6
The door opened. A woman in an orange cotton dress glared at me through the security screen door. Her face was bony, with eyes the color of steel and every bit as cold. “Can I help you?” she snarled.
“You Mrs. Pratt?”
“Yes, I’m Linda Pratt.”
I recognized her name from the application. “Your husband missed his court date. He needs to come with me. Now.”
“He ain’t here.”
“Bullshit. His car’s in the driveway.”
“My son’s borrowing it. My husband’s in our minivan.”
“And where is your husband?”
“Why should I tell you?”
“Because if the bond is forfeited, Assurity Bail Bonds takes your house and kicks you out on the street.”
“This is all such bullshit. My husband was defending himself after that wetback assaulted him.”
“Ma’am, I’m not here to try him. He and his lawyer can do that wh
