by Ari Reavis
A little while after I’m done eating, they come and collect everyone from the holding cells and walk us to the bus outside. Sitting in that seat all along the bumpy ride feels like the Devil is driving me to hell. And the worst part is I didn’t do a single fucking thing. Yet, here I am, looking like another prisoner who says they’re innocent, riding on the bus to jail.
Once we get inside the county jail, we’re uncuffed and told to strip. It’s cold as hell in this room, but I’m somehow guessing that complaint would fall on deaf ears, so I strip along with everyone else, then receive a new set of clothes to put on. A raggedy ass pair of underwear and socks, an orange jumpsuit, and a barely hanging on pair of sandals.
After everyone is dressed, we’re walked to different cells, me ending up in the one right next to the stairs in the auditorium like block. When I walk in, a slim, tall older man turns around, a hesitant look on his face.
“The door opens at meal time,” the officer speaks his first and last words before the door closes behind me.
I look over at the bed, the folded up sheets and thin pillow waiting on the bottom bunk, and start to walk towards it.
“I don’t want any type of trouble going on in here,” the man says.
“And you won’t find any with me,” I return.
“John,” he tells me his name as he sits at the desk across the cell.
“Damir.”
“Dinner’s the worst here, so good luck with that.”
Now, I’m a little relieved I ate that sandwich. I put the sheet on the bed and lay down, staring up at the top bunk when a paper slides under the door. John doesn’t move to get it, so I do. It’s paperwork to fill out for visitation. After borrowing a pen from John, which he watches me use as if I can actually go somewhere with it, I fill out the paperwork, pushing down the anger that I even have to get visits here, and put it at the end of my bed.
The door is opened for dinner, and I grab the paper before leaving out the cell. I hand the paper to the officer sitting behind the only desk on the block. He waves me away without a word and I go to stand in the line for dinner. Even the smells coming from ahead of me are disgusting, but the look of what I think is supposed to be meatloaf is even worse. I take the tray and walk to an empty table on the right of the room. John comes and sits with me as I poke at my food. I guess I’ll at least eat the corn and what passes for barely mashed potatoes.
Thirty minutes later, the trays are cleared and the TV’s come on, playing a football game. I watch it with unseeing eyes, thinking about how the hell I’m going to get myself out of this situation. I have an alibi, but will it be enough? My thoughts still plague me when I reach my cell and lay on my stiff excuse for a mattress. What’s going to happen at arraignment? Am I going to get bail? Will I be sitting in here until there’s a trial?
It’s hard to even fathom that I’m going to be standing in a courtroom, entering a plea for a murder charge. Murder. Of someone I considered a friend. And then it really hits me, that whoever actually did murder Stanley is still out there, getting away with what he or she did because the cops are too busy trying to pin it on me.
“Good Lord,” John’s voice interrupts my thoughts.
I look up towards the above bed and realize it’s dark in the cell. When the hell did the lights go out?
“I can hear you thinking from up here.” His head peeks down from the top bunk. “There’s nothing that’s gonna change tonight, so turn your mind off and go to sleep.”
“Yeah, that sounds easy.”
“I’m sitting right where you are, so I know what you’re thinking, but it’s pretty useless honestly. All that matters is what happens in that courtroom.”
“Thanks... I think.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles as he moves fully back onto his bunk.
I close my eyes, but sleep doesn’t come for a long time. Instead I picture a beautiful smile flashing at me over a shoulder with the tip of a butterfly wing on it.
Chapter 15
I stare at the pregnancy test on the counter for the third time this morning. Telling myself I’m waiting for Damir to be here for me to take it, I walk away from it...again, but every time I pass it sitting on the kitchen counter, my stomach twists into knots. Well, part of that is probably the nausea that keeps telling me I already know what the test will say.
I’d picked it up Wednesday night just to give myself something to do other than sit in my house looking at the phone. I was backing out of my parking space in the lot when my phone had rung. Slamming on my brakes, I’d left my car half way in the aisle as I answered the call. It was Damien telling me Damir had called him from the police station, that he wanted me to know he was okay. I still don’t know if I believe it, but it made me smile nonetheless. Evelyn got on the phone then, saying Damir had asked them not to come, but she didn’t know how long she’d be able to stay away. If I have to guess, not long.
I’d gone home and gotten all of two hours of sleep before my alarm went off, and I had to get up and get ready for work. Focusing on anything in the classroom yesterday was near impossible. Matthew even asked if I was sick, telling me I looked bad. Gee, thank you Matthew, but I guess I should take it as a good sign that he cared enough to ask. Even the principal had commented on how exhausted I looked, but that worked out perfectly when Damien called towards the end of the day to let me know the arraignment would be the next day. It gave me the perfect excuse to call out sick early this morning.
I finish my cup of tea and am putting it in the sink when my doorbell rings. My eyebrows scrunch in confusion since I know it can’t be Liam because he’d be on his way to work right now. I look through the peephole and find two men in suits standing on my doorstep, one tall and lanky, the other short and stout.
“Yes?” I say when I crack the door open a little.
“We’re detectives with Franklin Police Department,” the lanky one states, then they both quickly flash me their badges. “We’d like to talk to you about Damir Lewis.”
I hesitate a second before opening the door, waving for them to come in. Looking at my watch, I have fifteen minutes before I need to leave for the courthouse.
“How can I help you?” I ask, a fake smile on my face.
The lanky one clears his throat and speaks. “We’re investigating the case of Stanley Phillips and as we’re told you know, Damir’s been arrested on suspicion of murdering him.”
“I don’t see how you could even come to that conclusion, quite honestly,” I interrupt.
“Well Mr. Phillips worked for Mr. Lewis, and may have possibly had other less than legal connections with him. Has Damir ever mentioned him?”
“Yes, he was mentoring him, and thought very highly of him. And I met Stanley at the work site.”
“How close would you say Mr. Lewis and Mr. Phillips were?”
Just the way he asks me makes me narrow my eyes. Maybe even letting them in was a bad idea. I don’t want to say the wrong thing and have them twist it into something to use against Damir.
At my silence, the detective writes something down, while giving a low hum. Then he questions, “And do you know where Mr. Lewis was five nights ago?”
I take a second to think back. “We had dinner and then came back here. He stayed the night.”
“Dinner where?”
“A restaurant called Del Monte’s. About fifteen minutes from here.”
“And you’re sure he didn’t leave at any time throughout the night?”
“Positive.”
The stout one leans forward. “And you wouldn’t be lying to cover for Damir, now would you?”
“There’s no need to lie when telling the truth more than explains everything.” I fake grin.
“Clearly you had no problem dating someone with a criminal past, so it’s not so far-fetched to think you wouldn’t mind lying for one.”
“I’m sure you can easily check if we were at the restaurant. I mean, you are detectives right? Isn’t that kind of your job?”
Stout’s eyes narrow. “We can find out a whole lot of things. Like how your brother also has a criminal past, and your parents do as well. So I guess, having a criminal boyfriend is right up your alley.”
“You’ve got me all figured out.”
“And if I told you Stanley was selling drugs, and we think Damir was the one supplying them? That this is what caused the altercation that got Mr. Phillips murdered?”
A laugh bursts out of me. I can’t help it. “Are you serious?”
They both look at each other like I’ve lost it and then back at me.
“So he has time to run a construction business, date me, and sell drugs? Oh, sorry supply drugs too? Come on. Like I said, Damir was with me. We’re together almost every night. We go out to eat almost every night as well since I don’t cook, so I’m sure you can easily find out his whereabouts, if you’re even actually looking.” I stand up and straighten my skirt while saying, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get going, so I’ll see you out.”
“To his arraignment?” Stout inquires.
“That would be where I’m going.” I give a tight smile.
“We may have more questions for you. And if you remember anything else.” The lanky one hands me a card.
I take it and drop it on the coffee table.
“So you’re going to support him?” the stout one asks. “Even knowing what he’s charged with? Several officers have told us about how Mr. Lewis can’t seem to stay out of trouble. Maybe you should be wise and keep your distance from him, especially now.”
My eyes narrow at him mentioning the officers. I can just imagine which officers, and what they had to say. Those bastards. It’s not enough that they got Damir arrested. They’re still spreading lies on top of it.
“These officers, did they also tell you how Miller harasses Damir on a regular basis? Unnecessary traffic stops, giving him parking tickets he doesn’t deserve, sometimes on streets he wasn’t even on.”
When I say parking tickets, their eyes cut to each other for a second. I can’t figure out why though.
“Did they tell you how Higgins, Miller, and other officers have consistently shown up at his work sites, threatening him and his employees, Stanley included?” At their silence, I tilt my head. “Yeah, I guess they forgot to mention all of that.”
Lanky clears his throat. “We’ll let you get going. Thank you for your time.”
I walk them to the door and take a deep breath before getting my purse and leaving out. When I arrive to the court, I’m not at all surprised to see Damien and Evelyn standing outside talking to another man. Something told me nothing was going to keep them away for long, especially not Evelyn. I go over to them, and she wraps me up in a tight hug. When she releases me, Damien wraps his arm around my shoulders, tucking me into his side as he introduces me to their friend, and Damir’s lawyer.
As we wait in line to go through security, I tell Terry about the visit I just got from the detectives. He wants to know every detail, so, with only six people ahead of us, I hurry to tell him everything they asked and I said. He types notes into his phone until the officer tells him it has to be placed in the basket when we pass through the metal detector.
Once we’ve all passed through security, Terry breaks off and goes into a side room. Then Evelyn is clutching my hand tightly as we enter the courtroom. The judge is speaking to a man when we enter the second row, Damien and Evelyn going in first and me sitting in the end seat. My leg jumps in the seat until Evelyn puts her hand on my knee to stop it. I smile over at her, and she returns it.
“It’ll be okay,” she whispers while an officer brings in a group of new prisoners.
Ugh, prisoners. It hurts to even think of Damir that way. But then I see him walk in, and even in handcuffs and an awful jumpsuit, he’s sexy as hell. He looks out over the courtroom, his eyes finding his parents first. They widen in surprise, then sadden for a moment before he gives them a small smile. Then they come to me, and he stops in his walk to the bench on the other side of the room. Even the guard gives him a little shove to keep going, it takes him another few seconds to do so. His eyes still don’t leave me though, a mix of emotions swirling in them, but the one I know I see for sure is love.
He sits down, and his eyes move over every inch of my face, then my hair that I left curly this morning just for him. I see his smile widen right before the officer stands on the side of the bench and blocks my view. My head turns to the side when I hear a sniffle, and I find Evelyn wiping a few tears off her face. Damien reaches over and grabs her hand, bringing it to his lips and murmuring that Damir will be fine.
We wait through three other people being called up before Damir. I feel like my heart is in my throat the entire time Damir stands beside Terry. The charge of second degree murder is read by the judge, and I don’t look over, but I’m pretty sure the strangled whimper I hear comes from Evelyn.
“How do you plead?” the judge asks Damir.
“Not guilty,” he states.
The judge sets a date for the trial and then bail is discussed. I barely breathe as I wait to hear the amount. The prosecutor tells a tale about how Damir has been in trouble since he was a teenager and that this was a result of a drug deal gone bad, basically the same thing the detectives told me their theory was. They paint a picture of a dangerous drug dealer who murdered someone who’d gotten in his way.
Terry argues just the opposite. That Damir has turned his life around and runs a successful business, that he was free of his past and had no reason to truly even be suspected of this murder. But I guess Terry’s words aren’t as persuasive as the prosecutor’s because the judge denies bail. This time I’m positive I hear that sound escape Evelyn again, and her hold on my hand gets so tight it becomes painful, but I squeeze her hand right back. It’s the only thing I can do to keep from crying when Damir turns around and looks at us. His face is the picture of what can only be described as shattered.
I swallow around the lump in my throat and mouth that I love him. His mouth lifts on one side into a smile before an officer comes between us and nudges him to turn around. Everything else discussed by the lawyers and judge is like buzzing in my ears. Even knowing his charges, I believed he’d be coming home today. I mean, how the hell can they keep an innocent man here?
When the judge’s gavel bangs down, my eyes leave the back of Damir’s head and go to Evelyn. Damien and I each hold one of her hands as Damir rises from his seat. Terry talks to him, and although he’s nodding, his eyes are on his parents and I. Evelyn’s head is down, probably trying to hide tears, and Damir nods towards her.
“Look up,” I whisper to her.
She sniffles and lifts her head, eyes only on her son. I look over, and he smiles at her, for her, and mouths, “I’m okay.”
The officer leads him back over to the bench where the other prisoners are and although we don’t need to be there anymore, none of us leaves. Damir looks our way when the officer’s attention isn’t on him, telling him to look straight ahead. When the group is finally escorted out of the courtroom, Damir gifts me an air kiss, giving me a chuckle that I needed more than my next breath. We leave the courtroom and walk outside.
“I’m just...” I start but any word I think of falls short.
“Yeah.” Damien sighs. “We’re right there with you.”
“Where are you guys staying?” I ask.
“A hotel not too far from here.” Evelyn answers.
“You’re more than welcome to stay with me.” I offer.
“Oh, we wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“Not at all. I mean, your son didn’t get around to fixing my house up yet,” I chuckle. “But it’s livable, at least. And I already have a guest bedroom set up. I’d be honored, really.”
“Yes. I can show you how to make some of my boy’s favorite dishes for when he gets out.”
“Well then I better get to the grocery store before you guys come.”
“We have to go get our
bags anyway,” Damien adds. “We’ll get them, and you send us your address.”
“Great.”
We go our separate ways and I get everything I can think of from the grocery store before I head home. I spruce up the guest room, trying to keep myself busy so my mind can’t dwell for too long on the fact that Damir won’t be home today. I will have to sleep alone again, nothing but the scent he left behind on my pillow to keep me company. In the silence of my house, I can’t help but wonder if the loneliness filling me is a feeling I may have to become accustomed to. If I will have to get used to wondering what Damir is doing, to wondering if he’s thinking of me like I am him. His face when he was denied bail flashes through my mind, and I have to close my eyes to keep the tears from falling.
The doorbell rings and I open my eyes while taking a deep breath before going to open the door. Evelyn walks in first, her smile seeming to come much easier than it did earlier, followed by Damien. I give them a quick tour, and Damien carries their bags to the room, and drops a few groceries bags in the kitchen before we all sit in the living room and call the lawyer.
“Hey Terry,” Damien says. “I have you on speakerphone so I won’t relay anything wrong.”
“Good, good.” Terry sighs. “Well as I told you and Damir, bail was a long shot, so we were prepared for that being denied. I’ve just received the evidence from the prosecutor and will be going over it as soon as we hang up.”
“And what’s going to happen at the next court date?” I ask.
“Honestly, that’s when they’ll be hoping Damir will except a plea. I wouldn’t be surprised if the prosecutor calls me tonight offering one.”
We all just sit there speechless for a moment.