by Ellen Butler
She answered in the middle of the first ring. “Karina! Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours!”
“I took a class and the phone was buried at the bottom of my gym bag.” The metal security gate slowly drew back and I pulled out onto the street. “What’s up?”
Jillian described a rather bizarre story about her work friend who was arrested for stealing $100,000 worth of diamonds from the jewelry store she moonlighted at on the weekends.
“Did she do it?” I asked.
“Of course not! Sadira’s a scapegoat,” my sister defended.
“But you said there was video.”
“Not of her actually stealing the diamonds. The owner claims she was the last to handle them, but that guy is kind of shifty. I think there’s something more to this.”
“Okay. What do you want me to do about it?” I rolled to a stop at a red light.
“Well, first of all, you need to come to the station and be her attorney for the arraignment.”
“Uh, Jillian. You know I’m not that kind of attorney. I’m a lobbyist, I’m not skilled in criminal trial law.”
“You’ve got to be better than any public defender,” Jillian pleaded.
“Not necessarily.” I drew the car to a halt. A large dump truck was stalled in my lane and half a dozen cars had lined up as each driver waited for a break in traffic to navigate around it on the two-lane road.
“You’re licensed in Virginia, right?”
“I am. But, Jilly, you’re not listening. I’m not that type of lawyer. I could end up making it worse for your friend.”
“Nonsense. It’s an arraignment. How hard can it be? Besides, you owe me. I’m calling in my chip.”
I inhaled sharply.
My sister continued with a new edge to her tone, “That’s how this works with your politicians, right? When someone owes you and you need a favor, you tell them you’re calling in your chip? Well, that’s what I’m doing now. It’s time to pay up.”
“Whoa, Jilly, take a breath. You don’t need to call in your ‘chip.’ I didn’t say I wouldn’t help. What I’m saying—I may not be the best person to help your friend. When is the arraignment?”
“Lord only knows. This place seems to work at snail speed. They said an hour, but that was almost an hour ago. How soon can you get here?”
“Where are you?” I tailed a large white Cadillac around the truck.
“Fairfax police station off Route 50. Where are you?”
“I’m in D.C. Oh, come on! Move it, slowpoke!” I hollered, gripping the steering wheel as the white car puttered ahead of me below the speed limit. “It’ll take me a while to get out there. Here’s what I can do—I’ll help her with the arraignment and get her bonded out. Then, I have a good attorney who handles criminal cases that I can put your friend in contact with, because, beyond the arraignment, I am way out my league.”
“Okay, that sounds like a good plan,” Jillian conceded.
“Why don’t you text me the address, and I’ll get there as soon as possible. If they call her for arraignment, make sure she tells them that her lawyer is on the way and request extra time.”
“Will do. See you soon.”
Chapter Four
Jillian rushed at me, her straight, dark hair flying, as I walked through the precinct door. “You are not going to believe this.” She grabbed my arm, spun me around, and escorted me back out the door, finally stopping beneath a large oak tree.
“What’s up? Did I miss the arraignment?”
“No. She’s not getting arraigned today. The diamonds are worth too much. It’s a case of felony larceny or some such nonsense, and she’s going to have to wait until Monday to see the judge, in court.”
I grimaced. “I was afraid of that.”
“You knew?”
“Not exactly, but one hundred K is a lot of dough. Have the police found the diamonds yet?”
Jillian explained how one of the “supposedly” missing diamonds had been found on the ground at Sadira’s feet. “But I’m not so sure Sadira’s accusation was incorrect. That Tazim guy seems a little squirrelly to me. And it did seem like he deliberately knocked her bag to the floor.”
“Have they let you speak to her?”
Jillian shook her head. “Lawyers only.”
“Okay. I’ll go in and see what I can find out.”
Once I established myself as Sadira’s lawyer, a tall, blonde officer with a nametag that read Shandlin led me through a maze of cubes to a heavy black door. The woman knocked twice.
A silver-haired detective in a black button-down with his badge clipped onto a pair of gray dress slacks opened the door to the interrogation room. “Officer Shandlin?”
“This lady is her lawyer,” the officer said.
His gaze flicked up and down, taking in my jeans and T-shirt.
“Hi, detective.” I held out my hand. “Karina Cardinal. I’d like to speak with my client.”
The detective gave me an abrupt handshake and opened the door wide, allowing me to enter.
I found Jillian’s fashionably dressed friend cuffed to the metal table. “Are those really necessary? She’s not been charged with a violent crime.”
The detective removed the cuffs and remained standing next to the table.
“I’d like to speak with my client. Alone.”
“You’ve got ten minutes.” The detective pulled open the door.
“She’s my client. I’ll take as long as I need,” I replied imperiously.
“Okay, but the next guy we’re bringing in is here on murder two charges. It might get crowded.”
My jaw dropped as the door slammed shut. With a shake of my shoulders, I turned to my client. “Hi, Sadira. I’m Jillian’s sister, Karina Cardinal.” Placing my phone on the table, I slipped into the seat opposite Sadira.
“Thank the lord you’re here.” She rubbed her wrists. My first impressions were of an exotic-looking young woman. Her eye makeup was smudged, and her red-rimmed eyes looked as though she’d been crying. “They k-kept asking me all these questions about the d-diamonds,” she sniffed.
“Did you answer them?”
Her foot jiggled and she shook her head. “Nope. They kept saying it would go better for me if-if I cooperated. But I-I asked for a lawyer and kept my mouth shut.” The stutter seemed to be a direct result of her anxiety.
I ground my teeth. They should have stopped asking questions as soon as she requested a lawyer. “Good for you. My sister told me a little about your situation. Can you explain the diamond that fell out of your purse?”
She frowned. “It didn’t ‘fall out’ of my purse. I’m pretty sure Tazim dropped it when he knocked my purse to the floor.”
“Why would he do that? Does he hold a grudge against you?”
“I have no idea why he would do it.” The stutter disappeared with Sadira’s anger. “I really don’t know all that much about my boss. He comes in, we work, we leave. That’s it.” She made a slashing motion with her hand. “It’s not like he’s a great conversationalist.”
“Do you have any priors?” I asked.
The jiggling stopped. She tucked her hands beneath her thighs and stared down at the table.
“Sadira?”
Her hair fell, blocking her face. “I’ve got some traffic violations.”
“Such as?”
“Speeding. Running a red light.” She continued to gaze down. “It was D.C., you know how hard it is sometimes when you’re used to seeing traffic lights above, not on the street corners.”
Indeed, I did. I’d accidentally run a red light or two in D.C., but had never been caught. “Well, I wouldn’t worry about that. Now, listen, I have some news. The weekend magistrate will not be able to set bail. Which means you’ll have to wait until Monday when court is in session.”
Her head flew up at my statement. “You mean I’ve got to stay here? All weekend?” she squeaked.
“I’m afraid so,” I said sympatheticall
y.
“It smells.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The jail cell, it smells like pee and body odor. Isn’t there anything you can do to get me out sooner?”
My nose scrunched at the thought of spending a night in a stinky jail cell. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“But what about innocent until proven guilty and all that? What about my job? I’m a schoolteacher. They’ll fire me over this. Can they really keep me here until Monday?”
“I’m afraid so. The diamond the officer found at your feet is enough to hold you.”
She shivered.
I didn’t blame her. Spending a couple nights in jail wouldn’t be on my list of ‘fun things to do’ either. Unfortunately, her assessment of the situation was correct, felony charges against a teacher working with kids could absolutely get her fired. At minimum, she’d be put on leave until after the trial. I didn’t tell her, but there was a decent chance the press would get ahold of her arrest. “The good news is I’ve put in a call to a top-notch criminal attorney, who I’m going to try my hardest to get here for your arraignment. Her name is Jessica Williams.”
“What about you?”
I shook my head. “I’m not a criminal attorney. I told Jillian I’d help with the arraignment today, but since it’s not happening this weekend, you’re better off if Jessica, or one of her associates, handles your case. Jessica can also advise you on your job situation.”
“Okay, I guess.” She picked at a hangnail.
I squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry, everything will be all right.”
“Who’s going to take care of my cat?”
“You have a cat?”
She pushed a hank of scarlet hair away from her face. “Smokey.”
“Is there a neighbor who can watch him for you?”
She shook her head. “Not that I know of. I mean, I’m friendly with my neighbors, but I’m not friends with any of them.”
I liked dogs. I was not a cat person. My sister, on the other hand, loved all kids and animals as long as they didn’t slither or walk on eight legs. “I’ll see if Jilly can take care of Smokey.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“Why don’t you write down your address and instructions for feeding Smokey.” I dug into my purse for a pen and paper. “Does someone have a set of spare keys to your home?”
“Jillian has my keys and she knows where I live.”
“Okay. Then we’ll take care of that for you. Trust me, you’ll be in good hands with Jessica.” I patted her shoulder while she wrote down instructions for the cat.
“Thanks.”
I let myself out of the interrogation room and found the gray-haired detective lurking nearby, a fresh cup of coffee in hand.
“Well, hello, detective . . . ?”
“Clark,” he filled in, handing me a business card.
“Detective Clark, have you found any of the other diamonds my client allegedly stole?”
He took a long swig of coffee. “Not yet.”
“Not yet? One diamond—possibly planted by the jeweler—seems a little thin.” I crossed my arms and gave him the stink-eye.
“We’ll find more.”
“Find them where?” I allowed a skeptical brow to peak. “You’ve got her handbag. I’m assuming you didn’t find any more in there.”
“You’d be correct.”
“Where do you think you’ll find them?”
He shrugged. “Maybe her apartment.”
My Spidey sense went on alert. “Did you get a warrant?”
A slow smile spread across his features. “We did.”
“May I see it?” I held out a hand.
“The detective on site has it.” He glanced at his watch. “If you hurry, you can probably meet him at her apartment,” he said triumphantly.
I jogged past Clark, hustling my way through the maze of cube-world and into the lobby where Jillian impatiently paced. “Jillian, c’mon,” I barked. “Time to go.”
“What? What’s the matter?” Jillian’s steps dogged mine.
“They’ve got a warrant. They’re searching her house. You’ll need to direct me to her place.”
“You can follow me. Where are you parked?”
“Over there, by the dumpster.”
“Me too.” Jillian pulled out her keys and the black Audi next to my beat-up Honda chirped. She pulled the car door open.
“Wait. What is that? Did you get a new car?”
“No, it’s Sadira’s.” She started to climb into the car.
“Stop!” I exclaimed.
My sister halted mid-movement.
“Why are you driving Sadira’s car?”
“She drove us over to the fashion show. I left my car at her apartment,” she explained.
That’s why my sister had her keys. I did some fast thinking. The warrant probably included Sadira’s car. “Get in my car. Leave Sadira’s here.”
“Are you sure?” Jillian’s face fell with confusion.
“Yes.” If they asked about her car, I wouldn’t lie, but I also didn’t feel as if I needed to deliver it to them on a silver tray. Besides, if there were diamonds hidden in the vehicle, I didn’t want my sister to get caught driving around in it.
By the time we got to The Sargetti, Sadira’s condo complex in McLean, there was no sign of any police presence. I wondered if we’d beat them there. However, letting ourselves in to the apartment, we realized they’d already come and gone. The place wasn’t completely upended, but drawers were pulled halfway out, kitchen cabinets hung open, dishes and glasses were spread across the countertops, and the couch cushions were stacked in a corner. Even the mirror in the half bath hung crookedly, as if the searchers had removed it to check behind it. Smokey greeted us with a timid meow as we walked into Sadira’s bedroom.
“Hello, kitty.” My sister scooped up the silky gray Siamese.
“That must be Smokey. Sadira asked if you could take care of him until she’s released.”
“Of course.” She rubbed her nose against the cat’s neck.
The apartment matched the elegant creature—soft gray tones on the walls, modern, simple furniture, and hand-scraped hardwoods throughout. I could tell, even through the messiness left behind by the police, that Sadira like things neat, clean, and expensive. A visit into her closet revealed more of Sadira’s upscale taste. Designer shoes rose to the ceiling of the back wall, haphazardly stacked on the shelving as if the police had checked each pair for the missing jewels. Dresses, pants, tops, skirts, and other clothing items hung crookedly on hangers, with a few pieces left on the floor. All of it filled a closet large enough for a couple to share with space left over.
“Your friend likes nice things,” I commented drily, fingering a Marc Jacobs dress.
Jilly came into the closet carrying Smokey over her shoulder. “I know. Wouldn’t you kill for her shoes?”
“Mm.” Frowning, I read some of the labels—Prada, Choo, Ferragamo. “She’s just a schoolteacher like you, right?”
“Yup.” The cat became fidgety and Jillian returned him to the floor where he began cleaning himself.
“Jilly, this is a very nice condo, she’s got thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes in here, and she drives an Audi. This” —I indicated the wall of shoes— “screams living beyond her means. She must be up to her eyeballs in debt. Are you sure she didn’t steal the diamonds?”
“I know, right? I asked her about it. She said she makes a commission off her jewelry store sales.”
My gaze scrolled through the room again. “She must be a damn good saleswoman.”
“I suspect so. She can be very charming. And she’s quite beautiful.” Smokey began stropping himself against my sister’s legs.
I didn’t agree with her assessment. Sadira held an appeal, but not that of a beauty in the classic sense. Her nose was too wide, eyes a bit small, and forehead too tall; however, with her skilled use of makeup and eye-catching hair color, she made for a st
riking specimen. “Let’s get Smokey’s supplies and go.”
“Do you think we should clean this place up?”
“Nope.” I trooped past my sister to the kitchen and found Smokey’s food in the cabinet next to the refrigerator.
Back in my car, Jillian sat in the passenger seat with Smokey on her lap, trying to convince me to agree to her whack-a-doodle idea.
“But you can help investigate the theft,” she implored.
I slanted my eyes at her. “I beg your pardon?”
“Yeah, you and me together, like Cagney and Lacey. Rizzoli and Isles.”
“Jillian—we’re not private investigators. You’re a schoolteacher. I work for a healthcare advocacy organization.”
“I know that! But you solved that art case.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said without inflection, and stared out the windshield.
She harrumphed. “Don’t bullshit me, Rina. Like I said, I’m calling in my chip and we’re investigating.”
“How?” I turned with my palms up. “Where would we even start?”
“I want to talk with some of the other employees at the store.”
“I imagine the police are already doing that.” My hands dropped.
“Yes, but they aren’t doing it to help Sadira,” Jillian whined. “They’ll do it to make sure she goes to jail.”
I directed a gusty sigh heavenward, causing my bangs to flutter up. “Mike would consider this snooping.” Besides that, considering what I just witnessed in Sadira’s home, I wasn’t so sure she was innocent of the charges. I feared, not only would the police find evidence to convict her, what would happen if Jillian and I found evidence of the same thing? Technically, as her lawyer, I couldn’t testify against her—but Jillian could be forced to.
“Yeah, but he’s out of town, and you’re mad at him right now anyway. What he doesn’t know . . .” She stroked the purring cat and grinned at me.
Shifting, I turned to face my sister so I could look her straight in those baby blues. “You seriously believe Sadira is innocent of this theft?”