Trapped By Revenge: A Shelby Nichols Adventure

by Colleen Helme

  “We found your gun in the bathroom covered with your fingerprints. Ballistics came in showing that it was the murder weapon. You were there at the time of his death. I’m thinking if the secretary hadn’t come in when she did, you would have been long gone, but since she did, the evidence is overwhelming that you’re the one who pulled the trigger. I know this looks bad, but I can promise that if you tell us what you know and cooperate; we can reduce the sentence from murder to possible manslaughter.”

  Did he really think I’d go along with that? I frowned, but kept my mouth shut.

  “Think about your family,” he continued. “A long trial could be very difficult on your kids. You can spare them the trauma and receive a reduced sentence by cooperating fully with us. Let’s put this to bed and let Sam rest in peace.”

  His arrogance was starting to get on my nerves. I still didn’t say anything, so he changed tactics. Even though I knew it was coming I still jerked a little when he slapped his hands on the desk. Then he lunged dramatically to his feet and leaned forward to tower over me. “Shelby! Don’t you understand? If you don’t cooperate you’re looking at the death sentence!”

  “Um…could I get a glass of water, please?” I asked.

  He slapped the table again and turned to face to wall, letting out an exasperated huff, and rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn’t about to get me a glass of water, or anything else until I spoke to him. He checked his watch and figured he had at least three more minutes before someone came looking for me.

  “What I don’t understand is why you did it. Why did you kill him? Did he have something on you that you didn’t want him to expose? What was it? An affair?” He was watching me close to see if I’d flinch or something so he’d know if he hit a nerve. “A woman like you probably has a lot of admirers.” His gaze raked over me in a way that made my skin crawl, and I was starting to get mad. A woman like me? If that was supposed to be a compliment, he’d sure screwed that up.

  “Did he ask for money to keep it quiet?” He knew this probably wasn’t true since they hadn’t found a single money trail linking me to Killpack. “If he was bribing you, I can understand why you’d shoot him. It was probably the only way to keep your secret safe. Too bad that secretary came back when she did and spoiled everything.”

  I didn’t think three minutes had passed, but I was sure ready to be done. He leaned across the table toward me and took a deep breath. “If you don’t tell me now, you’ll never get another chance. The DA will make mincemeat out of you in court. I’d hate to see that happen. Just tell me what you know. If you’re innocent, what you tell me will help me prove it, and we can move on to another suspect.” That last part was a lie. There were no other suspects. That’s why it had to be me.

  He pinned his gaze on me and wouldn’t stop, wanting me to squirm under his watchful eye. All at once the door flew open, and Dimples strode in. “Shelby!” His tone was relieved, but angry. Then his gaze slid to Bates. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Just asking a few questions,” Bates replied. He knew he’d pushed the limits of his authority, but he wasn’t about to back down.

  “I’m in charge of this investigation, and you’re way out of bounds to arrest her. We’re nowhere near ready to present a case against her.”

  “That’s not what the prosecuting attorney’s office thought,” Bates smugly replied. “I presented the evidence to him, and a judge signed off on a warrant for Shelby’s arrest. Now if you’ll excuse us, I’m taking her straight to booking.”

  Bates roughly grabbed my arm and jerked me to my feet, practically dragging me across the floor to the door. Dimples stood in his way. “Let go of her,” he growled. “Now.” Bates didn’t back down and clutched my arm even tighter. He thought he had a good case against me, especially since it was a prosecuting attorney who’d first contacted him. He had the DA’s office on his side. That was huge.

  Without taking his gaze from Bates, Dimples said, “Shelby, if you want to press charges for police brutality against this man, I will be happy to stand as a witness.”

  At that, Bates dropped my arm, and I rubbed it where he’d squeezed. It hurt, and I thought I might get bruises. “Thanks. I probably will.”

  Bates stared daggers at Dimples, thinking he was blinded by his friendship with me. “I’ve already made a request to have you removed from the case. You’re too close to this, Harris. And making a threat like this just proves it.”

  “Whatever, man. This is still my case, and I’m taking Shelby to booking. So get out of my way.”

  I backed away from Bates, just in case he was tempted to grab me again. He glanced at me, thinking I’d brainwashed Harris and the whole police department. Good thing he was able to think clearly. “Fine,” he shrugged, “As long as she’s booked, who cares?”

  He walked out of the room and I sighed with relief. Dimples motioned with his head and I followed him into the hallway. “Thanks,” I whispered. “He’s a little scary.”

  “Yeah,” Dimples agreed. “Shelby, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

  “I know. It’s okay.”

  Dimples shook his head and sighed, thinking it was not okay. Nothing about this was okay. How did he not know what Bates was up to? How did Bates manage to go behind his back and get a warrant? What the hell was going on?

  “The DA’s office contacted him, not the other way around,” I said.

  Dimples glanced at me sharply, but before I could explain, we’d reached booking. “I’m so sorry,” he said again. “But I’ll be right here until you’re done.”

  I didn’t get a chance to say anything to him before I was told to remove all my valuables. The only real thing of value I had on was my wedding ring, and I didn’t want to take it off, but there was nothing I could do about it. With a broken heart I wrenched it off my finger and watched the officer seal it up in an envelope and put it away.

  Next, a female officer took me into another room to be searched and get my picture taken. Because of my work consulting with the police, they already had my fingerprints on file, so I didn’t have to do that again. But getting my mug shot was totally humiliating, and I understood why no one ever smiled. In all the mug shots I’d ever seen, the people usually looked sad, angry, or guilty, so I was bound and determined to smile, just to show them I wasn’t a real criminal.

  The officer taking my picture barely waited for me to stand in the right place before she snapped the picture, and I had to smile real quick just to get it in. It surprised her, and she was thinking no one had ever smiled in their mug shot before. I even smiled in the side shot too, and she couldn’t figure me out. I was so nice and gracious that by the time she got done with me, she believed I couldn’t be guilty of whatever I was charged with. It gave me hope that I could get through this.

  Finally finished, they took me back out to the hall where Dimples was still waiting for me. I breathed easier to see him, grateful that he was taking such good care of me. Then I heard him thinking that this was the bad part, and it broke him up inside to have to take me to a holding cell and lock me up. He didn’t know if I’d ever forgive him, and worried that I would think he thought I was guilty when he was just doing his job.

  I took a deep breath and waited for him to look me in the eyes. “Now what?” I asked.

  “I have to take you to a holding cell, but you shouldn’t be there long. Your husband has contacted us, and he’s trying to find a judge who can set bail so you can get out of here.”

  “How long does that usually take?” I asked.

  He was thinking that it would take a minor miracle to find a judge at this time of day, and that I’d probably end up spending the night. Plus the amount the judge set might be so high that getting the money together could take a while. “Um…it all depends, but hopefully in a couple of hours. They just have to find a judge. Normally there is a set amount for bail, but since this is a major offense, they have to get a judge involved.” He was thinking murder was a whole different ball
of wax.

  “But they will set bail for me, right?” I asked. He was making me worried that I’d never get out. Images of me in an orange jumpsuit sitting behind bars for any amount of time made my breath hitch and my chest get tight. It was even hard to swallow past the sudden lump in my throat.

  “Yes, of course. It’s required by law.” He led me down the hallway toward the holding cells, and my heart started to pound. I was actually going to be put in a jail cell? This was horrible! This could possibly be the most horrible thing that had ever happened to me. It could change my life forever. Even though I was innocent, people would think bad things about me, and worse, I’d be able to hear them! They’d be thinking things like, ‘there goes Shelby Nichols, the woman arrested for murder,’ and it wouldn’t matter that I was innocent, they’d just remember the ‘arrested for murder’ part.

  “Shelby?” Dimples stopped, noticing that I wasn’t right behind him like I should be. “Come on.”

  My feet seemed stuck to the floor, and I had a sudden memory of when I was in fourth grade and two sixth graders had threatened to take me to the principal’s office. I had refused to budge and they each grabbed an arm and started dragging me down the hall. After a while, with all my pulling and my feet sliding on the linoleum floor, I got heavy, so they just dropped me there and left me alone. Too bad something like that wouldn’t work this time or I’d probably do it.

  With my white face and frightened eyes, Dimples could tell I was having a hard time taking the next few steps to the cell. He hadn’t wanted to physically help me along, but he couldn’t see a way around it. He came back and put my arm through his like a gentleman. “Don’t worry. We’ll have you out of here in no time.”

  I whined just a little, and his brows drew together. “Just think of this like a waiting room,” he cajoled. “You’ve been stuck in waiting rooms before, right? That’s all this is. You can do that.”

  I let out my breath. “Okay. Sure.” His waiting room analogy was terrible. He must have forgotten the part about what happened after the wait, which was lots worse than the waiting. So it didn’t help me at all.

  Taking a deep breath, I leaned on him a little for support and made it the last few steps into the cell. As the doors clanged shut, I panicked. “Just don’t forget about me down here. I’ve heard stories where people get locked up, and everyone goes home and just leaves them there. In the dark. For days.”

  “Nothing like that will happen,” Dimples said. “I promise.”

  I tried not to fall apart completely. Or grab the bars and shake them like a crazy person. Mostly since he was also thinking I might be here all night long, but that wasn’t so bad, and I’d survive.

  Since he wasn’t the one getting locked up, it was easy for him to think that. Still, I tried to be agreeable. “Yeah. Okay. Fine. Thanks.” I smiled, but from his thoughts, I knew it came out more like a scared grimace.

  “I’m going to find out what’s going on, and I’ll come right back and let you know. Hopefully, I’ll have some good news.” He was thinking I’d be fine here, and he’d be more useful if he left. Since he was also thinking he’d be quick, I nodded and waved him away.

  Now that he was gone, I glanced at my surroundings, taking in the other cells in the room. At the moment, I was the only person here. I didn’t know whether to be grateful or terrified. My cell had a bench on the sides and at the back for sitting, but nothing else. That’s probably why they called it a holding cell, as they didn’t expect anyone to stay too long.

  I sat down, put my head in my hands, and prayed hard. There’s nothing like being in jail to make a person feel completely helpless. I tried to look at the bright side. At least now I could tell my kids what jail was like from a personal perspective. I could tell them how horrible and trapped they would feel, especially with the tight space closing in on them, and nothing but bars and walls to look at. No windows they could see out of, no soft bed, and worse, no real bathroom…only a toilet in the corner. It would probably scare them enough to make them never do anything even remotely bad.

  After ten minutes, I decided to get up and walk around a bit, since sitting on that hard bench didn’t feel so good. I found myself walking in circles and started to get dizzy, so I sat again and tried really hard not to chew my fingernails. I used to do that in junior high school, but I’d broken the habit until today. For some reason it was hard to keep from biting on something.

  Closing my hands into fists seemed like a good idea, then I wondered if I should start doing push-ups so I wouldn’t be such a wimp if I ever got in a fight. I decided then and there to take some kind of martial arts classes when I got out. If I ever ended up in jail, I had to consider that it would be good to know how to defend myself. It was easy to imagine all kinds of terrible things that could happen to me in jail, and with each of those imaginings, little tremors of fear shot down my spine.

  Just then Dimples returned. With a yelp, I eagerly jumped to my feet and grabbed the bars. “What’s going on? When can I go?”

  Dimples shook his head, not understanding how it happened. “Chris got a judge to set bail. I don’t know how he did it, but he must have some powerful friends.”

  “So I can go now?” Hope and profound relief to get out of there left me a little breathless.

  “Yeah,” he said. “We’ve got to go back to booking to get your personal things, but after that, you can go.” He opened the cell door and I lurched out as fast as I could, hardly daring to believe I was free.

  Dimples led the way and I followed behind him like an eager puppy. Although he was glad I was getting out, he worried about how Chris had done it. With bail set at one hundred thousand dollars, Dimples thought it would have easily taken overnight to get that much money together. But Chris had a cashier’s check within the hour. Who had that kind of money? Had Chris gone to a loan shark? Or worse, Joey “The Knife” Manetto? He hated to see us get mixed up with him again.

  I pressed my lips together to stop from blurting the whole sordid story. If he knew the truth of what was going on, he’d probably never trust me again. Of course, maybe he’d just feel sorry for me and then tell me to turn in Uncle Joey and let the police put him behind bars where he belonged. As if I could ever do that.

  I got my ring and slipped it on my finger, comforted to have it back where it belonged. Dimples led me up the stairs and through the building to the main entrance where I caught a glimpse of Chris down the long hallway. He was watching for me, and a relieved smile lit his face to see me coming toward him.

  He caught me in a fierce hug and, with me practically glued to his side, led me out of the building toward the car parked at the curb. It was after eight and getting dark, so I couldn’t see anyone watching, but I caught a stray thought of someone thinking I got out, and that was sure quick. I couldn’t get into the car fast enough, and once the door closed, I glanced toward the building.

  Dimples watched from the steps, and as we drove away, a woman hurrying down the sidewalk joined him. It was Billie Jo Payne, and she started gesturing in my direction. Did this mean she was going to put my name in the paper? My stomach clenched just to think about my arrest showing up in the morning edition of the paper for everyone to see.

  Chris pulled to a stop before rounding the corner, and I noticed another person walking away from the precinct. This person had on a hoodie and baggy jeans. At first I thought it was a guy, but I couldn’t tell for sure. As we passed, I tried to get a good look at his face, but the hoodie was pulled down too far. Still, something about him seemed familiar. But what? I shook my head, deciding that with everything I was going through, I was probably just going a little nuts.

  Chris reached for my hand and I sent him a grateful smile. “Thanks for getting me out of there. I had no idea how awful that would be. So what happened? How did you do it? Dimples thought I’d be there all night.”

  “Yeah, so did I,” he admitted. “But I called Manetto like you asked, and he took care of it. Arranged for m
e to talk to the judge and everything.”

  “What about the money?”

  “He did that too. It was kind of scary how he was able to pull it all off.” He was thinking that Manetto had connections and deep pockets, which made him a powerful force to be reckoned with, and not someone you wanted to cross. “By the way, Judge Jack says ‘hello.’ Was he the one you beat at poker?”

  “Yes.”

  “He opened his office to sign the order and everything. Manetto already knew how much we needed and sent the check with one of his men to the judge’s place. So all I had to do was take the order to the police station and post bail to get you out.”

  The ease with which it all happened worried him a little, and he hoped he’d done the right thing. He could have managed it without Manetto’s help, but it would have taken all night and into the next day to get me out, although he didn’t think one night in jail would have been that bad. Still, it was done now. He just hoped he wouldn’t regret it.

  “You won’t regret it, and one night in jail would have been awful. Have you ever been in jail? Because let me tell you, it’s horrible.”

  “If you say so,” he replied, a smile turning up his lips. It seemed that just because I’d been in there for an hour, I was now an expert on jail time. Still, he could think of worse things than jail.

  I pursed my lips, but since he didn’t say that out loud I decided not to argue. “Did you tell the kids?”

  “Yeah. They took it pretty well, but I still think it freaked them out a little.”

  “Oh Chris, this is awful. I feel like I’ve let you down. You and the kids, and everyone I know.”

  “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said.

  “I know, but you’re thinking I’m still partly to blame since I didn’t tell Uncle Joey I wasn’t working for him anymore.”

  Chris inhaled sharply, knowing I’d caught this in his thoughts. Instead of chewing me out, he tried another tactic. “I know. I’m sorry. I realize he’s not someone you want to cross. But I’ll bet once we get this all straightened out, you can tell him you’re done. Don’t you think? He’s sure to understand after all this.” I didn’t respond right away so he continued. “Shelby! This is serious. You could end up in prison for the rest of your life because of this. It’s got to stop.”