Night Work by Culver Chris

Author:Culver, Chris
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-08-13T00:00:00+00:00

23

The cops talked in front of my Subaru for several minutes, giving me a moment to think. My best option was to sit quietly and let Detective Johnson and the uniformed officers work. Once they pressed charges, I’d get a lawyer, who’d poke so many holes in their case even a blind person would be able to see through it. Then I’d sue everyone for harassment and wrongful prosecution. The trick would be surviving long enough to make it to court. That wasn’t a sure bet.

Eventually, the Asian officer got in the cruiser in which I sat.

“I’d like to call a lawyer.”

The officer looked over his shoulder to back out of the driveway but didn’t acknowledge me or my request. Detective Johnson’s unmarked Volvo followed us. I gritted my teeth and waited.

We drove for a few minutes and then parked outside the Bryant County Sheriff’s Office’s headquarters. My driver opened my door and reached for my elbow to escort me out of the car. The department already had my personal information, and Detective Johnson declined to take my fingerprints or confiscate my civilian clothes. Once we were inside, she patted me down again but declined to give me a full body search for drugs or other weapons. More than likely, that meant they didn’t plan to hold me here. Or that they were terrible at their jobs. Either was possible.

The station had three holding cells in the basement. The Caucasian officer escorted me to the one nearest the stairs. A young man sat in the far cell. Like me, he wore civilian clothes. An empty cell separated us. Tears streaked down his cheeks, and his eyes were red. Hopefully he wasn’t talkative. The uniformed officer removed my handcuffs and was about to shut my cell door when I cleared my throat.

“Hey,” I said. “I’d like to make a phone call, please. My dog is alone in my cabin. I need somebody to take care of him, and I’d like to call an attorney.”

He smiled at me.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.”

He left. Then I sat down on the bed and lowered my head. The kid looked at me and opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off.

“I’m not in a talking mood, buddy,” I said. “I’ve had a bad day.”

“My mom was murdered today.”

I shifted on the cold, metal slab. If they had planned to keep me overnight, they would have given me a mattress. Hopefully I wouldn’t be here too much longer.

“Sorry for your loss,” I said. “Are you Frannie Hopkins’s kid?”

He nodded but said nothing.

“Why’d they arrest you?” I asked.

“I’m not under arrest. This is protective custody.”

I looked at him. His cell door was closed.

“Can you leave if you wanted?”

He shook his head.

“If you can’t leave, you’re under arrest,” I said. “Why are you in protective custody?”

“They thought I was in danger,” he said.

“From whom?”

“I can’t talk about that.”

Nothing about this situation was right. My stomach hurt, and muscles all over my body ached. A heavy weight seemed to press down on me as I stood and paced.

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