Boots and Bedlam

by Ashley Farley

  “Honestly, she invited herself.” Jamie stared out the window at the colorful lights that adorned the houses in their neighborhood. “I felt sorry for her when she told me her parents weren’t taking her with them to Russia. She seemed so sad. She didn’t have anywhere else to go. What kind of parents go off and leave their only child alone for the holidays?”

  Sam shook her head. “Not very nice ones.”

  “Sophia is so pretty and popular. She can have anybody she wants. I was flattered when she picked me. Although looking back, I think she was interested in me because of my position on the baseball team. I feel really stupid for letting her use me like that.”

  “That’s what she is, son. A user. And you were her latest victim. This is one of many upsets you’ll experience on your journey through life.” She reached for his hand. “Learn from it, but don’t let it drag you down.”

  They parked the car in front of the station and went inside. Sam checked in with the desk sergeant. “Will you let Eli know we’re here, please.”

  “He might be awhile, Sam. His hands are pretty full. They brought in a paddy wagon full of your friends.” Sergeant Miller directed his gaze at Jamie. “Good thing you had the sense to go home early.”

  “They’re not my friends,” Jamie mumbled, staring down at his feet.

  “Just tell Eli we’re here,” Sam said, and turned her back on the desk sergeant.

  Fifteen minutes later, Eli sought them out in the waiting room. Sam and Jamie stood to face him.

  “Sophia is in a lot of trouble,” Eli said. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you take her home tonight.”

  “We don’t want to take her home,” Sam said. “Not tonight. Not ever. That girl crossed a line. I should feel responsible for her because she’s staying under my roof, but I don’t. Not anymore. Her parents flew halfway around the world for the holidays. They left their daughter, knowing she was coming here, but they didn’t even bother to call me to introduce themselves, or explain their situation. Or to say thank you. They could’ve at least sent a fruit cake.”

  Eli turned his attention to Jamie. “Do you feel the same way about Sophia?”

  “Hell yes, I feel the same way. I had no idea she was such a screwed-up bitch when I invited her here. She’s done nothing but cause trouble since we got home. And I’m not just talking about the cocaine. I don’t care if you lock her up forever. Throw away the key while you’re at it.”

  “What a mess,” Eli said, rubbing his temples. “Sophia asked me to call you. She’s under the impression the two of you will bail her out.”

  “Tell her to call her parents,” Sam said.

  “She claims she doesn’t know where they’re staying in Moscow. She says their cell phones aren’t working.”

  “That’s a lie,” Jamie said. “I know for a fact that she talked to her mother yesterday.”

  “Why don’t I let the two of you talk to her?” Eli suggested. “Maybe you can convince her that calling her parents is her best option.”

  “Okay,” Jamie agreed. “What about Rachel? Is she being charged?”

  “Yes. She’s up to her neck with Sophia.”

  “Is her brother going to die?” Jamie asked.

  “Honestly, Jamie, I don’t know. A lot depends on how much cocaine he used.”

  Eli led them to an interrogation room at the back of the station. Sophia was sitting alone at a rectangular table with wild eyes, disheveled hair, and mascara smeared down her cheeks.

  The classic mug shot photo.

  Sam and Jamie took seats in the chairs opposite her.

  “Good move, Soph,” he said. “If I’d known you were a coke whore, we would have had a very different conversation when you invited yourself to come home with me for Christmas.”

  “Shut up, Jamie!” she snapped. “Are you going to bail me out or not?”

  “Not,” Jamie said so matter of factly Sam wanted to hug him.

  Sophia turned her attention to Sam. “Will you loan me the money until my parents get home from their trip?”

  Sam shook her head. “I’m sorry. From what Eli says, your case is more complicated than that.”

  Placing his hands on the table, Eli leaned in close to Sophia. “You seem to be having a difficult time grasping the enormity of your situation. Which is why I asked Sam and Jamie here to help you understand. You will have to appear in front of the magistrate tomorrow morning. He will decide whether to set bail. You had more than two grams of cocaine in your purse. Possession of a controlled substance with intent to sell is a felony in the state of South Carolina. For first-time offenders with no prior charges, a conviction carries up to a twenty-five-thousand-dollar fine and a possible fifteen-year prison sentence.”

  “I already told you.” Sophia pounded the table with her fist. “I wasn’t selling cocaine to anyone. I was giving it away.”

  Jamie stared at her with a slack jaw. “Are you really that stupid? Or are you just high?”

  Eli shot Jamie a look that shut him up. He turned back to Sophia. “Sell or distribute, we use the words interchangeably. If Rachel’s brother doesn’t recover, you may be looking at manslaughter charges as well.”

  “It’s not my fault he snorted so much,” Sophia snapped. “I tried to tell the kid to slow down.”

  Sam forced herself to sound calm. “Regardless of what you think about this situation, Sophia, you are in a lot of trouble and you really do need your parents’ help. Do you have an aunt or friend of the family who might know how to get in touch with them?”

  Sophia shook her head.

  Jamie fell back in his chair. “Give it up, Soph. I heard you talking to your mother on the phone yesterday.”

  The tears trickled out at first, and then Sophia lost it and began to sob. Dropping down to the nearest chair, Eli slid a box of tissues across the table to her. Sam watched the clock while Jamie twiddled his thumbs. After five minutes, the sobbing subsided.

  “Are you ready to call your parents?” Sam asked.

  Sophia peered up at Sam through wet eyelashes. “Will you do it?”

  “I don’t think . . .,” Sam started, but then realized how much she’d relish the opportunity to give the girl’s parents an earful. The Raineys had been gallivanting around Russia while she’d been dealing with their spoiled brat. “Fine.” Sam reached in her bag for her phone. “Do you know the name of their hotel in Moscow?”

  Sophia jotted down a number on the pad of paper in front of her and shot it across the table to Sam. “This is my dad’s cell number. He’s at home. In California.”

  Sam did a double take. “What did you just say?”

  Sophia’s chin quivered. “My parents never went to Russia.”

  Sam suddenly found it difficult to breathe. “You mean to tell me you’ve been lying to us this whole time?”

  “It was not that hard, Sam. You’re pretty gullible.” Sophia blew her nose. “But you might as well know the truth now because Daddy’s going to tell you anyway. I got in an argument with my parents during Thanksgiving. They took away my car and grounded me for Christmas break.”

  “Let me guess,” Eli said. “Your parents caught you using drugs.”

  Sophia hung her head.

  Sam fought down a wave of nausea. “So you asked my son if you could come here instead, where you wouldn’t be grounded. You deserve everything that’s coming to you, young lady.” She read the number off the pad of paper and punched it into her phone.

  Sophia’s father answered on the third ring. “Oliver Rainey.” Sam could barely hear him above the voices in the background on his end of the line.

  “Mr. Rainey, this is Samantha Sweeney, Jamie’s mother, calling from South Carolina. Your daughter has been staying with us for the past few days. I’m afraid I have some bad news. She’s been arrested. I’m with her at the police department now.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Mr. Rainey lowered his voice and Sam had to listen closer to hear him over his guests. “There’s not much I
can do from here this time of night. Bail her out, and I’ll have my attorney contact you in the morning.”

  His eloquent and calculating speech summoned, in Sam’s mind, the image of a distinguished man in his midfifties with gray hair and ice blue eyes like his daughter’s.

  “I can’t do that, Mr. Rainey. Even if I wanted to, which I definitely do not. Sophia is scheduled to appear before the magistrate in the morning. He will decide whether or not to grant her bail. The police are charging your daughter with possession of cocaine with intent to distribute.”

  Sophia’s father made no response. But the clinking of ice cubes and laughter in the background assured Sam that he was still on the line. Finally, he whispered, “Did you say cocaine?”

  “Yes, sir. Cocaine.”

  “Hold on a minute. Let me get to my study.” The line grew quiet as he moved away from the party. Footsteps echoed on a marble floor. A door closed, a lock clicked, and he came back on the line. “Ms. Sweeney, I’ve never known my daughter to do drugs until she started dating your son. I blame him for this. I’m sorry, but I’ve forgotten his name.”

  Sam gripped the phone tighter. “You mean to tell me you allowed your daughter to spend Christmas with a boy, and you don’t even know his name?”

  “My daughter has a lot of friends, Ms. Sweeney. I have a hard time keeping up with all of them.”

  “For your information, Mr. Rainey, my son, Jamie, was at home playing Monopoly with me tonight. Sophia was at Rachel Bennett’s house at the time of the arrest. Rachel is one of her sorority sisters.”

  “I know who Rachel Bennett is,” he snapped. “She came out to California to visit us last summer.”

  “Well then, you may remember that Rachel has a younger brother. Charlie Bennett was rushed to the hospital earlier with an apparent drug overdose. We haven’t received an update on his condition. If he doesn’t survive, god forbid, Sophia and Rachel could be facing manslaughter charges.”

  “That’s unfortunate. I wish him the best,” he said without a trace of concern in his voice. “Regardless of whether your son was arrested or not, I hold him responsible for getting my daughter into trouble.”

  “I can assure you, Mr. Rainey, Sophia didn’t need anyone’s help. She got into this trouble all on her own. Are you aware that in the state of South Carolina, if convicted, the charge for possession of cocaine with intent to distribute carries a fifteen-year sentence? Never mind the twenty–five-thousand-dollar fine. Your daughter could go to prison for a very long time.”

  “I’ll call my attorney now and have him contact one of his associates on the East Coast first thing in the morning. I’m hosting a dinner party, Ms. Sweeney. I need to get back to my guests. That’s the best I can do tonight.”

  A sharp pain struck Sam’s temple. “Your best explains a lot of things, Mr. Rainey. I’d never met your daughter until this past Friday.” She set her eyes on Sophia. “But I find her spoiled, self-centered, and rude. I’m pretty sure she didn’t get that way on her own.”

  Another brief period of silence ensued. “If I leave now, I can make the red-eye.”

  “I’m sure Sophia will be relieved to see you.” Sam straightened. “Charleston is the nearest airport to Prospect. Google it. I’ll text you my address. Jamie and I will pack up Sophia’s things and leave them on the front porch for you to pick up tomorrow.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Eli tooted his car horn for Sam at ten minutes before nine on Wednesday morning. She rushed to the curb, her head ducked against the gusts of wind. “Good grief, it’s cold outside,” she said, sliding into the passenger side of his cruiser.

  He leaned across the console and pecked her on the cheek. “According to the weatherman, this arctic front has settled in until after the new year.”

  “Great. Knowing our luck, it’ll snow this weekend and bring our wedding plans to a screeching halt.”

  He snorted. “I don’t think that’s anything you need to worry about. We live in the Lowcountry. The only white on the ground you’re gonna see is the sand on the beaches.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Sam said, her jaw set. “It’s happened before. In my early twenties, we had an epic snowstorm during the days leading up to Christmas. The whole town was rendered immobile for a week.”

  Eli ran his hand across the stubble on his chin. “I’d forgotten about that. My parents took us to Colorado skiing that Christmas. We were envious when we found out our friends were blanketed under eight inches of snow.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I told you, nothing is going to prevent us from getting married on Saturday.” He put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb. “Let’s go close this thing. Have you heard whether the documents are ready?”

  “I received an email last night when I got home from the police station. According to Craig, the documents are ready, and everything is set to go.” She rubbed her hands together in front of the heat vent. “Have you been by the station this morning? I’m curious how SoDiva survived her night in lockup.”

  “No, but I talked to dispatch a few minutes ago. She nearly drove the guards crazy, making unreasonable requests for feather pillows and cheeseburgers with fries. Her father is scheduled to arrive around noon with a hotshot attorney from Atlanta. They postponed her hearing with the magistrate until he gets here.” Eli looked both ways before making a right-hand turn on Main. “I noticed the suitcase on your front porch. Sophia’s, I presume. I didn’t think you were serious when you were talking to her father.”

  Sam smiled. “Believe it or not, that wasn’t me. Jamie is the one who packed her bags last night when we got home. He can hardly wait to get her out of his life.”

  Their meeting at the bank took less than an hour. Back in the car, Eli dropped the four sets of house keys in the cup holder. “I don’t know about you, but I’m relieved to have that over with.” He fastened his seat belt and turned on the ignition. “Do you have time to run by the house on your way to work?”

  She glanced at the clock. Five minutes until the market opened. “I wish I could. But I should get to work. I’m sure we’ll be slammed from the get-go today.”

  “I understand.” He backed out of the parking place and pulled onto Main Street. “I figured I’d moved my stuff in the next few days so I can help you with yours after the wedding.”

  “I thought you were going to Charleston to pick up the marriage license this morning.”

  “That won’t take but a couple of hours. I’ll be back by one at the latest, which will give me time to drop these shower gifts off and move some of my clothes.”

  Sam pressed her fingers to her lips to hide her smile. “I’m sorry, Eli. I totally forgot about the gifts.”

  “Don’t worry. You get to write the thank you notes.” He winked at her. “I have the night shift again tonight, but I’m hoping Jamie will help me move my furniture after work tomorrow.”

  “What furniture? You’re only allowed to bring your bed into this marriage. The rest of your stuff is junk.” Eli had inherited a queen-size rice bed from his parents that had been in his family for generations. Everything else was slated for Goodwill.

  A naughty twinkle glistened in his eye. “I can’t wait to see your sexy, naked body lying in my bed on Saturday night. In our new house. With the moon shining through the windows. You and me, husband and wife.”

  Sam’s body grew rigid. “What about Jamie? I can’t just ditch him on Christmas Eve. I thought we agreed to wait until after the wedding to move in.”

  Eli frowned. “I don’t remember agreeing to anything. I’m not even sure we ever talked about our wedding night.”

  They rode in silence until they reached the stoplight at Main and Creekside.

  “I’m sorry, Eli. Jamie is an adult. He knows what goes on behind bedroom doors. It’s gonna be awkward for me. And for him.”

  “And for me. It’ll be awkward for all three of us the first night, regardless of where we sleep. Even more so for me if we stay at your house. I�
�ve slept on your couch many a night, but I’d feel like an intruder if I slept in your bed, in your room, with you. My apartment is too small, so that’s out of the question. At least at the new house everything will be different for all three of us. The preconceptions work in our favor. Jamie is expecting us to share the master bedroom.”

  “You make a good point. But Heidi is banking on the house being empty for the wedding brunch. We can’t have our guests tripping over moving boxes. Why the sudden rush to move in?”

  “I’m excited. That’s all. And, if we move a little each day, it’ll be easier in the long run.” He turned left into the parking lot at the market and pulled into an empty space. He shifted toward her, taking her face in his hands and kissing her lips. “Let’s not argue. Everything will fall into place. We’ve been through a lot this week. We’ll be so tired it won’t matter where we sleep on Christmas Eve as long as we have a place to rest our heads.”

  “And a Christmas tree for our gifts,” she said, kissing him back. “Even if we have to sit on the floor while we open them.”

  “That’s my girl.” He held his hand up for a high five. “Now get in there and get to work. Leave the wedding night plans to me.”

  Two unexpected guests paid Sam a visit at the market on Wednesday afternoon. Despite the dark shadows under his eyes, Oliver Rainey was every bit as elegant as she’d imagined. Judging from his attire—red cashmere sweater, gray flannel slacks, and Gucci loafers—he’d driven straight from his dinner party to the airport, while Sophia looked as though she’d traveled to hell and back. She peeked through her curtain of dank hair, like rust-colored draperies in an outdated hotel room, and Sam could see her face was splotchy from crying.

  “I hope you don’t mind us barging in on you like this,” Rainey said, observing the crowded showroom. “I can see you’re busy. We won’t take but a minute of your time.”

  Jamie came out from the back and introduced himself to Oliver Rainey with a firm handshake. He turned to Sophia. “I see they let you out on bail. I hope that means you’re going home. Your suitcase is on my front porch.”