Christy Barritt - Squeaky Clean 08 - Foul Play

by Christy Barritt

  “Why not?”

  “Look at her family. She comes from money and power.” Meanwhile, I’m motherless with a father who’s had more DUIs than I can count and a brother who routinely dumpster dives.

  “Money and power aren’t everything.”

  He just couldn’t possibly understand. I shook my head. The odds had been stacked against me before and I’d pushed through. I had to do the same thing now. But I also couldn’t deny the facts.

  “I look guilty, Garrett. I had a key to the school, gasoline cans were found behind my apartment, research about Rose was in my desk, and black spray paint was in my trunk.”

  “All those things go back to Paulette, don’t they? It was her car. She gave you the key. She knows where you live.”

  His words startled me. He was right, though.

  “Nolen is one of the best attorneys I know. He’ll look out for you, Gabby.”

  I leaned against the wall. “He seemed very bright.”

  My meeting with him was like a blur right now. He’d given me instructions and asked me questions. He was a stern looking man, and if Garrett thought he was smart then he probably was.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Pray,” I told him. “That’s the most important thing.”

  “I’ve been praying for you, Gabby.” His voice sounded husky.

  The phone beeped, and I knew my time was running out. “I need to go. But thank you for believing in me, Garrett.”

  “Always, Gabby. Always.”

  When I got back to my cell, it was well past midnight and my body felt tired, but my brain was going at full speed.

  Who would do this to me? Why?

  All my thoughts of a future career in forensics went down the drain. Being arrested and charged—even if I were found innocent—could do terrible things to my reputation.

  Down the cellblock I could hear shouts. Someone seemed to be tapping metal against metal. A prison guard walked the hall.

  The dingy, yellowed lights flickered. There was a strange, nauseating stench of urine and body odor in the air. But none of that even began to match the trauma going on in my heart.

  I’d felt fear before in my life. Quite often, truth be told. I’d been held captive by a serial killer in a shack in the middle of a swamp. I knew what it was like to be terrified.

  But this time it was different. At the hands of a serial killer, I’d feared that my life would end. Here, I feared my life being destroyed while I still had to live it.

  In the past, it had been the bad guys after me. People who seemed heartless. Who were selfish. Who wanted life their way without regard for others.

  But now the justice system—the very one I believed in, that I wanted to be a part of—had falsely accused me. Betrayal and confusion collided with despair and disappointment in my heart.

  Lord, sometimes I really feel like You don’t like me. Like You’re punishing me. Like You want to drive me away.

  Otherwise, how can you explain the trials that keep lining up in my life? Why, Lord? Why?

  I hung my head, desperately wishing I’d wake up and discover this was a nightmare. But that would be too easy. If life had taught me anything, it was that grace and mercy came moment by moment, but very rarely did they occur day by day.

  In the meantime, I was on the docket to appear before a judge tomorrow. This judge would tell me if I could be released on bail or not.

  Now, I had no choice but to wait.

  ***

  “Bail is set at $20,000.” The judge pounded his gavel on his desk.

  My mouth gaped open.

  “$20,000? It might as well be a million!” I screeched.

  “That’s enough,” the judge warned. He was a fifty-something man who was practically bald, had small eyes, and hadn’t cracked a smile since he walked into the room. Based solely on his sour expression, he probably liked to steal lollipops from kids off the street.

  Nolen had his hand on my elbow, trying to lead me away. “Because of your history with the medical examiners officer, they think you’re a higher risk. You know how to manipulate evidence and that’s working against you right now,” he whispered.

  “But $20,000?” I wanted to cry. I’d been happy to simply pay my bills every month. A savings account wasn’t even a possibility for me right now. I didn’t own a house. My van was probably worth $10,000 at the most. My net worth was seriously lacking.

  “We’ll figure out something. In the meantime, just hold tight,” Nolen said.

  “I have no choice but to do that when I’m sitting in a prison cell.” I wouldn’t cry. I wouldn’t give anyone that pleasure. But I had to fight my tears. This wasn’t fair.

  An officer led me toward my cell.

  I got back to my new home and this time, instead of pacing like a lion, I sat on my bed in the corner with my knees pulled to my chest. I sat like that for what felt like hours. My thoughts turned and turned. My future flashed before my eyes. It was filled with iron bars and orange jumpsuits.

  Lord, why?

  I guess You know all about being falsely accused. You know about taking punishments You didn’t deserve for crimes You didn’t commit.

  What had happened after Jesus died?

  He was resurrected. With His resurrection came hope.

  If I got out of here—and even if I didn’t—I needed to bring back to life the parts of me that had been withering lately. Maybe this was my scared straight moment when I pulled myself together.

  The guard appeared outside my cell. “You have a visitor.”

  “It’s not visiting hours,” I mumbled.

  “Your lawyer.”

  Nolen hadn’t told me he was coming by again. Maybe he’d discovered something new.

  I didn’t care. I just wanted to get out of this cell that confined me.

  The guard led me down the cellblock, through some gates, down another hallway, and into a contact room—which meant no glass or wall, for that matter, would separate me from my visitor. This space was reserved for meetings with attorneys.

  I stepped inside and stopped in my tracks.

  Nolen wasn’t standing there as I’d expected.

  No, Riley was.

  CHAPTER 32

  He smiled solemnly. “Hey, Gabby.”

  I could hardly walk and lost all my words. He met me, took my elbow as if he sensed my knees were weak, and helped me to my seat.

  I still felt dazed as I stared across the table at him. Riley was here. Riley.

  Finally, some of my senses returned. “What … are you doing here?”

  “Sierra called and told me what was going on. I knew I had to drive down here and talk to you myself. I found out who your counsel was and asked if I could help. It’s your decision, of course. But he agreed that I could meet with you.”

  “Wow. I had no idea.”

  “Are you holding up okay?” He leaned on his elbows across the table, his blue eyes studying my face.

  I think I nodded. “As well as can be expected. I could go to prison for one to five years, Riley.”

  He shook his head. “They won’t put you away for that long. I don’t think they’re going to put you away at all. Even with this so called evidence they have, you have no prior record and you have no motive.”

  I just stared at Riley, still unable to believe my eyes. For the most part, he looked the same as when I last saw him. He may have buffed up more. His hair was no longer shaggy, but neat and trimmed. He wore a black leather jacket and jeans. Even from where he sat, I could smell his subtle aftershave. Something about the scent brought immense comfort to my heart.

  I studied his face, looking for a sign of his injury. He still looked handsome. I didn’t see any scars, any indentations on his skull from his surgery.

  “You can’t even tell by looking at me that they took a bullet out of my brain, can you?” Riley asked, reading my thoughts.

  I shook my head, pulling my eyes away. “You’re looking good. How are you feeling?”
>
  He shrugged. “A little better every day. Got my license back. I’m trying to engage my brain more. I just took a part-time position in order to do that. Still doing therapy and working out. I’m getting back on track, Gabby.”

  “I’m really glad to hear that.” My throat felt tight as I said the words.

  “The job is pretty lame. Lots of paperwork. Too much time behind the desk. But it’s a start.”

  “Starts are good.” I attempted to smile.

  Something seemed a little edgier about Riley, I realized. I couldn’t put my finger on what. But something was different … and that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

  “I know we haven’t been in touch a lot lately,” he started, his voice softening. “My therapist really thinks it’s important that I concentrate on one thing at a time. She said relationships after brain injuries hardly ever survive. That’s why I want to do this right, Gabby. I want to fix myself before I involve anyone else.”

  Then who was the girl in the picture? If I asked Riley, he’d know I’d been snooping on him. But if I didn’t ask … how would I ever know the answer?

  “Getting you better is the most important thing here, Riley. I want that more than anything.” As soon as my words left my lips, I knew they were true. As much as I desired for things to be back to the way they used to, there were bigger issues at stake. That didn’t necessarily help me with decisions about my future, though.

  He reached across the table, grabbed my hand, and squeezed. “Thank you, Gabby.”

  “Should you even be here? I mean, aren’t you missing your therapy? Your new job?”

  He shrugged. “I suppose. But first things first. I mean, you’ve been there for me on my darkest days. I couldn’t not be here for you.”

  “That means a lot, Riley.” My heart warmed at his words.

  “I mean it. Almost dying can put life into perspective. I needed to take this trip. For me and you.”

  “Sierra and Chad are having a baby,” I blurted.

  “That’s great.”

  Everyone’s life is marching forward while I’m stepping in place. Maybe even backward. Best-case scenario is that I’m moving parallel. What should I do?

  I kept those thoughts silent.

  “Time’s up!” the guard said.

  Riley pulled back and straightened. “I’m going to do whatever I can to help you, Gabby.”

  “Thanks, Riley.”

  As I was led back to my cell, all I could think was: It’s so hard to move forward when your past constantly comes back to haunt you.

  I need a resurrection, Lord.

  ***

  I couldn’t bring myself to call Paulette and tell her that I’d been arrested. I was still too unsettled about her role in all of this. But I had to tell someone that I wouldn’t make it to play practice tonight.

  That’s why I called Mrs. Baker.

  She answered on the first ring.

  “Mrs. Baker, it’s Gabby.”

  “Hey, Gabby. What’s wrong?”

  I decided not to hold back. “The police think I vandalized the school. I’m in jail.”

  She gasped. “What?”

  “Needless to say, I won’t be making it to practice tonight.” The words sounded so lame. I might as well have told her I’d been whisked off to Oz.

  “Oh, Gabby. You would never do something like that.”

  Hearing her total faith in me made me feel somewhat better. At least someone believed in me. “Thanks, Mrs. Baker. The police feel differently, however.”

  “I’m not usually one to encourage people to give up. But I’m wondering if this whole play is a bad idea. So many things have gone wrong, and I’m not just talking about the vandalisms or Scarlet’s death. The script and music … well, they’re not strong. But Paulette is banking so much on this.”

  I frowned at the mention of Paulette. “I know.”

  “And without you for a lead …”

  “Bennie may be able to fill in for me. I’ve heard her singing and she has a lovely voice.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Gabby, I think you should know that we found out how that man in the orchestra pit died.”

  I held my breath. “Okay.”

  “It was carbon monoxide poisoning.”

  “Really?” I tried to put that together in my head, to conjure a theory that made sense. I came up empty.

  “Paulette also told me today that the play may have to be delayed.”

  “Why?”

  “The police are questioning Arie about stealing someone else’s intellectual property. Apparently, she may have plagiarized The Music of the Specter.”

  Charlie had checked out my story! Maybe there was hope. “I see.”

  “It’s a mess, Gabby. I don’t know what’s going to happen. Arie, Paulette, and I are going to meet tonight to discuss things.”

  I realized my talk time allocation was running out. “And one more thing, Mrs. Baker. Could we keep this between us? Could you just tell people I had an emergency? I need to buy myself some time.”

  “I will, Gabby. For as long as I can. But I won’t lie.”

  “I’d never ask you to do that. Thank you, Mrs. Baker.”

  “You’re welcome. And Gabby? I know this probably sounds strange. But everything does happen for a purpose. It may be hard to see, but there’s a blessing in this somewhere. Just keep your eyes open for it.”

  I’d been arrested. Riley had popped back into my life at either the best or worst time possible—I still wasn’t sure which. My business relationship with Chad was quickly disintegrating.

  Here I am again, Lord. At the end of my rope. What possible purpose could all of this have?

  ***

  Three hours later, I had another visitor. A real one, this time. Not a lawyer.

  Garrett.

  Something clashed in my heart when I spotted him on the other side of the glass. There was so much I liked about him. Yet the fact remained that he wasn’t Riley. The fact also remained that I needed to move on.

  Just because Riley had visited me didn’t mean things were rosy for our future. There may not be any “our” future for the two of us. I had to get out of the state of limbo.

  Why was life so complicated?

  I picked up a phone so I could hear Garrett’s voice.

  “I came as soon as I could,” he started. “I missed the first set of visiting hours.”

  “I’m still not sure about all their rules here. It’s been a blur.”

  “I know. What did the judge say?”

  I filled him in, ending with, “It looks like I’ll be stuck here for a while. I don’t even have any assets to liquidate. There’s no way I’m getting that money.”

  “Let me help, Gabby.” Garrett’s eyes were intense, serious.

  “I couldn’t do that.”

  “You know how fond I am of you, Gabby. I couldn’t possibly sit on my hands right now and do nothing.”

  “That’s a lot of money. Like, a lot of money.”

  “It is a good chunk of cash. But I don’t want you to have to stay here for a moment longer than necessary. This is no place for someone like you.”

  I wanted to get out of here more than anything. But there was also something holding me back from accepting his offer. Pride maybe? Independence? What would accepting a gift like this mean in the long run?

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Just a ‘thank you’ would suffice. But it’s going to take some time to get that money. I may not be able to get you out until tomorrow.”

  I thought about it a moment. My chances of tracking down the real person responsible for this crime were greater if I wasn’t in jail. I had to swallow some pride, let people help—it wasn’t something I was good at doing.

  I nodded. “I’ll repay you, Garrett.”

  “I’m not worried about it.”

  And I knew he wasn’t. $20,000 to a millionaire wasn’t the same as $20,000 to a person who was scraping by month to month.
But his offer was still generous and somehow made me feel burdened at the same time.

  However, I was in no position to be picky right now.

  “Thank you. This means a lot to me.”

  “What can I say? You mean a lot to me.”

  My cheeks warmed. “Thanks, Garrett. You mean a lot to me also.”

  CHAPTER 33

  Spending the night in jail was one of the worst experiences of my life.

  A blessing? Why would Mrs. Baker ever think this could be a blessing? I had no idea. Because I just felt like I’d been wrongly accused. I felt helpless.

  All I could do was lie on my uncomfortable bed with bars that dug into my back, thinking through all my possible suspects. Their faces circled around and around in my mind, but when the spinning stopped, no one person remained at the forefront.

  Arie. She’d stolen someone’s play, had her sights on being the lead, and had done everything she could to drum up press attention for herself. She often wandered away from the stage during practice, which would give her means and opportunity.

  Paulette’s image came to mind next. But why would she frame me? It made no sense. Of course, she’d hired me, knowing I’d be at the old school, knowing I’d be sneaking around. The evidence had been found in her car, which she had the key to. But I still had no clue as to what her motive might be.

  Then there was Roberto. I could see how he might want to ruin Paulette’s life. But mine? Why? Unless he’d originally wanted to hurt Paulette but then decided that was a mistake.

  Donabell’s husband? I really couldn’t see him as the guilty party here. He seemed like the type who’d sit back and watch the property fail and then gloat.

  I stared at the water stain on the ceiling and tried to keep my thoughts focused. When I got out of here, I needed to talk to Marjorie, Scarlet’s roommate again, I decided. She’d overheard a fight with Scarlet and an unknown person. I was certain the answers were somewhere in those details … if Marjorie could remember them.

  My mind also bounced to Chad. Again, I’d left him shorthanded. It wasn’t entirely my doing or my choice at the moment, but still—it had happened.