Big Bucks by Kirsten Weiss

Author:Kirsten Weiss [Kirsten Weiss]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kirsten Weiss
Published: 2022-08-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Holli was dead.

I was in jail.

It was, I had to say, a very nice jail. I smoothed the bed’s down comforter and dropped into a modern, blue-cushioned chair. With its sand-colored walls and faux-wood floors, my cell looked like a tiny yoga studio. Aside from the heavy, metal door with a porthole in the top.

Maybe I’d try meditating later, or at least do some tai chi. I pressed a bell in the wall.

After a few moments, a uniformed female officer peered through the window. Locks clanked, and she opened the door. “Can I get you anything?” Her nametag read Sergeant Juarez.

I picked up the paper menu. “Do you really have cappuccino?”

“Yes. We’ve got a Keurig.”

“I’ll try a cappuccino.”

“What about breakfast? We have scrambled eggs, oatmeal, or pancakes today.”

“Oatmeal, please.”

“Sure.” She smiled and retreated, locking the door behind her.

I stretched back in my comfy chair. Hot Springs might be onto something. It was hard to feel violent amidst such luxury. But it was still a small, locked room, and I didn’t want to stay here. My insides jittered unpleasantly.

The police seemed to be trying to work out how many crimes they could charge me with. And I couldn’t entirely blame them. I’d now found two Levann bodies at the mansion. I looked suspicious as hell.

The oatmeal came with walnuts and berries on top. The cappuccino was pretty good too. I was mid-way through my tai chi practice when the same jailer unlocked and opened my door.

“You’re free to go,” she said cheerfully.

I let my arms drop to my sides. “I am?”

“All the charges were dropped. You’ll want your things back, I’ll expect.” She turned and walked away.

Hastily, I pulled on my boots. I followed her to a wide window that looked more like a hotel reception desk.

The smiling sergeant handed me a plastic bag full of my things. “Be sure to double check that you got everything back,” he said. “We try to be careful, but mistakes do happen.”

I rifled through my things. “It all seems okay.”

“Are you sure? You might want to doublecheck.”

“It’s fine,” I ground out.

“Then sign here.” He pushed a computer tablet across the high desk and handed me a stylus.

“Oh, good.” Detective Guthrie strode toward me in another Armani suit. “You’re leaving.”

“I’m the wind, baby.” I signed the form.

“You’re a pain in my—”

“Ah, ah. You might offend my delicate sensibilities.” I handed the sergeant the tablet.

“What sensibilities?” Guthrie asked.

“Was there something you wanted to ask me,” I said, “or are you just here to gloat?”

“I’m here to make sure you go.”

“If you think I’d hang around, you’re grossly overestimating your station’s charms. The coffee’s good, but it’s not that good.”

He sighed and pivoted, striding down the hall. “This way.”

“Sure. Why not.” I followed Guthrie to the reception area.

Charlie leapt from a leather chair. “Alice! You’re free!” He pulled me into a rough hug and stepped away, tugging down the hem of his yachting blazer. Today he wore plain, pale blue board shorts beneath it. I guessed he was going for a more dignified look than parrots.

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