Earthbound

by Melora Johnson

  An ambulance arrived soon after, and the body was carted off to the hospital. Another police car arrived. Matt and I were separated. The door to the car I was put in opened, and a uniformed officer asked me to take a breathalyzer test. I didn’t see any reason not to.

  A Detective Darkov came over to speak to me. She was short and wiry with long, blonde hair, wrapped tightly at the base of her neck. “I’m afraid your car will have to be impounded, ma’am.” She had a penetrating gaze, as if she were trying to ferret out my last secret. I had a feeling she was puzzling over me. Maybe I wasn’t wringing my hands enough or something. I found it hard to regret an accident I didn’t believe was my fault. “We’re going to take you downtown to ask some questions, try to figure out how this accident happened.”

  Without touching her, I didn’t know whether I could trust her or not, so I simply acquiesced. I felt drained. It had been a long day.

  At the station, they put us in separate rooms. Detective Darkov sat next to another Detective, Samson, who sat directly across from me. He was tall and angular with a bulbous nose and oddly shaped ears, his light brown hair buzz cut.

  “Did you know the deceased before the accident?” he asked.

  I blinked. “I still don’t know his name. I didn’t recognize him.”

  “So that’s a no?”

  “Correct,” I replied.

  He noted something down on his paper.

  “How fast were you driving?”

  “I couldn’t really say. I never drive more than forty-five miles per hour out there, I think I was going the normal speed.” I may have been doing a bit more, but it really had nothing to do with that demon running out in front of me.

  “Had you recently taken any alcohol or drugs of any kind?”

  “No,” I said indignantly.

  “Tell us what happened.”

  I shrugged. “I came around the corner, and he ran right out in front of us.”

  “A prominent businessman in the community, well-liked and respected, running for mayor in the fall, a beautiful wife and two intelligent children, and he runs out in front of your car? Can you explain why he would do such a thing?”

  “Maybe he was being chased by a bear?” I suggested.

  Detective Samson slammed his hand down. “Or maybe you just didn’t like his politics.”

  Geez. “I don’t even know what his politics were,” I retorted.

  “Don’t pretend you didn’t know he was the Republican candidate for mayor. The local nature club you’re a part of has vehemently opposed his platform of building a new shopping mall on the outskirts of town because there are blue heron nests in the trees near there.”

  “Oh, come on,” I said, looking from Detective Samson to Detective Darkov. She just watched me impassively while her partner verbally attacked, with extreme prejudice. “I’m a member because I do bird rehabilitation, but I’ve never even been to a meeting.”

  “Who was driving?” Detective Darkov spoke up, asking her first question.

  “I was,” I said without hesitation. Had Matt said differently? I’d do anything for you, he had said. He’d also said to stick to the truth. He wouldn’t just lie. Or would he if he thought I’d be in danger in jail? I started to feel a little worried. Was I being railroaded?

  I addressed Detective Darkov. She seemed the more reasonable of the two. “Look, this was just an accident. The guy walked out in front of my car, and it was too late for me to avoid him.”

  “How could it have been reported before the accident even occurred?” Detective Darkov asked.

  Good question. “What was a man in a business suit doing out there in the road?” I countered.

  Detective Samson picked up that one. “He was changing a tire on his car. He’d pulled it as far off the side of the road as he could. That’s why you didn’t see it when you were speeding through the area.”

  “I was not speeding when he walked out in front of me. I never drive more than five miles over the speed limit.”

  “Which was it, did he run or walk?” Samson barked triumphantly, as if he’d just scored a point.

  I saw misgiving flicker across Darkov’s face as she regarded her partner, as if she were wondering what was going on with him.

  “Let’s give her some time to collect herself,” Darkov said. “Can I get you some coffee?” she offered.

  I nodded, not sure if this was an example of good cop, bad cop. “Thanks.”

  They walked out of the room, and I was left alone. I leaned forward to rest my head on my arms. It felt like forever since I’d woken up that morning. I couldn’t wait to get home, hopefully with Matt.

  I had a longer wait than I thought.

  Five minutes later, Detective Darkov returned. “Ms. Allyson Reynolds, you are being arrested for vehicular manslaughter in the death of Jason Strange.”

  I gaped at her in disbelief as she read me the Miranda rights. This couldn’t be happening, but it was.

  * * *

  The next day a lawyer arrived, bright and early. He was short, thin, and balding on top, and he wore a simple polyester three-piece suit. His light blue eyes were filled with kindness, and he held out his hand as we met in the interrogation room. I took it and had an impression of running and laughing with a little girl, hair the color of sunshine.

  I smiled. “Thank you for coming.”

  He bobbed his head and gestured to the table. “Let’s sit down. Ms. Reynolds, they have a very strong circumstantial case against you, I’m not going to lie, but Mr. Blake is quite positive of your innocence. Rest assured, I will defend you whether you are innocent or guilty; however, I do need to ask —did you intend to hit the deceased with your car? It will affect my recommendations to you on how to proceed.”

  I could be offended by the very question, but I knew better. I liked his approach. “I did not hit him on purpose. I came around the curve, and he literally ran out in front of my car.”

  The lawyer nodded. “I already went out and saw the scene. It’s clear there was very little time for you to see the man when you came around the curve. I can also tell from the scene photos you tried to stop.” His brow furrowed. “I honestly don’t understand why they’re pursuing this. Any judge in his right mind will throw it out. If it comes to trial, there will be a whole jury of people they would have to convince. They can’t possibly think they’ll win.”

  All of that sounded good, though it hinged on people being in their right mind, not either possessed by demons or actual demons in human form. I could see very easily how this could go bad.

  Best to let the lawyer concentrate on the case. “What was he doing out there anyway, a businessman in a suit?”

  “I’m told he had been to check out property he was considering purchasing to build a house, they didn’t say exactly where. It doesn’t much matter. I would recommend we go ahead and plead not guilty at the hearing on Friday, that’ll be at nine a.m., and see where we go from there. With any luck, the judge will throw it out, and you’ll be home eating dinner Friday night.”

  “Sounds good to me.” I wasn’t holding my breath. Something else was going on. They had a plan, or they wouldn’t have sacrificed one of their own to get me inside a jail. It was a fairly small jail though there was only one other person in there at the moment, so we had our own cells.

  The lawyer left, and a guard escorted me back to my cell. It was an average jail cell with room for two people, bunks to either side and about five feet in between them. The blankets on the beds were a rough, navy wool, and I briefly wondered about bed bugs, but I couldn’t stand around all day. I’d been allowed a book from a little collection they had, so I sat down on the bed with my back to the wall and flipped it open. It was a Chuck Wendig book. I’d never heard of him, but the title was The Cormorant. It seemed the obvious choice.

  After a minute, I realized I wasn’t alone. I looked up from the book to find Zyriel lying on the other bunk, propped up on one elbow, watching me read. He was wearing old-fash
ioned striped prison jammies. I couldn’t help a smirk.

  “Got yourself in a little jam, haven’t you, my darling Merry?” he asked in that sexy, soft voice of his.

  I focused on my book. I figured the prison guards were keeping a watch on the cells with cameras, but I doubted there was sound attached. I didn’t want to chance seeming crazy, and I highly doubted any video would show Zyriel on the next bunk. Hell, I doubted anyone walking by would see him. I kept my voice low. “Please, if we’re going to keep meeting this way, call me Ally.”

  He chuckled.

  There was something about him I couldn’t stay angry at. He was like a grown-up child. My tastes had definitely matured if he was what I had enjoyed in my angel days.

  “Have you thought any more about my offer?” he asked.

  “Not really. I don’t really think you’re serious, but to be clear, no, thank you.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, now think about it. I could take you away from all this.” He waved his hand around at the gray jail cell.

  I looked over at him from the corner of my eye and wanted to laugh. “How were we ever lovers?”

  “Oh, darling.” Suddenly he was naked. “When I think about how you used to…” He grinned at me.

  I shook my head and looked back down at my book. Not interested.

  “Come play with me, Merry,” he said in a singsong voice.

  My head shot up as he struck a memory. Come play with me, Merry. He would say it and whisk me off and, oh, the ways he would play with me and encourage me to play with him. I had learned a lot. I smiled. I couldn’t wait to teach some of the things I’d learned to Matt.

  “You do remember,” he accused.

  I arched an eyebrow.

  His smile faded. “It doesn’t matter, does it?” His clothes were suddenly back, no longer the stripes of the prison uniform, but rather jeans and a blue button-down shirt. He sat up and leaned forward, elbows on knees. “Oh, you’ve got yourself in a hell of a fix, kid. You do understand that, don’t you?”

  I blinked. I did, but there was little I could do about it.

  He sighed. “Watch your back. And your front.” He stood up, walked over, leaned down, and kissed my cheek. Then he was gone.

  I could not understand how someone like him had thrown his lot in with the rest of the fallen angels. There was no ill intent, just foolish desires, and lack of forethought. I’d experienced my own fair share of those.

  I read a little of my book, and lunch arrived on a tray. I supposed there was no cafeteria for such a small jail.

  Later that day, a tall, thin, balding guard came to my cell and unlocked it. “You have a visitor.”

  “Another one?”

  “Lawyer doesn’t count as a visitor.”

  “Okay.” Who would be visiting me? Zyriel had already been there, unless he had baked me a cake with a file in it, and I didn’t think that worked in real life.

  The stony-faced guard led me down the hall to an interrogation room. Inside, Matt sat on the far side of a gray table. He didn’t get up. The guard led me to a chair on the opposite side of the table. “Keep your hands to yourself, no touching, no kissing, and someone may be listening in at any time. He is not your lawyer, so attorney-client privilege does not apply.”

  Good to know.

  I sat down and tried to smile across the table at Matt. I could tell by the look on his face it didn’t come off.

  “How are you doing?” he asked quietly. He put his hands on the table, flat, though still a good five inches away from mine.

  We weren’t touching, but I swear I could feel the energy of his body, moving out to touch mine. This time my smile was real. “I’m okay.”

  “Good.”

  “Thanks for calling the lawyer.”

  “Of course, I’m here to help you in any way I can. That’s what partners are for. Do you want me to call your mother?”

  I shook my head decisively. There was no point. She was barely a peripheral part of my life, dutiful visits on holidays and birthdays. It would be better if we could sort this out. She never had to know.

  “The lawyer seems to think he’ll have me out of here in no time. There’s not a lot of evidence to suggest I did it on purpose. He said he didn’t understand why they were pursuing the case, and a judge will probably throw it out. If he doesn’t, there’s no way a jury would convict me.”

  Matt nodded vigorously, as if trying to convince himself and me. “That’s good. Did he say when the hearing is scheduled for?”

  “Friday at 9 a.m.”

  Matt nodded again. “Two days.”

  Nervous energy rolled off him like a cold breeze. I tried to console him. “Yeah, it’s only two days.”

  “That’s a long time in jail.”

  I scoffed. “I think I can last two days on hard tack and sleeping on a rack, Captain.”

  One side of his mouth turned up, but the chill I felt hitting my hands said he wasn’t relieved. I opened my mouth to tell him what Zyriel had said, then shut it as I thought of the people who might be listening and how Matt had reacted to his presence before. “Are you worried about something happening in here?” I finally asked.

  He looked at me, his face stony. “Maybe they aren’t worried about it getting to trial. Maybe they’re anticipating an accident in the very near future, inside the jail. You might be able to handle a demon on your own, but a human with murderous intent might be another story altogether.”

  He seemed miserable at not being able to protect me. I wished fervently I could touch him, and felt a little jolt escape my fingers though there was no visible discharge.

  He stiffened momentarily. “Don’t be wasting your energy on me.”

  I smiled ruefully. “Didn’t even do it on purpose.”

  He grinned. “I have a feeling you have more talents than we’ve uncovered as yet.”

  I sighed. “I wish I hadn’t started the car yesterday on the dirt road. We could have stayed right where we were, and maybe nothing would have ever happened.”

  He started to reach out as if to take my hands but stopped himself in time. “Hey, now. I promise we’re going to have more time together soon, and it won’t be in the front seat of a car. I’m not a teenager.”

  I laughed. “Okay, I’ll hold you to that.”

  He sat back, breaking our connection. Suddenly I felt bereft and wanted to cry.

  “I’ve got a few things I’m working on. I’d better get back to it. I’ll be seeing you very, very soon,” he said.

  His eyes bore into mine. I just wanted desperately to be on the same side of the table with him, in his arms. “I love you,” he said.

  I heard the last part in my head: More than anyone else, ever. I would do anything for you.

  My eyes narrowed. “Just don’t do anything crazy.”

  He grinned and got up. The door opened almost immediately, and the guard let him out, then escorted me back to my cell. “You might be getting a roommate in a little bit. Brought a woman in and we don’t have enough room.”

  Something set alarm bells off in my head. “I see.” Watch your back and your front, Zyriel had said. It might be a really long night, after all.

  Chapter 11

  It was a couple more hours before they brought my roommate in. Lula had to be close to fifty. She was short, blond, and fairly skinny, also dressed a little trashy. I had a feeling she was the type who wore lots of bling normally. She was also very chatty. I wondered in passing if it was to put me off my guard.

  I tried to think of a way to touch her, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to. She’d been brought in for prostitution. I know, I know, it doesn’t make a person unclean, but it makes you wonder where they’ve been and what they’ve been doing. Of course, I wondered the same thing about Zyriel these days. I wasn’t sure angels, even fallen angels, would be subject to the same sorts of diseases humans are. Could he pass them on even if he wasn’t susceptible to them himself? Thank God it didn’t matter anymore.

  “Wh
atcha reading?” Lula asked me when I tried to stick my nose back in my book in an effort to escape her chatty Cathy imitation.

  “Chuck Wendig book.”

  She sat on the edge of her bunk with one leg crossed over the other, folded hands on her bouncing knee. “I don’t know him. Is he the author or the character?”

  “Author.”

  “Ah, see, me? I’m more of a Janet Evanovich or Nora Roberts fan. I like the action and the romance. Uh huh, when I was a kid, it was all about Phyllis Whitney and Danielle Steele, but my tastes have gotten more sophisticated since then.” She snapped her gum.

  I looked down at my reading. My mother had always said if you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

  “Mind if I smoke?” she asked, looking around as if to pick up her purse.

  “They let you have your lighter in here?” I asked in surprise. What else had they let in?

  She tittered. “Oh, silly me, you’re right, they confiscated that.” She sighed. “Along with everything else.” Her hands fluttered to her neck then rubbed together. “I feel half naked without my rings and necklaces.”

  Was she on some kind of drugs, legal or illegal?

  “I haven’t been in a prison this small since Roanoke, but it never lasts. Buster gets me out, and we go on our merry way.”

  I wondered if Buster was her pimp. I couldn’t resist asking. “Who’s Buster?”

  “Oh, Buster, he’s my... well, sort of my sugar daddy. We don’t see each other often, but when he calls, I come a running, and when I call, he comes a running. I’m a free spirit, and my Buster likes me that way.”

  I studied her a little closer. Wasn’t she pushing it to be doing what she did? “Lula. Please don’t take this the wrong way, aren’t you getting a little old to be a prostitute?”

  Her eyes got wide, and she laughed. “Oh my, where’d you get an idea like that? I’m no prostitute.”

  Shoot. Well, she was being pretty nice about it. “Oh, the guard said.”