Chapter 9
Warren Atwell’s Legal Briefs: Warrants before wedlock.
“Wakey, wakey, eggs, and bakey,” a sharp voice pulled me out of a fitful sleep.
I swore I felt things crawling on my arms and legs all night.
Every time I dozed off, something tickled my arm hairs and nearly sent me onto the floor.
As I was unsure about the cleanliness of this holding cell floor, I remained on the bug-infested cot, as it were.
“Did you finally bring a phone?” Avery glared at Detective Ward.
The detective grinned at my cellmate and held up a phone. “Sure did. Y’all need to call someone before your blessed union at the courthouse? Parents? Friends? Minister?”
“We are fine.” I stood from the cot and smoothed the wrinkles in my trousers as best as I could.
“Why do you look like you didn’t sleep in jail all night?” Avery frowned at me.
I glanced down at my pants and shirt. “I attempt to purchase wrinkle-free items whenever possible.”
Avery rolled her eyes at me.
“Why does this irritate you so?”
She threw up her hands. “I don’t know. Maybe because I spent the night on an uncomfortable cot waiting for a phone call I was supposed to get but didn’t.
” She glared at Detective Ward. “And here we are being hauled off to the courthouse by a much-too-happy-about-it police detective who seems to think the rules and laws of the land don’t apply to her. ”
Detective Ward clutched her chest. “Hurtful!”
“Avery, there is no use agitating the police officer who is about to let us out of a holding cell,” I whispered.
She sighed. “Fine. Take us to our cars to get this show on the road.”
The detective rattled the keys as she unlocked our cage. The door swung open on well-oiled hinges that made no sounds. “Yeah, about that. I’m afraid I have to accompany you to the courthouse. We’re adhering to the spirit of the law here.”
I paused to consider the redhead detective. She wore frayed jeans and a T-shirt that said, Underestimate me, that’ll be fun.
“Is that some sort of undercover uniform?” I asked.
Detective Ward laughed. “Something like that. Although full disclosure, I did borrow this T-shirt from my uncle. He won’t miss it.”
We followed the detective through the building.
Only a handful of people milled about. They all wore suspicious bulges under their jackets, five-o’clock scruff despite it being morning, and hard stares, resembling black ops mercenaries with dubious pasts.
Out of the corner of my eye, I swore I saw a familiar brown-haired man clad in all black walking toward us in a perpendicular hallway.
When I turned to see who it was, no one was there.
I frowned. “Where is this place? This does not look like any police precinct I have ever seen.”
Detective Ward led the way out the door and into the parking lot. “This is a sort-of overflow facility, courtesy of a company that contracts with the government. It’s perfectly legitimate and nothing you need to worry about. Thank you very much.”
The hair on my neck stood up. Why would she point that out? I certainly hoped we had not been detained illegally. I made a mental note to investigate when we arrived at the courthouse, and I had access to the internet again.
We once again rode in the back of her black Cadillac as she maneuvered the vehicle through what appeared to be a planned neighborhood.
The neat lawns and inordinate number of senior citizens walking, bicycling, or tooling around on golf carts.
If I did not know any better, I would swear we were in Pleasure Point.
Avery leaned toward me, and the scent of jasmine teased my senses. I closed my eyes to savor her proximity until she poked me. “Wake up, almost husband.”
My insides warmed at the word. Husband. There had not been a time in my life when I considered taking on that title.
Intellectually, I understood that someday, I might want to marry and have a family.
But emotionally, I never felt ready. I still did not.
But when Avery said that word, something switched inside me.
I turned to look at her. Her hair was even wilder this morning.
She had been running her fingers through it since she awoke, cursing at the snarls.
Her finger-combing increased the volume of her hair, causing it to become even bouncier.
I liked it. It framed her face and highlighted her light brown eyes.
Eyes that burned lasers into the back of the detective’s head in the driver’s seat.
Avery’s mouth flattened, and I thought about what it would feel like to kiss those lips and run the tip of my tongue along the seam, begging her to open for me.
“You’re staring.” Avery dragged me out of my thoughts.
I coughed and glanced out the window before looking back at her. “You asked me to wake up. I am awake. I am paying attention. How may I be of assistance?” I rambled. It was getting hot in the backseat of this car. I tugged on my shirt collar to circulate air next to my heated skin.
Avery opened her mouth to say something when Detective Ward stopped the car.
“We’re here!” Detective Ward announced and threw the car into park. “Let’s get you guys hitched!”
I heard chuckling as she exited the vehicle and stood beside the backseat door next to Avery.
“Does this seem weird to you?” Avery’s eyes were wider than I had ever seen them.
I glanced past Avery to Detective Ward and the courthouse beyond. “It does seem unconventional.”
“What’s with the ‘overflow jail’ being in a gated community?”
“Gated community?” I must have missed that while contemplating my future as Avery’s husband.
“Yeah. There was a massive wall and gate. A guard shack. Warren, you need to pay attention to this shit. Something ain’t right,” Avery whispered.
Detective Ward opened the back door and ushered us onto the sidewalk. Another police officer stood by with his hand on his firearm.
“Officer Bodie will escort you to the clerk’s office.” Detective Ward shoved our phones into our hands. “So much shenanigans to inspire, so little time, you know.”
“What?” I asked.
The redhead hopped into the Cadillac without answering me, then peeled away from the curb, leaving a slight track of rubber on the pavement.
We stood there with Officer Bodie, a man in his 30s with smooth brown skin, green eyes, and a smirk directed toward Avery.
I did not care for that one bit. I stepped closer to her.
Avery seemed oblivious and showed me the black screen on her phone. “My phone is out of juice. Check yours.”
Mine was dead as well.
“Where are our car keys?” I asked.
“Ms. Hunter, Mr. Atwell, you’ll get those when our marriage business is finished. Allow me to show you the way.” Officer Bodie swept his arm toward the front door.
“We know where the circuit clerk’s office is,” I said. “But thank you for the assistance.”
The man smiled. “Oh, I insist. After you.”
I walked the halls of the Avis County Courthouse many times.
But I had never felt so exposed as I did on this day.
I felt eyes boring into the sides of our heads as the workers tried to figure out what we were doing in the courthouse with an armed escort.
Perhaps it was my imagination playing tricks on me.
Or perhaps I was nervous about what we had to do when we arrived at the circuit clerk’s office.
Which was a short trip down the hallway.
“Here we are,” Officer Bodie announced as he pushed open the door.
A petite black woman wearing a vibrant pink wig and neon purple contacts sat behind the tall clerk’s counter, partially obscured by its imposing height.
Her fingers, adorned with long, pointy nails, clicked and clacked rhythmically on the keyboard, creating a steady beat in the quiet space.
A small smile played on her lips as she worked, and I briefly wondered what was so funny.
“Hey, Farrah.” Officer Bodie leaned on the counter. “Got two people who need to be married here.”
“Oooh! Baby! Don’t you look good enough to eat?” Farrah hopped out of her chair and scurried around the counter to hug the police officer around the waist. He seemed unconcerned that this woman could disarm him if she chose. Maybe that was due to her five-foot-tall stature.
“How’s your mama?” Farrah asked.
“She’s good. Good. Had the flu a few months back, but she’s on the mend,” Bodie said with a kilowatt smile.
“You tell her I’m sending her prayerful love, baby.” Farrah crossed herself, then realized she was not alone with her favorite police officer. “Who’d you bring me?”
“Warren Atwell and Avery Hunter,” Officer Bodie said.
“Oooh. They sound like they’re starring in a new television series like on those NetHulaHoops.
” Farrah pressed her lips together and nodded at both of us.
“Yes, indeed. Crimefighters, perhaps.” She closed one eye and tilted her head.
“No. Newlyweds! Yes, that makes sense. Yes. Yes. Yes.” The woman shuffled back behind the counter and began typing furiously on the keyboard.
“Atwell, Hunter—” She bit her lip as she typed, then she sucked in a breath and looked directly at me.
I leaned away from the counter.
“Mr. Atwell, it’s a good idea before getting married to see that the warrants against you are taken care of,” Farrah chided.
My stomach plunged. “What warrants?”
“There is a warrant out for your arrest in Chicago.” Farrah dropped her voice. “Manslaughter.”
Officer Body snapped open his holster and flipped off the safety of his gun. Avery took a step away from me. And Farrah, who apparently had a death wish, leaned over the counter to look me up and down.
“You don’t look like a murderer,” she clucked.
“That is because I am not. Nor have I been to Chicago recently,” I answered. “When was this arrest warrant issued?”
Farrah squinted at her computer screen. “Three days ago, baby.”
I relaxed. “Three days ago, I was in town. Here, as a matter of fact. I was representing a client in a divorce arbitration.”