzard under the guise of 'humor' takes a singular prize. You are a danger to your wife, a danger to your child, and a danger to this community."
The judge slammed his gavel down.
"Bail is set at five million dollars, cash or surety. In the event bond is posted, the defendant will surrender his passport, submit to continuous GPS ankle monitoring, and is subject to an immediate, permanent protection order barring him from coming within one thousand feet of Emily Mercer, her medical facilities, or her family members. Next case."
Nathan’s jaw dropped. "Five million?! Dad! Do something!"
Richard Cole stood up, red-faced, shouting, "Your Honor, this is unconstitutional!"
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"One more word from the gallery, sir, and I will have the bailiffs place you in the holding cell right next to your son for contempt," Judge Hollister warned without looking up.
Two armed deputies grabbed Nathan by the elbows, hauling him out of the courtroom while his mother wept openly into her cashmere scarf.
