Chapter 28 #2
Talking about them, even though some things were made up, brought back some of that pain and confusion of a seven-year-old child being told that her parents were gone. And they were only the first of many to leave her behind, each one taking a part of her with them when they did.
“Miss Morrow?” Takeda prompted.
Jal shook off the memories. “Ah, I’m sorry detective, it’s just been so long since I’ve talked about them.”
Unlike his partner, who looked like she had already made up her mind, and not in Jal’s favor, Takeda’s eyes were kind and patient. “Of course, can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?”
Jal shook her head, but Takeda still turned to his partner. “Do you mind getting some water?” he asked, running a finger under his collar. “It is pretty stuffy in here.”
Detective Ward’s eyes widened. Clearly not used to being dismissed, she rose stiffly to her feet and left the room. Takeda tapped his pen on his notepad and gave her a reassuring smile. “Now, you were saying?”
The room was somehow cooler without his partner scowling at them and Jal felt like she could finally take a deep breath.
“After my parents died, my grandmother got everything, and she, thankfully, set some of it aside for me, and used the rest for my upkeep. She died two years after I moved to New York–so a little more than eight years ago–and I went back to sell the trailer and the little bit of property that she had. I’ve lived on the proceeds ever since. ”
Takeda continued to write a moment longer and then paused to reread it. Please say something, she thought as the silence stretched a little too long with him studying his notes. Another interminable moment later, he raised his head, and gripped the pen between the fingers of both hands.
“I think the last thing I need to ask is why someone would want to make an allegation that you had stolen goods in your apartment.” His words were careful, as if he were still working out what he wanted to say as he asked it.
“The judge wouldn’t have granted a search warrant just based on a random allegation. ”
Jal’s heartbeat ratcheted up a little. “As I said, Detective, I never knew how deep my ex’s contacts went. Two years ago, when I told him I was leaving, he nearly killed me by pushing me down a flight of stairs, then drove off and got into an accident and killed someone.”
Takeda’s eyebrows rose, but he kept making notes.
Jal sighed, but only so she wouldn’t scream.
“Andy got two years for reckless driving resulting in physical injury. Not vehicular homicide, not attempted murder, but reckless driving.” She pounded her fist on the armrest for emphasis.
“He should have gone away for far longer than two years, but he had some fancy high-powered lawyer to get him out of it.”
Ciaran squeezed her hand, and only then did she notice how much she was trembling.
She gave him a grateful look and turned back to Takeda.
“Ciaran told me the police arrested Andy yesterday after the fight in the park. I guarantee that this was all just a retaliation. Andy has made it very clear that if I won’t be his, then no one can have me.
” She shuddered. “Maybe he wanted to terrorize me by having my home searched, my privacy violated. Maybe he thought that he’d get some kind of leverage out of it, I don’t know. ”
Takeda took more notes and then nodded. “Well, I think that’s all we need for today.
” He reached into the center of the table and the plastic crinkled as he piled the bags on top of his portfolio.
“I’m afraid that we need to keep these for now, but I’ll make sure you have the paperwork to take home so you can claim it at the appropriate time.
” His hand moved again, this time to turn off the recording, and then stood.
Jal climbed laboriously to her feet as if the weight of memory and no small amount of guilt had settled between her shoulders like a boulder.
Her eyes locked on the envelope on the table, which held nearly all of her money.
Ciaran stepped close and tucked her against his side and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
Takeda extended a hand, shaking each of theirs in turn. “Thank you for coming in,” he said. “We’ll look into everything and get back to you soon. You’re not under arrest at this time, but I will ask that you don’t leave Manhattan, and make sure we have up-to-date contact information.”
“You have that already,” Ciaran said. “For both of us.”
“Then you’re good to go.”
“Thank you, Detective.” Jal forced a smile.
Takeda gestured to the door, and they circled around the table just as it opened. Ward froze with her hand on the knob, her other arm laden with bottles of water. “Derek?” she asked, her eyes shooting to her partner.
“We’re done here,” Takeda replied.
Her eyes narrowed, but she stepped aside to allow them to pass.
“Which way?” Ciaran asked.
Ward pointed to their right. “See that exit sign down there? Follow it.”
Jal thanked her, though it rubbed something raw to do so. Anything to get the hell out of here as soon as possible.
“Stop at the desk warden before you leave to get your receipt.” Takeda said, joining his partner in the doorway.
“Thank you, detective.” She repeated, though it was much easier the second time.
Ciaran put a hand on her lower back and led the way. From behind them, Jal heard the sound of the door closing again and then a raised female voice. They picked up their pace, before Ward could convince her partner of whatever grudge she had and they came running after her.
They waited at the counter just before the door to the small reception area while a kind woman with dark skin and the widest bun of tiny braids that Jal had ever seen atop her head, printed out the receipt for her property.
She took a couple of steps backwards and hovered her hand over where the paper would come out of the printer ready to catch it, but instead of paper came a grinding noise and her smile became a scowl.
“That’s the fifth time today,” she groused and pulled open an access door. “I’m sorry folks, it will be just a minute.”
“No problem,” Jal replied, the fingers tapping away on the counter belying her casual tone.
“We’ll be out of here soon, lass,” Ciaran told her, his hand rubbing slow circles on her lower back. She gave in to the urge to lean against him, needing to be closer to him. Like skin-to-skin closer.
“Thank you,” she said, looking up to meet his gaze. “I didn’t get a chance to say it earlier, but thank you for coming so quickly. I didn’t pull you out of anything important, did I?”
“It doesn’t matter. This was more important.
” His tone was casual, as he leaned in and placed a quick kiss on her lips, but she got the impression that he wasn’t being completely honest. Before she could say anything, there was an electronic buzz and the large metal door to their right slid open, hitting the end of its track with a metallic clang that boomed through the space.
The officer continued digging in the bowels of the printer. She probably heard it dozens of times a day, but Jal’s head snapped over, the sound vibrating through the desk and up her arm.
A middle-aged man in a gray suit and combed back hair appeared first, a coat slung over his arm with a briefcase clutched in the same hand. He looked vaguely familiar, but Jal couldn’t place him until he said something over his shoulder and the response turned her blood to ice.
“Yeah, yeah, Vic. I heard ya,” Andy grumbled as he emerged from the doorway and straightened to his full height. He didn’t immediately spot them, his attention was fixed on his lawyer, Victor Troiani, the same one who had represented him two years ago and almost got Andy off without penalty.
Pond scum, she thought, the both of them.
A bit of satisfaction filled her chest as she studied him. One of Andy’s eyes was blackened, a cut over his other eye was crisscrossed with white strips to hold it closed. His clothes were dirty, though he now wore a sweatshirt that didn’t quite hide the blood spots on his t-shirt.
Jal tilted her head in Ciaran’s direction and whispered out of the corner of her mouth, “nice work.”
It might have been the movement, or the sound of her voice, however faint, that did it, but Andy’s head snapped in her direction. Jal would have cursed if she wasn’t using all her focus to keep her back straight and her chin high.
The smile that spread across Andy’s face at the sight of her was pleased, like a jackal who had just spotted its next meal. Her skin already felt like it was coated with something slimy, like Vic’s hair gel or the trail they left on the floor as they approached. “There you are!”
He spotted Ciaran behind her as he approached and his eyes narrowed for a moment before his lips shifted, his smile becoming much more feline.
He held out his hand as if he were expecting her to take it.
“Nice of you to bring her here, man,” he said to Ciaran, like he was just the chauffeur. “Ready to go, Sam?”
She looked down at his hand, at the calluses and rough skin that showed just how far from the polished businessman he had come. She stepped back out of Andy’s reach and collided with Ciaran’s chest.
“Go?” If there was a limit to how much incredulity someone could put into two little letters, she shattered it with a sledgehammer.
“Go? Are you fucking kidding me? And for the last time, Sam doesn’t exist anymore.
You killed her, along with any right to anything to do with me, when you threw me down the stairs. ”
Andy gritted his teeth, and a red flush creeped up what little neck he had above his massive shoulders. He reached for her hand again and Jal wrenched it away so hard she whacked her knuckles on the desk behind her. She fought to keep her face blank, but the pain did help clear her head.
“Do we have a problem here?” the desk officer barked from over Jal's shoulder.
Jal spared a quick glance to find her standing with her arms braced on the counter, glowering at Andy.
To their right, the two detectives appeared from the interview room, drawn by the raised voices. For the first time, Takeda’s eyes were dark chips of flint, his lips drawn in a thin line. Both detectives had their hands poised instinctively over their weapons.
Jal returned her gaze to Andy and raised her eyebrow.
She didn’t know where the confidence came from, whether it was the man behind her, the fact that they were in the middle of a police station, or maybe just that she had changed.
Whatever it was, there was nothing that Andy could do other than back down and leave.
His lawyer broke the silence when he put a hand under his elbow. “Let’s go.”
The look Andy leveled on him was nothing short of murderous, but he knew that he didn’t have many choices that didn’t end with him right back in a cell and a one-way trip back to Rikers.
He didn’t resist when Vic towed him away until he stopped at the door and leveled a look at the desk officer who had to buzz the door.
She ground her teeth as if debating the merits of letting such an “upstanding citizen” back out onto the streets. “Is there a problem, officer?” Vic asked.
She sized up Andy for a moment and then clicked her tongue and pushed the button.
Andy wrenched the handle and pulled the buzzing door open, ushering his lawyer through first. The smile on his face was tight, but his eyes sparkled with promise when he met her gaze.
“I’ll see you soon, Samantha.”