Mug Shot

by Caroline Fardig

  “No,” I cried, stopping dead in my tracks.

  “They said they have evidence on me. Jules, you gotta get me out of here.”

  Choking back a sob, I took off at a run for the front door. “I’m on my way. You keep your head up, okay?”

  “Okay. I have to hang up now.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  I hung up with Pete and called for a cab. Since I was downtown, one arrived within a couple of minutes. The police station wasn’t far. While I was riding, I texted Savannah to let her know what had happened and that I wouldn’t be back. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely key in the text. She responded a moment later, saying that Carl would take care of getting Pete a lawyer, and he was already speaking to one who was there at the gala.

  This couldn’t be happening. Pete was innocent, and he was being charged with murder. My head spun, and I felt like there wasn’t enough air inside the cab. After throwing some cash at the driver, I burst out of the cab and tore into the police station.

  Frantically, I rushed up to the front desk and cried, “Pete Bennett was just brought in. I need to see him now!”

  “Calm down, ma’am,” said the tired-looking officer stationed there. “I’ll have to find out if they’re allowing visitors.”

  I slammed my hands down on the counter. “But he’s innocent, and he’s all alone!”

  He sighed. “As I said, ma’am, calm down. It might take a few minutes. I suggest you have a seat.”

  “No! I need to speak to Detective Cromwell. Or Detective Hamilton. I need someone now!”

  Unfazed by my insistence, he lazily picked up the phone and muttered something into it. After nodding a couple of times and muttering some more, he put the phone back down. “He’s still being questioned and processed, so you’ll have to wait.”

  Something inside me snapped. It was Redheaded She-Devil breaking loose. “I don’t care what’s going on right now! You get Cromwell’s ass down here this instant! Pete is innocent, and I demand to speak to someone about it!”

  I marched over to the door next to the front desk, intending to let myself in since this guy was obviously not going to do anything about it, but the door was locked. Incensed, I rattled it with both hands, willing it to somehow open.

  The officer frowned and stood up. “Ma’am, step away from the door. If you can’t control that temper of yours, I’ll throw you in lockup as well.”

  His words clicked inside my head. It seemed perfectly logical to me that the fastest way to get to Pete would be to get put into lockup myself. Then at least I could keep him company. “Oh, yeah?” I screeched. “Go ahead and do it! You’ll have two innocent people in jail, and then you’ll really be sorry!”

  “Ma’am, I’m not going to warn you again.”

  “Shut up and do it, pig!”

  That got him. The officer flew around the desk and grabbed my arm, whirled me around, and cuffed my hands behind my back. Ouch. It was much more uncomfortable than it looked on TV, especially since I wasn’t exactly dressed for the occasion. These new bracelets did not go with my ball gown. The officer roughly escorted me to an elevator and to the lower level. We went down a long, stark hallway, where I was met with a foul stench that made me gag. It was only then that I realized what I had idiotically gotten myself into.

  The officer took me up to a counter, and the man sitting behind it said to me, “Ma’am, we’re going to need your ID and all of your belongings.”

  My pulse pounding, I nodded my head behind me, to the small purse I was carrying. The officer took it and gave it to the man behind the counter. He ran my ID through a reader and put my purse and jewelry in a manila envelope. My heart sank. How could I have been so stupid? I was of no use to Pete in here! What good was keeping him company in jail? I really could have done with a little more impulse control.

  I felt like I was watching everything happen in slow motion. The officer ushered me through a nearby door, and the odor was even worse in there. There were several jail cells in a row, all of them filled with hard-living, tough-looking people. Most of them were missing multiple teeth. I was dragged to a cell on the end and unceremoniously pushed inside. Five other people shared the large cell—three men and two women.

  Whirling around and clinging to the bars, I pleaded, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Officer. Can I take back what I said? I don’t think I can handle it in here!”

  He gave me a disappointed stare. “I gave you your chance, ma’am. Now you get to cool your heels in here.”

  I put my head in my hands, trying to gather my composure. If I showed weakness, someone would surely shank me or make me their bitch. I’d be damned if that was going to happen. I was a big enough target anyway in this ridiculous dress. I took a deep breath, willing myself to toughen up. I glanced again around my cell. Most of my fellow inmates were either passed out or zoned out. If I had to guess, I was probably in the drunk tank, which meant these people weren’t necessarily dangerous, just stupid. I could handle stupid. I handled stupid every day.

  It wasn’t long before the drunks figured out there was fresh meat in their cage. One greasy guy stumbled over to me. “You a hooker?” he slurred, peering at me.

  Frowning, I shot back, “Do I look like a hooker?”

  “I ain’t never seen no fancy hooker like you before. I bet you’re expensive.”

  “I am not a hooker!”

  “Oh,” he said, showing me a semi-toothless grin. “You give it away for free, huh?” He made a move to touch me, and I planted my knee square in his groin. He dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

  “Not for you, sweetheart,” I said, staring down at him. I looked around the cell, growling menacingly, “Anyone else have anything to say to me?”

  Wide-eyed, they all shook their heads. Maybe I could handle this, after all. The guy I had racked was rolling around on the ground at my feet, groaning and whimpering. Served him right. The guy writhed some more and ended up on all fours. He looked like a cat about to choke out a hairball. Oh, shit. I jumped aside just as he vomited all over the spot where I had been standing. It was a good thing I’d already tossed my cookies and hadn’t eaten dinner, because that was enough to make me retch again.

  I went to the front of the cell and yelled at the cop on duty, “Hey, this guy puked. Can we get someone to clean it up? It’s disgusting.”

  “You’re in the drunk tank, miss. It’s what they do.”

  “Are you freaking kidding me? I have to sit in here with a pile of stinking vomit?”

  He shrugged. “You do the crime, you do the time.”

  “This is unsanitary. When I get out of here, I’m taking it up with…with someone.” I didn’t know exactly who to take it up with, but I’d at least yell at Ryder or Cromwell for a while.

  “You do that, ma’am.”

  I found a corner to cower in, and after a few minutes, the outer door opened again. My eyes filled with tears when I saw Detective Cromwell leading Pete past the line of cells in handcuffs. Poor Pete looked utterly defeated. “Pete!” I cried, pressing my face between the grimy bars.

  He looked over at me, and his eyes turned anguished. “Juliet! What are you doing in there?”

  I joked lamely, “I wanted to hang out with you.”

  Cromwell stopped to give me a dirty look. “Ms. Langley, what have you done this time?” he asked tiredly.

  “The guy at the front desk wouldn’t let me see Pete, so I took matters into my own hands,” I said unashamedly.

  “Well, that was a damn fool thing to do, because his cell is in the next block. Way to think it through.”

  I slapped my forehead in frustration. I could be a real dumbass sometimes.

  Pete was fighting back tears. “Thanks, Jules. I appreciate what you tried to do for me.”

  “I’ll see you soon. As soon as they let me out, okay?”

  As Cromwell dragged him through the door, Pete gave me one last smile. I clenched my teeth, willing myself not
to cry. I still had to get through my own time in the pokey.

  The guy who had puked was now asleep next to his vomit on the floor, and the rest of the drunks were all minding their own business. I allowed myself to relax a bit. If anyone had told me yesterday that I’d be in jail tonight, after finding a dead body and attending a fancy ball, I would have said they were crazy.

  I snapped to attention when I heard a splattering sound. Taking a glance around the cell, I found the source of the noise. One of the drunk guys was peeing on the puker who had fallen asleep. I couldn’t take any more.

  Being unable to pry my eyes off the grotesque scene, I banged my hand on the bars and exclaimed, “Are you people freaking kidding me? There’s a drunk dude taking a piss on another drunk dude in here!” I turned toward the cop on duty. “Can you do nothing about—”

  I stopped mid-sentence, because right there on the other side of the bars was Ryder. He was trying very hard not to smile. I certainly wasn’t in the mood for his shit, but I was so happy to see a friendly face that I didn’t care how much he made fun of me right now.

  “Um…I hate to ask, but why are you in the drunk tank in a fancy dress?”

  I hung my head. “Pete got arrested for Cecilia’s murder.”

  Ryder’s tone grew serious. “I know. I heard.”

  “And I was trying to get in here to see him, but my plan backfired.”

  He nodded. “I can see that. Why didn’t you just call me?”

  I threw my hands up in the air. “Does it look like I was thinking rationally?”

  The corner of his mouth turned up. “You usually don’t.” He turned to the cop on duty. “Hey, Tom, I’m going to take this one.”

  There was a buzz, and the door opened. Ryder took me by the arm and led me out of the cell, back through the door I had come in. He retrieved my purse for me and took me to the elevator.

  “Thank you,” I said quietly.

  He smiled down at me. “My pleasure. When I heard there was a gorgeous redhead in lockup kneeing guys in the stones and bitching about the nasty conditions, I could only hope it was you. You didn’t disappoint.”

  Rubbing my forehead, I whined, “Why can’t I just be a normal girl?”

  He put his arm around me. “I wouldn’t like you nearly as much if you were.”

  Ryder deposited me in a waiting room and said he’d be back. He returned shortly with some paperwork, which I had to sign. “Don’t worry. This won’t go on your record. I think Cromwell is done with Pete, so you can see him if you want.”

  “Thank you,” I breathed.

  Ryder really could be nice when he wanted to be. He ushered me back into the elevator and then down another hallway. This time he put me in a room with a table fitted with shackles. I hoped Pete wouldn’t be chained while we were in here together. I didn’t know if I could keep a stiff upper lip if that happened.

  Detective Cromwell led Pete into the room and removed his cuffs. I breathed a sigh of relief, only to feel a new wave of panic when he shackled him to the table. This was a little too real all of a sudden.

  Furious that Pete was being treated like a common criminal, I cried, “What the hell, Cromwell? You don’t need to chain him up like an animal!”

  Cromwell said gruffly to me, “Zip it, missy. If you’d just kept that damn temper of yours in check for once, it would have taken the same amount of time to get in here to see your friend and you wouldn’t have had to spend any time in lockup. Understand this, Ms. Langley: Bennett here is in a heap of trouble, and if you so much as stick the end of your nose into my investigation, I’m throwing you back in the drunk tank indefinitely. Got it?”

  I stood my ground. “I got it. But I’m going to point out—yet again—that you’ve got the wrong guy.”

  He harrumphed at me and left the room.

  I immediately turned my attention to Pete, grasping his hands tightly. They were shaking. “What do they have on you?”

  Pete grimaced. “They have my prints on the murder weapon.”

  “Well, you set up the tent and set out all of our tools. Of course your prints are on it. That’s not enough.”

  He cleared his throat. “Since Cecilia and I…um…”

  “Had sex in the tent?” I finished for him.

  “Yeah. She’s got my DNA…you know…”

  “That’s still circumstantial, isn’t it?”

  “The police know she was pregnant with someone else’s child.”

  Realizing our conversation was probably being listened in on, I chose my next words carefully, so as not to give away any details Pete had told me in confidence. “How do they know that?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they’ve done the autopsy already. Or maybe Cecilia told someone besides me about the baby.”

  “But is that really enough?”

  Closing his eyes, he said, “A witness heard us fighting that night, and also saw me leaving the tent alone during the time-of-death window. That’s enough.”

  My heart sank as I realized who the “witness” was. “Stan narced on you.”

  “That’s who my money’s on.”

  “Why would he immediately jump to the conclusion that you killed Cecilia?”

  “I jumped to the conclusion that he probably did it. We aren’t exactly BFFs.”

  “I know, but I can’t believe he’s trying to make this kind of trouble for you.” I might have been adamant about supporting Stan before, but I allowed no one to mess with Pete. Stan had just made a colossal mistake with me.

  He shrugged. “He was telling the truth. All of that added up makes me look guilty, and I’m guessing the police didn’t look much past there.”

  “Did you talk to the lawyer Carl sent over?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Does he think the police have a decent case against you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Damn it!” Lowering my voice, I said, “I’m getting you out of here.”

  “My bail hearing isn’t until Monday.”

  I whispered, “No, I mean I’m going to prove that someone else did this and clear your name.”

  “Juliet,” Pete warned quietly. “You heard what Cromwell said. If he even thinks you’re meddling again, he’ll lock you up and throw away the key.”

  I shrugged nonchalantly. “He’s bluffing.”

  “I don’t care. You’re not doing this. It’s too dangerous. And you’re a terrible detective.”

  “Hey! I won’t make the same mistakes again.” I added in a whisper, “You know I’m going to do it anyway, so don’t waste your breath.”

  He tightened his grip on my hands, and I could see the panic in his eyes. “Please, Jules, I’m stuck in here, and I don’t want to have to be worrying about what you’re doing. I have enough to worry about in here. Go live your life. Don’t worry about me.”

  Tears escaped from my eyes before I could stop them. “Pete, you are my life. Without you, it’s not worth living.”

  His eyes filling with tears, he said, “Don’t. I gotta keep it together. Don’t cry on me, Jules. I won’t be able to stand it.”

  Wiping my eyes, I said, “Sorry. It’s been a long day.”

  “Yeah.” He sighed. “I need you to break the news to Gertie. This is going to damn near kill her.”

  My heart sank. Gertie. I had completely forgotten about her. “It’s late. I’ll go see her first thing tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Jules. I’m so sorry to be putting you through this.”

  “Me? Don’t you worry about me. You focus on staying strong.” I patted his hand and smiled through my tears. “And don’t bend over in the shower.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah. I’ll make sure of that.”

  The door opened, and Cromwell stuck his head in. “Time’s up.”

  I leaned over the table and gave Pete a kiss on the cheek, whispering, “I will get you out of here.”

  He gave my hands a final squeeze as Cromwell removed the shackles and replaced his handcuffs. I kept a brave face on u
ntil they were out the door, only to collapse onto the table and weep.

  Chapter 10

  The door opened and closed again. I felt a hand on my shoulder. When I raised my head up, I saw Ryder, his face sympathetic.

  He said kindly, “Don’t worry about him just yet. His arraignment isn’t until Monday, so he’ll stay here until then. He’s in a cell by himself, so the worst thing that could possibly happen to him is that he has to take a dump in front of someone. He’ll be fine.”

  I wiped my eyes. “That’s disgusting.”

  “He’s safe, and I can keep an eye on him here.”

  “Are you trying to convince me it’s not so bad?” I asked uncertainly.

  “As far as jail goes, he has the best case scenario right now. Come on, would I lie to you?”

  I raised one eyebrow at him dubiously.

  He laughed. “Hey, let’s get out of here. I’ll buy you a cup of coffee or something.”

  “That would be great. Thanks.” I really didn’t want to go home to my empty apartment.

  Ryder steered me back through the station and into the lobby, where the bulk of my problems tonight had started. I very studiously ignored the cop on duty I had pissed off earlier.

  Once we were outside, Ryder asked, “Where are you parked?”

  I shivered in the cold air. I had left my coat at the banquet hall in my haste to get to the police station. “At home,” I said, nearly forgetting how I got here. “I cabbed it over from the gala.”

  Ryder put his jacket around my shoulders and pointed me toward his car. “You’d better watch it. You’re starting to talk like your rich prick friends.”

  “They’re not all bad.”

  “I assume your boy Stan took you to the gala,” he grumbled.

  “No, Savannah and her husband did. Happy now?”

  He opened the passenger door for me and helped me stuff my fluffy skirt into his car. “Maybe.” He got in and drove us away from downtown.

  “Does wherever you’re taking me have food? I haven’t eaten since…yesterday, I guess.”

  He glanced over at me. “How do you go an entire day without eating?”

  “Well, let’s see. I was counting on having a couple of cookies for breakfast once I got to the 5K, but as you know, that didn’t happen. Then I got sidetracked by all of the drama and didn’t even think about lunch. And right as I was sitting down to eat dinner at the fundraiser, I got the call from Pete saying he was in jail. You know the rest.”