by Sally Mason
Still pouting, Cameron grabs the rifle and the gun with the help of the pillow case, and disappears down the hallway.
Marcel signals me to follow him. “Stay close behind me.”
We rush through the dark house—the banging has stopped. Cold sweat pearls on my forehead. I expect the front door to be kicked in at any second. If that happens, I’ll drop to the ground like they do in the movies.
Finn’s breath is grazing my neck. He’s breathing much heavier than usual, probably scared out of his mind. In a sense, I should be, too, but somehow, this seems like a piece of cake in comparison to my abduction. Back then, the stakes were much higher. The worst that could happen today would be for me to get arrested, and I’m sure that Roy can get me off.
We pass by the bathroom where Oshin is still flushing the toilet, threatening whoever sent the police after him in between loud and colorful curses. If he gets himself out of this mess, I’m sure that he and the guys across the street will have some serious words—if he doesn’t shoot them straight away, that is. I catch a glimpse of his wide frame from the back. He has a neck like a bull and an undefined waist. His strawberry blond hair is drenched in sweat, his muscle top sticking to his back. There are still four large bags of white powder next to him on the cabinet. It will take ages to get rid of it all. Secretly, I hope he won’t make it.
Finn’s mom is still passed out in the kitchen, oblivious that her house is under siege. Marcel scopes out the backyard, careful to stay hidden behind the curtains.
“I can see four cops.” He and Finn exchange a glance. “Just walking out of here won’t work.”
My knees begin to wobble and my fingers wrap around the backrest of a chair. I’m having second thoughts. It all sounds like a really bad idea. Horrifying scenarios unfold in my mind—from getting shot to being abducted and raped by the guys across the street. I chew my lip, uncertain how to tell Marcel that I would prefer to just surrender to the police.
Before I can thwart the plan, Cameron appears in the doorway. His face shines from his tears. When he sees his mother, he squats down next to her, gently shaking her shoulder. “Mom. Wake up.”
Marcel clicks his tongue. “Leave her. She’ll be better off in jail. At least, she won’t be able to smoke any crack.”
Cameron tosses him a dark look. “Who the hell are you anyway, bossing me around?”
Marcel’s eyes narrow. He’s about ready to give the boy a piece of his mind when I intervene. “Let’s just focus on the problem here.”
Cameron and Marcel continue to glare at each other until Marcel reclaims his leadership position. “Okay, this is what we gonna do. Kelsey and Cameron will make a run for it while I’ll let the cops in through the front. There’ll be enough screaming and commotion for Finn to disappear.”
My jaw drops. “Are you crazy? They’ll shoot us if we run.”
Marcel’s lips twitch. “These are cops, Kelsey. They never shoot without a warning, especially not at a girl and a kid. Just trust me here.”
I squint at him, full of doubt, before I grudgingly admit that he is kind of the expert here. My gaze lands on Finn, who has swallowed his tongue, his face paler than a ghost. He fought my battles with Jed and went to jail because of it, now it’s time to repay him.
All fired up, I glance at Cameron, who slowly rises when Finn throws him a pleading look.
Marcel is all business. “Take off in different directions; that will be the most effective.” He turns to Finn and they fist bump. “Good luck, bro.” Sucking in a deep breath, he glances around our little group. “Let’s do this. Count to thirty and run.” With that, he disappears into the darkness.
I never realized that half a minute can be so short. When I was raped and beaten, I totally lost track of time. When you lay still, all tied up in bed and uncertain what will happen next, the passing moments can seem like an eternity. Now, I wish I could extend the seconds—at least in my mind. I want just one chance to think clearly, one opportunity to object to this wacky plan.
Sweat trickles down my temples, my breath shallow. I’ve never been in trouble with the police and my mom will totally freak. The all-too-familiar crushing of my chest returns as oxygen slowly drains from my lungs. Everything around me turns surreal.
When there is a loud bang in the hallway, Cameron takes off. My legs turn to jelly, but I force myself to step into the open doorway. When the cold night air hits me, my instincts kick in. I draw in a deep breath, and with a long jump that would make a cheetah proud, my legs begin to pump. I don’t know where I’m running to and can only hope that Marcel was not mistaken about the cops not shooting fleeing suspects.
Loud yells surround me—he sure was right about the commotion—and I push forward until my attempts are thwarted by a heavy body tackling me to the ground. I land on my stomach, pain shooting up my side. When I struggle to get up, my face is pushed into the soft grass at the same time as my arm is bent backward. Cold metal wraps around my wrist.
“You have the right to remain silent.” The second handcuff closes around my other wrist. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” I’m pulled to my feet and stare into the face of a young cop. “You have the right to an attorney, and if you can’t afford one, the state will provide one for you.” He shoves me in the direction of the house where one of his colleagues has secured Cameron. “Do you understand your rights as I have just told them to you?”
I nod, my eyes darting around for Finn, but he is nowhere in sight. Hopefully, he managed to escape. I catch a glimpse of his mother; a paramedic is attending to her. Loud hollering comes from the hallway. Oshin is bitterly complaining about the raid on his home. There is not a peep from Marcel, but since no shots were fired, I figure he should still be alive.
Five minutes later, I am loaded into the police cruiser. With screeching sirens, we take off. I lean back into my seat, staring at the bars that divide my section from the front. I can’t help but grin, feeling like a badass. Yet it’s definitely not an anecdote I wish to share with my kids.
~~~~
They put me in with the general population, but jail is nothing like you see on TV. The other women ignore me and no one is trying to steal my shoes or start a fight. The jumpsuit fits me perfectly and actually doesn’t look that bad, though it is not something I would choose for my casual wardrobe. The only authentic moment was my smudged fingers when they took my prints, and I wonder if I will get to keep my mug shots. In my excitement, I forgot to ask for a phone call.
In my cell, I get comfortable on a cot, mental exhaustion replacing my pounding heartbeat. It must be already after midnight and everyone else is sleeping, or at least not making a sound. The bright neon light in the hallway keeps me awake, my muscles still twitching from the adrenaline surging through my veins. Worry for Finn and Maisie is settling in, though I don’t consider my situation dire.
They come for me when I’m just about to doze off; I would have growled if the cop had not been so intimidating. He’s a tall dude and I barely reach his shoulders. Surprisingly, he is not wearing a uniform. He ushers me down the hallway into a small office. An older guy is seated like a king behind a desk. Marcel is standing by the window, staring into the blackness of the night. He seems unharmed, which is a relief.
“Take a seat, Ms. Miller.” The tall cop points at a chair across the desk.
I sit down and fold my hands in my lap, trying to show that I fully intend to cooperate.
The older guy takes over. “Ms. Miller, I’m Agent Walters with the DEA. Do you know what that stands for?”
I clear my throat when he glares at me, my voice failing me. For the first time, I realize that I might be in bigger trouble than I thought.
“Yes,” I finally mutter. “It’s for Drug Enforcement Agency.”
“Great.” He smiles at me. “Then we’re on the same page.” His eyes travel to Marcel by the window. “You wanna take it from here?”
There’s a moment of silence; he h
asn’t once turned around. “Yeah. Could you just give us the room?”
I squint at him, noticing that he neither wears a jumpsuit nor handcuffs.
Walters rises and signals the big agent to follow him. The door closes behind them before Marcel finally turns around.
I gasp when I see his bruised face. “What happened to you?”
He leaves his place by the window, plopping into the chair that was just occupied by Walters.
“Okay, what I’m telling you now needs to stay in this room. If you spill any of this to anyone, I will most likely get killed. Do you understand?”
The spit dries in my mouth as I nod.
“I work for the DEA as an undercover agent and have been investigating Tyrone for the last three years. Thanks to our little road trip, things are about to fall apart. That is, unless you help me.”
I struggle to comprehend the words. In a way, I’m not surprised. He has never acted like a criminal, at least not in front of me. “What do you need me to do?”
He lets the air escape through pursed lips. “Finn got away, just as planned, but he’ll want an explanation on how we got out of jail. I’m gonna claim that the cops beat me up, and when they couldn’t pin the drugs or guns on me, they let me go to avoid being sued. If you confirm that story, he is more likely to believe it. Just tell him that you saw them roughing me up when we first got to the station because I gave them a hard time during booking. You being a witness will also explain why they let you go.”
I’m puzzled. “Why don’t we just tell him the truth? He’s your friend.”
Marcel chuckles with bitterness. “You don’t really have friends in this line of work. Finn saved my nephew’s life in juvie, and when he moved to Maine, we started hanging since he didn’t know anyone else in the state besides his uncle. Ultimately, he doesn’t owe me anything and he hates the police with a passion. There’s always a chance he’ll let it slip to Tyrone as an entry ticket to join the organization. Since he could also be Napoleon, I’m not sure how far I trust him. The less people who know, the better.” When I remain silent, he adds, “Look, I’m not expecting you to do this for me for free. In return, I’ll help you find Napoleon.”
I gaze up at him from under my eyelashes. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. It’s like a business deal.” He shrugs. “You do something for me, I do something for you. That way, we’re both invested to hold up our end of the bargain.”
The idea is growing on me. “What about Finn? If he gets involved in Tyrone’s business, are you going to arrest him?”
“That really depends on his involvement. So far, he’s clean. He never concerned himself with Tyrone other than buying some weed for personal use when he came by to visit me. Cameron finally talked to a social worker, so the sexual abuse charges can be challenged, but he still almost killed Oshin O’Grady. It’s ultimately up to his lawyer to ask for a new trial.” He sighs. “Look, Kelsey, Finn seems like a nice guy, but helping him tonight was total insanity and got me into a lot of trouble with my boss. I almost got fired.” His eyes are pleading as he watches me with slumped shoulders.
I remember how he helped me with Justin, his boyish smile when he dallied with Hallie’s sister. He’s the only one I explicitly trust at the moment, and not only because he is a cop. “Okay, I’ll help you.”
I drown the few doubts nagging at me by convincing myself that it’s the right thing to do. Finn’s life may have been a bunch of crap, but if he is a criminal, he deserves to be punished, just like anyone else—and if he is Napoleon, I hope Marcel will kill him.
CHAPTER 28
The visitation area of the Androscoggin County Jail is a small room the size of our storage closet. A metal stool is bolted to the floor in front of a bulletproof glass window that is several inches thick. I chew my lip as I stare at my fingernails, waiting for Luke to appear on the other side of the glass. There is no sound and after a while, I automatically start humming to break through the nerve-racking silence.
When the door behind the glass finally opens, the man crossing the threshold has barely a resemblance with my brother. His face is covered with stubble and dark circles underline his eyes. The few days he has spent behind bars has easily aged him by ten years. His tan from the summer has totally vanished, his skin shining ghost-like under the bright neon light.
His lips spread into the widest grin when he lowers himself onto the stool across from me. His palm comes to rest on the glass. Tears fill my eyes when I raise my hand to mimic the gesture. The glass feels cold and Luke appears miles away despite our closeness—the separation tears painfully at my heart. A few hot tears spill from my eyes and roll down my cheeks. There is nothing in this world I want more than to touch him.
He grimaces, picking up the phone, and signals me to do the same. As soon as the receiver touches my ear, I hear his voice.
“Hey, sis, what’s up?”
I know he is trying to make this experience easier for me and I wipe the tears off my face with the sleeve of my jacket. Snuffling, I make a mental note to bring tissues next time.
“I’m hanging in there.” I don’t want to ask him how he is—afraid of the answer—giving him my bravest smile instead.
He takes the lead, volunteering what I need to know. “I’m okay, really. It’s nothing like you see in the movies. Most of the guys in here are actually alright, though the food is terrible. We get to watch TV almost all day and are even allowed to go to the gym.”
“You have a gym?” I ask with surprise.
“Yep. They even let you use an exercise yard for some fresh air when it’s not too cold.” He pats his stomach. “I think I’ve been losing weight, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. You’ll see, by the time I get out of here, I’ll be in top form.”
My smile is crooked; his efforts to cheer me up only bring new tears to my eyes.
“So, what have you been up to?” he asks.
I ponder whether I should tell him the truth about my recent endeavors and decide to play it by ear. “I’ve been hanging out with Hallie a lot.”
“That’s good.” His words don’t match his reserved smile; he must not think it’s a good idea.
My fingers wrap tighter around the receiver. “We have been playing detective, trying to find Napoleon.”
His eyes narrow. “Don’t you think you should let the police handle that?”
I have seen the expression on his face a hundred times before—it’s his typical big-brother protective look. Wanting to ease his mind, I feed him some more information. “Marcel has been helping us. You really don’t need to worry.”
He snorts. “He’s a drug dealer. I really don’t think he’s the right person to hang with, Kels.”
It’s my turn to frown—after all, he helped him find me—and it is rather hypocritical to judge him.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he adds. “I appreciate what he has done for you, but those types of guys attract trouble like a magnet. Sooner or later, he’ll pull you down.”
I almost chuckle when I remember our road trip to Connecticut. Luke has no idea that he and Finn already totally corrupted me. If Marcel wasn’t a cop, I would probably be sitting in a similar jail cell in New Haven.
“I just don’t think this case is a priority for the police,” I admit. “As long as Napoleon is out there, I’ll always have to look over my shoulder. I refuse to live like this for the rest of my life.”
“I understand.”
My gaze drops when I notice the pain in his eyes.
“I guess I just want to be the one helping you,” he says. “It drives me nuts, sitting in here, terrified that Napoleon will snatch you again and I won’t be around to protect you.” His face softens. “I hope you understand.”
My hand moves over the glass again. “Of course I do, and I wish you were here with me, too.” My voice is trembling and I swallow down the lump building in my throat. “Did your dad say what’ll happen next?”
“The DA will present the ca
se to the grand jury, and if I’m lucky, they’ll drop the charges after that. The state really doesn’t want to pursue this, but they fear that people will scream favoritism because my dad is a hotshot lawyer. He said they’re just going through the motions and that I shouldn’t worry. I just hope he’s right.”
That makes two of us. “When’s the grand jury?”
“Not sure. They’ll subpoena you to testify, so you’ll know.”
“Well, I will tell them that your act was nothing but heroic.” I smile. “You saved my life, Luke.”
He lowers his gaze. “Just make sure you stay safe.”
I’m just about to tell him not to worry when the door behind him opens with a low squeak.
“Time’s up, Franklin.” The guard glares at him without even the slightest bit of sympathy.
The wetness in Luke’s eyes betrays him; this is so much harder than he lets on. “I love you, Kels.”
My bottom lip trembles when our palms connect over the glass one last time. “I love you, too, Luke. I’ll be back in two days.”
My heart is torn from my chest when the guard leads him away and the door closes behind him. The silence envelops me, sucking the little bit of restraint right out of me. With my face buried in my hands, I weep, wanting to find Napoleon more than ever. He has destroyed my life in every way imaginable and I will not rest until he is the one behind the glass.
~~~~
An hour later, I meet up with Finn at the coffee shop. Though he hasn’t been officially cleared as Napoleon, I figure I’ll be safe in a public place. My initial apprehension has been slowly dwindling away after I started to convince myself that he couldn’t possibly be my tormentor. He had plenty of opportunities to abduct me during our night on the town. And beating up Jed and risking a lengthy prison term, just to cover potential future tracks, makes no sense.
He grins when he squeezes into the seat across from me, his eyes lively. He certainly is in a much better mood than me.
