by Ford, Mia
I stood there staring at him, knowing my father didn’t have any actual friends. This guy was not your typical suburban guy, and I knew he was here on business, not pleasure. Before I could say anything, Paulie’s eyes shifted behind me to my father sitting at the table. His grin turned menacing, and he pushed past me before I could even think about inviting him inside. I turned and watched as he stood next to my father at the table and leaned over into his face. My father was gritting his teeth and listening to Paulie curse at him under his breath. The woman shoved past me, and I turned, closing the door behind us.
I turned back toward them and watched as the woman followed after Paulie. I couldn’t help but notice the coldness in her eyes. When she looked at me, it was like she was looking through me, and it was an eerie feeling. Paulie was still standing over my father, casting his shadow onto the wall and obviously bullying him. I couldn’t completely hear what he was saying, but I didn’t like the tone of his body language at all.
“What do you want?” I asked, needing to find out the details and get these people out of the house.
“Oh, there is no financial attachment to this debt anymore,” Paulie said, standing up and looking at me. “There was a bit of money owed, but I worked something out that would take care of the debt.”
I didn’t know what he was talking about. If there was no debt left to pay, then why were they here? I didn’t give a shit at this point, so I stepped forward with clenched fists.
“You hear that, asshat,” Paulie said shouting at my father. “You are so weak, and now, your daughter will pay the price for your debt.”
“You guys need to leave, now,” I said sternly, trying not to show just how nervous I was. “I’m serious. Get out of my house.”
“Harry,” Paulie said, snapping his fingers at the large woman.
She stomped over to me, grabbed me by the back of the neck, and leaned me backward so I knew it was time for me to listen. Paulie grabbed a napkin from the table, and as he wiped his mouth, he chuckled and walked over to me. He pulled his face in close to mine and yanked at my arms, twisted behind my back.
“The cops are going to be here really soon,” he whispered, running his hand down my face. “You are going to agree with everything that they say, and you are not going to mention that we were here. If you don’t agree with the cops, or you tell them anything about this little business, then I will kill your precious father. I am done playing these bullshit games.”
Paulie stepped forward again, and I could smell the whiskey on his breath. I turned my head to the side and closed my eyes as he grabbed my breasts and squeezed them. He looked at me and ran his finger down my cheek, clicking his tongue. I felt absolutely disgusting, and I just wanted to make him leave my house.
“You should really think about your choices,” he whispered. “When you do, remember that there are worse things that could happen outside the prison. Stay straight with the story because there are a lot scarier things that could happen to you if you don’t go to jail and take the fall for this.”
Paulie nodded his head at Harry, and she dropped me, pushing me forward onto the floor. I sat there, watching as he walked out the door and into the street. I felt completely helpless and dirty, and the fear had bubbled back up into my stomach. I didn’t know what my father had gotten us into, but it seemed to be really bad. This time around, they were making house calls, which meant that they were serious about everything. Just as my life had started to get simple, this bomb was dropped on me. Only this time, I hadn’t seen it coming at all.
Chapter 17
Blaine
Although I couldn’t be with Josie tonight, supporting her through this difficult time in her life, I knew that I could at least sit back and relax, enjoy a glass of wine, and celebrate my first few days at the office. I hadn’t heard from Josie all evening, so it was surprising to me when my phone went off and her face popped up. I grabbed it, assuming since she never called me, it must be somewhat important. When I put the phone to my ear, I could hear Josie crying and saying something to her father. My heart sank, realizing something bad must have happened.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Blaine,” she said, panicked. “Oh, God. Everything is such a mess.”
“Take a deep breath,” I said, trying to understand her through her sobs. “Tell me what happened.”
“These two people came to the house,” she said after breathing deeply. “It was a man and a woman, and they threatened me. I really don’t know what’s going on. I feel completely disoriented.”
“Everything is going to be okay, just take a deep breath,” I told her. “There is nothing that we can’t handle together. Tell me everything that happened.”
“Well,” she said, sniffling. “They said that my dad owed them a lot of money, but that they didn’t want money to pay off his debt anymore. Instead, they had another idea, and it involves me. It was terrible. The woman put me in a choke hold, and the guy groped on me, telling me I better go along with it. I don’t know what to say or do.”
As soon as I heard her say that he was planning something else and it included her, my mind instantly went to a dark place, imagining what kind of terrible things could be done to my sweet, innocent Josie. I was so angry that the wine glass I was holding shattered instantly in my hand. I groaned as blood began to seep out and drip on the hardwood floors. I shook the excess glass from my hand and sat there for a moment, trying to put together the jagged pieces of the puzzle that Josie just handed me. Her father had really gone and done it this time, not only putting himself in danger, but dragging Josie along for the ride. I knew I should have gone over there. I just didn’t want to overstep my boundaries, and I wanted Josie to make her own decisions. Whoever these clowns were that put their hands on my girlfriend, they had some kind of diabolical plan, but I couldn’t quite see what was coming.
I stood up from the couch, with Josie still on the other end of the phone that was stuck between my shoulder and my ear. I walked over to the sink and started to clean the glass out of my bloody hand. I winced each time I pulled a piece out, letting the water run over the bleeding wounds. As the glass fell into the sink, I could hear sirens on the other end of the line. Josie’s breath quickened, but I figured that she had called them after the people had busted into her house. It was a good thing she was getting the cops involved. She didn’t need to handle any of this on her own.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“The police are here,” she said, sobbing.
I wasn’t sure why she was so upset about the cops, but at least she would get to make a report, and maybe they would do something to keep her safe while they looked for these assholes. She had been through a lot, and I really wanted to go there and be with her. I thought, though, it might better to wait until after she had dealt with the cops. These things were confusing enough without adding another face to the picture. I wasn’t there, and although that pissed me off to no end, there was nothing I could do to help the cops. I figured I would just be in the way if I showed up while they were there. Josie was tough, and I knew she could handle this. I had complete faith in her abilities.
However, as I watched the blood from my hand, I began to hear shouting on the other end. At first, it was muffled, but then, as the phone fell from Josie’s ear and hit the floor, the voices became more clear. There was way more than one or two cops there, and they were shouting for Josie to get on the floor and put her hands over her head. There was a bang that sounded like someone slamming a door shut, and the officer started to read Josie her Miranda rights. Immediately, I grabbed the towel from the edge of the sink, wrapping it tightly around my hand. Nerves shot through my stomach, and I ran through the house, throwing my shoes on and grabbing my car keys. I left the house and jumped in the car, speeding out of the neighborhood.
Josie had just called me, telling me she was attacked, but for some reason, the police were arresting her. Nothing was making sense, but I knew I had to get to
her as fast as I possibly could. As I drove along, the houses passed by me in a blur, and the realization that my girlfriend was going into police custody hit me hard. She was the sweetest and kindest person I knew. There was no way she’d committed any crime that would warrant the police bursting into the house and arresting her like that. I couldn’t even imagine how terrified Josie was at that moment.
When I got to the house, I parked down the block, allowing space from the police. The entire area was already taped off, and it was crawling with cops. It looked like a murder scene, only there was no body and no criminal. I pushed through the crowd and up to the tape, reaching down to lift it and go under. A police officer stepped forward and put his hand up.
“I’m sorry sir, you can’t go past the tape,” he said in a deep voice.
“I’m the family lawyer,” I argued.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he said. “This is a police crime scene now. No one is allowed past the tape.”
A crime scene? My mind began to swirl. Immediately, I was terrified that something had happened to Josie. I scanned the area, looking everywhere for her, but she wasn’t standing outside. I had been on the phone with her when the cops arrived, so unless one of them killed her, she had to be inside with the police. I nodded at the cop and moved back, walking toward the front of the sectioned off area. There were several officers standing around the trashcans, and one of the officers held what looked to be a large knife that I had never seen before. There was dried blood on the blade, and they were obviously logging it into evidence. What did a butcher knife in a trash can and two obvious mobsters have to do with Josie, or her dad for that matter?
I stood there for several moments before two police offers walked out of the door, followed by Josie with her hands handcuffed behind her back. One of the other cops had a firm grip on her arm and was leading her toward his squad car. I didn’t know what to do, but I wanted Josie to know that I was there. I reached my hand up in the air and began to wave it.
“Hey,” I shouted. “Josie!”
Josie looked across the crowd, her face landing on mine. Immediately, her eyes popped open, and she looked at the cop leading her to the police car for transport. I slapped my hands down to the side and let out a deep breath, frustration setting in. I watched as Josie approached the car, still looking over into the crowd for me.
“Hey, let me in,” I shouted to the cops. “I am her lawyer. Let me in the car with her, please.”
Every single cop turned their backs toward me, completely ignoring my request. I grunted angrily and turned, running back to my car and hopping in. As soon as I pulled up toward the house, the cop car carrying Josie sped off for the precinct. I followed closely behind, looking up at Josie as she turned and peered out of the window. Her face was incredibly calm, and I could tell whatever was going on, she knew she had to keep her emotions in check and follow along as much as possible.
When I pulled into the precinct parking lot, I watched the cop car pull around back to unload Josie into the holding cells. I walked into the front and told the clerk my client had just been brought in, and I needed a chance to speak with her. The woman looked at me like I was nuts and then told me that she needed to be processed first. She looked over my shoulder at the waiting area and nodded her head in that direction. I had no choice but to sit and wait, knowing that I would get the ability to talk to her soon. When she was done with processing, they led her back to the interrogation room, and I stayed put in the lobby, waiting for my turn.
The woman at the front desk nodded her head at me, and I walked over, smiling charmingly. She looked behind me and around the room, making sure that no one was listening. She leaned over the desk and began to whisper.
“She is done with processing, and now, they are going to ask a ton of questions,” she said. “This young lady has to invoke her right to an attorney before you can go back there. I’m sorry. There is nothing I can do about that.”
“She doesn’t even know anything about that rule,” I said with frustration. “You might as well wait for her to admit to being the tooth fairy.”
“I know,” she said. “Hopefully, she’s watched Law and Order and can pick up some cues from that.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I exclaimed. “This is total bullshit. “
“As soon as I hear anything, I’ll let you know,” she said with a sympathetic tone.
I nodded my head and smiled, grateful that at least one person in the precinct actually gave a shit about Josie. I didn’t know what made them think that she was a criminal, but I had to get her out of there. I walked back into the lobby and waited, pacing the floor as I ticked through the things in my mind. I had so many emotions flooding through my mind, from anger to sadness, to fear, and then to a gut-wrenching feeling of hopelessness. There was nothing worse than watching someone you loved get taken into a situation like this, unable to understand her rights, and put to the test by the hard-ass cops. I could already see Josie now, sitting in the interrogation room with tears flowing down her cheeks.
I took a deep breath and sat down in one of the chairs in the waiting area, starting to understand that it was going to be a long day if I didn’t do something about this. But what? I didn’t have any rights, just because I was an attorney. I really wished my father was there at that moment. He would have kicked the door in, picked up Josie, and marched out of the station, enraged at how they were treating her with no real support or representation. As a lawyer, I knew what they could do in an interrogation room, but all I could do was wait and hope that my arms would be wrapped around Josie’s body soon.
Chapter 18
Josie
“How do you know, Eliza Barber, Ms. Gray?”
The police were interrogating me, and they had been for many hours. I was exhausted, and the only thing they offered me was a cup of coffee. Everyone looked at me so angrily, as if they were positive that I was a cold-blooded killer. I was terrified of every person that came into the room. It was like a crime drama show. There were people pretending to be nice, people pretending to be assholes, and others that just asked direct questions, wrote something down, and left.
I had no clue what was going on, but I didn’t want to incriminate myself, so I just denied every allegation they threw at me. In reality, I wasn’t lying. I really had no idea what these detectives were talking about. They threw pictures of a dead woman in front of me, witness testimony of seeing a girl that fit my description, and told me that they had evidence that I was the murderer.
I shook my head when I first heard that. There was no way they could have evidence on me. Obviously, I hadn’t killed anyone. Well, it was obvious to me, not so much to the cops who kept grilling me. After I denied any connection to the murder, the female detective left the room and then came back carrying two plastic evidence bags in her hand. She tossed them down on the table in front of me and looked at my face. One bag held a large knife, and the other one contained a bloody, ripped up shirt. I shook my head and looked at her confused.
“We found that knife, the murder weapon, wrapped in that shirt, the victim’s shirt, in your trash can,” she said.
“That’s impossible,” I said, shaking my head. “I didn’t know that woman. I didn’t kill anyone. I don’t know how that got there, but I didn’t kill anyone.”
“Come on, Josie,” the woman said, sitting down in the chair across from me. “Your only alibi witness is your father, and he’s nowhere to be found. There is testimony from other eyewitnesses placing you, or someone that looks like you, at the scene of the crime. We found the murder weapon wrapped in the victim’s shirt in your trash can. Do you really expect us to believe that you’re innocent?”
“Yes,” I said with exasperation. “Doesn’t that seem awfully convenient to you? Besides, the witness saw someone with dark hair from the top of floor of an apartment building across the street. There was no way they could ID me as that person, and the reason for that is because I didn’t fucking do it!�
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“Look,” she said, putting her hands in her lap. “Just confess. Tell us everything, and we will ask the prosecutor for leniency. You understand that when we take you to court, the district attorney is going to seek the maximum sentence if you don’t cooperate. You’ll spend the rest of your life behind bars, and sweetheart, those girls are a lot tougher than your victim. You won’t last long in there at all.”
I crossed my arms and looked away, growing tired of being called a murderer. I knew how the evidence looked, but I didn’t do it. I wasn’t going to confess to a crime that I didn’t commit. I knew the deal was that I take the fall for this murder. I knew that when Paulie and Harry got wind that I was refusing to claim that I was guilty, they would probably go after my father if they hadn’t already done so, but this was serious. I had given my life to my father for the last twenty years, and I didn’t want to spend the rest of it behind bars because he couldn’t get his shit together. I could tell the detectives about Paulie and Harry, but then what? They would research it, find them, and those gangster assholes would refuse to admit it. Then they would kill my father anyway. I was pretty much stuck between a rock and a hard place.
“Fine,” she said, slamming her hands on the table and startling me from my thoughts. “We’ll do it your way. I hope you understand that when we go into that courtroom, we are going for the win. We’ll make sure you spend the rest of your life behind bars.”
The detective grabbed the bags and looked at me one last time before walking out of the interrogation room. She slammed the door behind her, and I jumped, still completely terrified of every sound. All I could do at that point was stay silent, no matter who came into the room. I had said my piece and didn’t want to say the wrong thing and have it twisted in court. I was innocent, and I was being set up by the mob. It was like a bad cop drama, only I was the innocent one, and the cops were doing everything they could to pin it on me, just like Harry and Paulie. I just wished it would all go away, like a bad dream.
