Chapter 23 #2
We’re so engrossed in waiting for the final reveal that I jump out of my skin when my cell phone rings. I grab it from the coffee table and frown at the screen, not recognizing the number. I almost don’t answer it, but the number is local, so I hit the green button and hold it to my ear.
“Hello, this is Officer Dewitt. I’m looking for Miss Hazel Burton.”
“Speaking.” I lean forward as Del mutes the TV.
“Miss Burton, I’d like to inform you that officers apprehended a suspect when they went to inspect your apartment.”
“Oh my god, really?”
“Yes, we are conducting interviews now, but we’d like you to come down to the station and make a formal ID.”
I swallow, looking at Del, feeling my heart thunder in my chest. “Um, yes…of course, that’s fine. I don’t drive though, so—”
“I can arrange for a black and white to collect you. I have two in the area anyway.”
“That would be great, thank you.”
“No problem. I’ll let the officers know. They’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”
“Okay, see you then.”
I hang up in shock. “They went to my apartment.” I swallow. “They’ve taken someone in for questioning.”
“Shit, really? Oh fuck!”
“What?”
She looks uncomfortable but reluctantly answers anyway. “If you hadn’t come back with me…” she lets her voice trail off, but I don’t need her to finish.
“I’d have been there when they returned, perhaps to finish the job.”
I’m off the sofa and running to the bathroom before it’s even a conscious thought, emptying my stomach once more. Dammit. I’ve hardly kept anything down today. This can’t be good for the baby. Del follows behind me and pulls my hair out of the way before handing me a washcloth.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
She helps me to my feet and takes the cloth from me, rinsing it under the warm water before wiping my face with it.
“You’re safe now.”
“I know. I do. It’s just a lot.”
“Of course it is.”
I blow out a steadying breath. “The police are coming to pick me up to see if I can ID the suspect.”
“I didn’t realize police did pick-ups. But maybe they’re trying to make up for their shitty behavior earlier.”
“Maybe.”
“Want me to come with you?”
I think about it for a minute before shaking my head. “No, I don’t know how long I’ll be, and you’ve gotta open the diner early. I promise I’ll call if I need you, though.”
“You better.”
I offer her a wobbly smile before I brush my teeth and pull my hair back into a ponytail.
I head back to my bedroom, slip an oversized hoodie on over my sweatpants and T-shirt, and slide my feet into a pair of sneakers.
I grab my bag and throw in my phone, wallet, and a bottle of water before returning to the couch to wait.
It doesn’t take long before I hear a knock on the door. Del answers and asks to see their ID before waving me over. “Call me if you need me.”
“I will.”
“Miss Burton?” the officer asks. I nod as he indicates for me to follow.
I walk down the steps to the police car and wait for him to open the back door before I slide in.
Can’t say I’m a big fan of sitting behind the cage like this, and god only knows what kind of action these seats have seen.
I try not to think about it as my stomach is still unsettled.
Instead, I lean my head against the cool glass and prepare myself for what’s to come.
When we arrive at the precinct, I’m shown into a small room with a large mirror that I suspect is two-way glass. I could be wrong, of course, but I’ve watched enough movies to be suspicious.
“Can I get you anything to drink while you wait?” the woman who showed me in asks.
“I’m fine, thank you. I have a bottle of water in my bag.” She hesitates, her eyes moving to my bag. “The officer who brought me in checked my bag, but you’re welcome to look, too.”
“Sorry, I will take a quick look if you don’t mind. I don’t want to risk my job.”
“I get it.” I hand my bag over and let her go through it. It doesn’t take long—inside are only my phone, wallet, and water bottle.
“Thanks for that. I’ll leave you to it. The officer shouldn’t be long.”
“Okay, no problem.”
She closes the door behind herself, leaving me alone.
I’m glad I wore the sweatshirt, as it’s pretty chilly here.
I fold my arms and lean on the table while waiting for the officer.
I sigh loudly and pull my phone from my bag when I realize it’s taking longer than I thought it would.
I check the time. I’ve been waiting here for over fifty minutes.
I toss the phone back in my bag and stand up, stretching out the kinks. Those chairs are not built for pregnant women, that’s for sure. I walk around the room, letting my blood circulate, before taking a seat once more.
After another twenty minutes, I start to get pissed.
I could have just as easily come in tomorrow if they were busy.
I grab my water but only take a sip because I already need the toilet.
I tap my fingers on the tabletop and hum a tune to break up the boredom before my bladder really starts to make itself known.
It’s another fifteen minutes before I know I won’t be able to hold myself much longer. I eye the door, but the last thing I want is to accidentally end up in some off-limits area and find myself in trouble. I google the station’s phone number and call reception.
When they answer, I barely manage to bite back a growl. “Look, I came here to ID a suspect, but I’ve been sitting in this room for hours. I’m tired, cold, and pregnant, which means my bladder is about to explode. If someone doesn’t come and fetch me, I’m going to leave a puddle on the floor.”
“Ma’am, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“My name is Hazel Burton. I’m sitting in one of your freaking interrogation rooms or interview rooms, whatever the heck they’re called.”
“I’m sorry. Can you hold for a second?”
Before I can say anything, annoying music pipes through the phone. I hang up and barely refrain from throwing my phone across the room.
After a few minutes, the door opens, and a woman walks in, looking shocked. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know anyone was here.”
“At the moment, I don’t care about the details. I just really need to pee.”
“Oh, of course. Please come with me.”
I grab my bag, unwilling to risk leaving it, and follow the woman out. She walks me down a corridor and turns to say something when a male voice barks out, “What is she doing here?”
I frown as the woman jumps and looks around. “She needed the bathroom, sir.”
“Well, she’ll just have to wait. We don’t have all damn day.”
“Excuse me?”
“No, I don’t think I will. I don’t have time to deal with lovers’ tiffs and—”
I cut him off with a snarl. “I don’t know who you are, and right now, I don’t care. My baby is jumping on my bladder, and I am two seconds away from pissing myself. If you don’t let me use the facilities, I’m going to call every goddamn news outlet in the city.”
“What’s going on here?” a man in a suit barks before a familiar voice wraps itself around me.
“Legs?”