by Stacy Eaton
“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t tell you any more than I have,” the cop said to me.
“What about my mom?” Maggie was straining against the grasp that one of the cops had on her.
I stepped forward. “Maggie, you have to go with them.”
“But what about my mom?” Her eyes began to water, and I cupped her face. The purple nitrile glove that I wore was so vastly different from her pale skin.
“I got her, Mags. Don’t worry about her. You go with them; I’ll take care of your mom, and we’ll figure this out.”
“Thank you. Greg, I didn’t do anything,” she said in a plea-filled voice.
“I know you didn’t, baby.” I brushed a quick kiss over her forehead before I stepped back, and they took her away.
“Is my daughter a criminal?” Mrs. Valor’s voice seemed unusually frail.
“No, Mrs. Valor, Maggie is not a criminal. The police have the wrong information.”
“Yeah, and we need to figure out what is going on. Maybe that box has something to do with it. Should we have told the cops about that?”
“No, not until we know what’s inside.”
As we went back into the kitchen, Trevor pulled out his phone and turned on the video so we could record what was inside the box. He took a video of Maggie’s kitchen first and then the box as I began to cut open the sides.
I peeled back the edge carefully, wondering if something would go boom, but it didn’t. Inside was a dead rat, and I growled, “Who the fuck sent her a rat?”
“Is there really a rat in there?” Mrs. Valor asked as she got closer, craning her neck to see.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She peered into the box and wrinkled her nose. “What is my daughter involved in that she gets arrested and someone sends her a rodent?”
“I don’t know, ma’am, but we will figure it out.”
She sat at the table, and I found an extra-large ziplock bag to put the entire box into. Trevor searched under the sink to find cleaners, and the two of us cleaned the counter.
“What are we going to do about Maggie?”
“I need to get down there, but I’m not sure what to do with,” I tipped my head to the side as I spoke softly.
“You go, I’ll ask Davina to come over, and we can stay here with her. I bet Mrs. Valor will love to meet Devon.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Not at all.”
Mrs. Valor was staring at her plate of food that looked virtually untouched.
“Do you want me to warm that up for you?” I asked.
“I’m afraid that I don’t like eating alone.” She frowned. “At least, I think I don’t like eating alone.”
I glanced at Maggie’s plate. “How about I eat Maggie’s with you? I didn’t get a chance to eat yet, and I’m pretty hungry.”
Mrs. Valor beamed at me. “That would be nice, but what about Maggie?”
“I’ll stop and get her a sandwich on my way to see her. Trevor and his fiancée are going to stay here with you while I get things figured out.”
She eyed Trevor as I put her plate in the microwave. “So, you’re engaged?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Trevor said and grinned. “And we have a little boy. You’ll get to meet him in a few minutes.”
She turned to study me. “And you? Are you married?”
“No, Mrs. Valor, I’m not.”
“But you like Maggie? Don’t you? You kissed her forehead before the police left with her.”
I swallowed. “I do like your daughter. I like her very much.” Maybe way too much, I said the last bit to myself as Trevor smirked at me.
“And does she like you?”
I forced myself not to look at Trevor. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask her.”
The microwave dinged, and I removed her plate before I began to warm up Maggie’s plate. Trevor stepped out of the kitchen to call Davina, and when he came back, I was halfway through the plate of food.
“Davina will be over in a few minutes. She just finished bathing Devon.”
“Okay, and you really don’t mind staying here to keep Mrs. Valor company?”
“Not at all,” he said as he took a seat on the other side of the table. “Go find out what’s going on. Why do you think they suspect her of being involved?”
“I have no idea,” I fretted. “I can’t think of one thing that would suggest that she was involved, other than she’s Maggie, and she is always getting herself in trouble.”
“Well, hopefully, they will tell you something.”
“Yeah, I hope so.” I took my plate to the sink. “Mrs. Valor, it was nice to see you again. I’ll make sure that Maggie gets home safely tonight.”
“Alright, thank you,” she replied and tried to smile at me.
What must be going through her mind? She didn’t know any of us, or she did, but she couldn't remember us. What did she think of all of this? Of dead rats delivered in boxes without labels, and a woman who was supposed to be her daughter arrested? Or even of strange men being in her house?
I could not comprehend how confusing all of that might be to her. As I drove toward the police station, I wondered how Maggie handled it day after day. On my way, I stopped at the deli and picked Maggie up a sandwich, a small bag of chips, a big chocolate chip cookie, a small bottle of orange juice, and a large bottle of water. I was starving when I had arrived at her house; I could just imagine how damn hungry she might be after today.
Inside the station, I waited behind another man who was talking to the desk sergeant through the thick glass. When he finished, I shuffled to the window. “I’m Gregory Blaire, I’d like to speak to Detective Highmore about the woman he is interviewing, Maggie Valor.”
“If he’s interviewing her, then he won’t be able to speak with you. You can have a seat over there and wait until he’s available.”
I lifted the bag of food. “You are going to want to bring this food back to him right away. I know for a fact that Maggie has not eaten today and has blood sugar issues. If you don’t feed her, you’re asking for trouble.”
He pursed his lips and pointed to the side door. I met him at the door and handed over the bag, where he immediately looked inside. “I’ll take this back to him. Have a seat.”
I wanted to push him out of the way and find Maggie myself, but I didn’t. Instead, I took a seat and pulled out my phone as it vibrated to see a text from Jake.
Maggie was arrested? WTF?
I don’t know the details. I’ll let you know once I have them.
You do that.
It was about five minutes later when the detective came to the door. “Mr. Blaire, come on back.”
“Are you done with Maggie?” I asked as soon as I was through the door.
“No, not yet. I’m letting her eat. Thanks for bringing her something. She actually just told me that she needed something to eat before her blood sugar crashed.”
“Yeah, it’s not pretty. Maggie has been hypoglycemic her whole life.”
“How long have you known her?”
“Since she was fifteen. We dated in high school, but broke up after I joined the Marines and prepared to deploy overseas.”
“Ah, so that’s how you two know each other so well.”
“Yeah, although that day of the robbery was the first time that I had seen her in nineteen years.”
He studied me for a moment. “Did she act like she knew those men in any way?”
“No. Maggie was just as surprised and scared as the rest of the people in the café. She didn’t act any differently. What makes you think that Maggie knew the two men?”
He watched me for a few seconds as if he was trying to decide on something. Finally, he sighed and pointed at a chair next to his desk.
“Forensics found her fingerprints on the vehicle driven by Len and Chuck.”
“What?” I barked. “That has to be wrong. Why the hell would her fingerprints be on the vehicle? Wait, where on the vehicle?”
&
nbsp; “On the driver’s door, and inside the vehicle on the seat.”
What the hell? How was that possible? Could Maggie be involved with those people?
“I know you haven’t seen her in a while, but do you know if maybe she is in debt or needs money for something? Maybe she got involved with them because of that.”
“Are you kidding? There is no way that Maggie would do something like that. No matter what her financial state, and I have no clue what her current state is, but I know Maggie.”
“Alright, then can you think of a reasonable explanation why her fingerprints are outside and inside the car?”
“No,” I said gruffly, “but I sure would like to learn the reason. My boss, Jake Taite, was considering hiring her to work for us. If she’s into something bad, the last thing he is going to want is her working for our company.”
Damn her. What the hell had Maggie done?
“Okay, well, if you want to watch the interview, you can view it from the back room. I’m having a hard time believing that she’s involved, but I don’t have any explanation on the prints.”
“Yeah, neither do I. I appreciate you letting me watch.”
He showed me back to the room, and Maggie was just finishing her sandwich. The cookie and juice were already gone, but I had figured they would have been first so that she got the sugar into her system.
Det. Highmore settled into the seat across from her. “Are you feeling better now?”
“Yes, thank you so much. I was about to hit the floor, and it would not have been pretty.”
I glanced under the table and saw her feet were bare. Damn, I hadn’t even noticed that when they took her away.
“Alright, Maggie, I need to ask you how you were involved with Jefferson Lenard Bunker and Chuck Wiggis.”
“I wasn’t involved with them, Detective. I have never seen them before that day.”
“Did you hire them to do the robbery for you?”
“What? No! I had nothing to do with the jewelry store robbery. Why would you even think that?”
“If you had nothing to do with it, can you please tell me how your fingerprints came to be on the car door, the handle, and the interior of the vehicle that those two men were driving?”
Her eyes went wide as she muttered, “Oh, shit!”
Chapter Twenty
Maggie
I was extremely confused and afraid as we pulled up to the police station. The two cops told me nothing about why I was being brought in for questioning, or why they thought I could be involved with the robbery and kidnapping.
My mind was spinning as they parked inside a cinder block garage, and the door went down behind us. After the door was closed, one of the officers opened the back door and undid my seat belt. I stared at my bare feet as I put them on the cement outside the door. They could have at least let me put shoes on.
One of the officers took me by the elbow. His touch was firm, but not harsh as he led me to a door. A buzzer went off, and the door opened. I was brought into a room where there was a bench, a computer, a fancy camera, and another police officer. On the bench was an older man who reeked of booze and urine.
“Have a seat,” my new cop buddy said, and I cringed as I sat as far to the right as I could. He squatted beside me and put a cuff around my ankle.
“Are you serious? I’m not going anywhere! You don’t have to do that.”
“It’s for your safety and ours, ma’am,” he said. “Now, stay here for a few minutes, and I’ll let Detective Highmore know that you are here.”
I lifted my foot as far up as it would go. “Yeah, like I can go anywhere.”
The guy next to me chuckled.
The two officers that brought me in disappeared through another door. I stared at the dirty floor and my bare feet. Holy cow, I would never get my feet clean enough again. My stomach rumbled so viciously that the officer six feet away turned with a raised brow, and the drunk next to me cackled again.
I sure hoped that the detective let me eat something. How long did I have to be in their custody before they would feed me? If I didn’t eat soon, I was going to crash. I was already starting to feel slightly light-headed, and soon, I’d start seeing spots and break out in a sweat. It wouldn't be long after that that I would pass out.
Maybe if I passed out, they would take me to the hospital, and I wouldn’t have to deal with this mess. Although I was interested to learn why they thought I was involved. Had someone told them that I was? Did they capture Len yet? Maybe he said that I was involved, but why? What was Greg thinking? Was my mom alright? Was Trevor going to change his mind about me?
There was a clock on the wall across from me. It was white and black and had a secondhand that I watched go around and around as I counted the minutes, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, and ran through a zillion questions in my mind. If I wasn’t watching the clock, I was watching the officer as he worked on the computer in the corner of the room. The guy beside me was quiet, and when I glanced his way, he looked like he was asleep. I went back to staring at the clock, and the door opened again at twenty-three minutes. One of my arresting officers sauntered back in, smiled at me, and then uncuffed my ankle again. “Come on.”
He took me through another door and down a hallway. Inside a small room stood a table and two chairs. He uncuffed one of my wrists and shifted the cuff to an eyebolt in the center of the table. I rolled my eyes.
“The detective will be in shortly.”
“Thank you,” I said to him as he left. Not that I had a reason to thank him, but it was just common courtesy to say it. He gave me a kind smile as he closed the door.
I shivered as I sat in the chair. I was only wearing a thin t-shirt and leggings, and it was freezing in the room. My body was going to rush through the last of my energy pretty fast to keep myself warm.
By the time the detective entered, my teeth were chattering. “Hello, Ms. Valor.”
“Detective.”
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“I’m freezing, and I’m starving. Your officers could have given me a chance to eat my dinner and put on shoes before they hauled me out of my house for no reason.”
He stuck his head back out the door, messing with something in the hallway, and the air vent above my head stopped blowing straight down on me. Oh, thank god!
“There, that should make it a little more comfortable for you.”
“Do you have a switch you can flip that will deliver food too? If I don’t eat something soon, I’m going to pass out literally. I am hypoglycemic, and I haven’t eaten in several hours. I was just sitting down to eat when your officers arrived.”
“We’ll get you something soon.”
“It needs to be sooner than later; I’m serious that I’m going to pass out. I’m already dizzy and feeling sick to my stomach.”
There was a knock at the door, and then it opened. The cop outside ticked his head to the side as if he wanted the detective to join him. “Excuse me for a moment.”
“Find me some food while you are out there,” I told him, and he glanced back and closed the door without a word. A minute later, he came back with a bag and set it down on the table.
“Here you go.”
“Holy crap,” I said as I dumped out the contents of the bag. The bottle of water began to roll away, and the detective stopped it as I went straight for the orange juice and cracked it open with shaking hands. I guzzled half of it before I snatched the cookie. My hands were still shaking, and I had spots on the edge of my vision as my brow broke out in a sweat.
The detective took the cookie out of my shaking hands and tore open the package. I shoved the cookie into my mouth, scarfing it down as quickly as I could. I groaned as I swallowed and took another mouthful.
“I’m going to give you a few minutes to eat, and then I’ll be back in.”
I nodded to him, too focused on the food to care what he did. After he left, I finished my cookie, then unrolled the sandwich, and almost cried when I s
aw that it was turkey with swiss on a Kaiser roll with mayo and tomato. I flipped the bag of chips over and saw they were sour cream and onion. I laughed to myself because I knew who had brought me this meal.
The cops hadn’t bought this for me, Greg had. Gregory knew that I loved turkey and swiss. He knew that my favorite bread was a Kaiser roll. He also knew that I would have needed a sugar fix and that I detested sour cream and onion chips—but he didn’t. That’s why he got them to let me know that he was here.
But if he was here, who was with my mother? That thought set my nerves on edge, but I knew that Greg would never leave my mother to fend for herself. She had to be safe. Maybe Trevor was with her. Hopefully, Trevor was with her, and she wasn’t out in the lobby of the police station.
I was just finishing my sandwich and rolling up the deli paper when the door opened and Det. Highmore returned. “Are you feeling better now?”
“Yes, thank you so much. I was about to hit the floor, and it would not have been pretty.”
He gave me a casual smile and nodded. “Alright, Maggie, I need to ask you how you were involved with Jefferson Lenard Bunker and Chuck Wiggis.”
“I wasn’t involved with them, Detective. I have never seen them before that day.” Why did they think otherwise?
“Did you hire them to do the robbery for you?”
“What? No! I had nothing to do with the jewelry store robbery. Why would you even think that?”
“If you had nothing to do with it, can you please tell me how your fingerprints came to be on the car door, the handle, and the interior of the vehicle that those two men were driving?”
Suddenly it dawned on me. “Oh, shit!”
“Yes, oh, shit. Now would you like to explain?”
I winced as I cocked my head to the side. “There is a simple explanation, Detective.”
“And I’m waiting.”
“That day, I was walking to the coffee shop, and remember I told you that I had seen Len walking into the jewelry store. We crossed paths on the sidewalk.”
“Yes, you helped build a composite sketch of him.”
“Yes.” I slapped my hand on the table. “After he walked past me, I looked to the curb to see their vehicle, and it was still running, but there was no one at the wheel. So I went over to the car and looked inside. When I didn’t see anyone in the back seat either, I went around the car, opened the door, and removed the keys. I bet you found the keys in the back cargo area, right?” I waited for a reaction from him but didn’t get one. “I threw the keys back there. I almost threw them in the street, but I tossed them into the back instead.”