32. Jailbirds
Jailbirds
Victoria
I was putting a dent in Knox’s credit card when I received an incoming call.
“Hello?” I answered, not paying attention to the caller ID. I was more concerned with figuring out which store I’d hit up next.
“Ms. Caldwell, this is Special Agent Domer.”
I froze. Even through the line, he sounded like someone who was about to deliver bad news. I tightened my grip around the phone and the shopping bags.
“Special Agent Domer. Did you… did you get a chance to speak with my sisters?”
There was a pause before he replied.
“We attempted to; however, things didn’t go as planned.” My heart sank, fearing the worst. They were cruel to me, and I wanted justice, but that didn’t mean I wanted them harmed.
“What happened?” I asked breathlessly.
“When we arrived to conduct the interview, your sister Faith became combative with an officer, and Hope was attempting to destroy evidence. Both were immediately taken into custody.”
The words slammed into me like a bus.
“Taken into custody? They’re arrested?”
“Yes, ma’am. Given the seriousness of the fraud and identity-theft allegations, and the new charges, including tampering with evidence and assault of an agent, they will be held, likely without bail.
We’ve recovered several items matching the personal belongings you described in your statement, including your identification, electronics, and a recipe book. We’re cataloging them now.”
I leaned against the storefront window in a daze. I was shocked. You always heard how sluggish the legal system was, and here it was, three weeks post-island, and my sisters were already incarcerated.
“You’re welcome to come down to our field office this afternoon to identify and collect the recovered property. It will help us close the evidence chain.”
I swallowed hard. I was getting the closure and the justice I wanted, but it was still painful—painful but necessary.
“Text me the address. I’ll be there.”
“Of course. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
“Will I be able to speak with them?”
“That can be arranged.”
“Thank you, Agent Domer. I’ll see you soon.”
I hung up, and my first thought was to call Knox, but I quickly abandoned that thought. I needed to handle this myself.
* * *
By the time I pulled into the concrete parking lot of the federal field office, my palms were slipping and sliding against the steering wheel from the dampness. The building had looked exactly how I expected—nondescript with a flag pole outside with a flag lowered half-mast, snapping in the wind.
I threw up a prayer and asked God to calm my nerves before venturing into the office. My teeth chattered as soon as I entered the office, and the air smelled faintly of citrus disinfectant, coffee, and toner.
“May I help you, ma’am?” the officer at the reception desk asked.
“Yes, I’m Victoria Caldwell,” I said, voice coming out steadier than I felt. “Special Agent Domer is expecting me.”
“I need to see some identification. Please sign in, here,” he said, extending a clipboard with a pen attached by a silver chain.
I fished my ID out of my wallet, slid it over to him, and signed in while he contacted Agent Domer.
“Thank you, Ms. Caldwell,” he said, nodding towards the metal detector. “Place your bag on the belt, remove any metal, keys, watch, belt, et cetera, and step through.”
I did as I was instructed and walked through the detector. I’m handed back my belongings along with a visitor badge that was clipped to a lanyard.
“Please have a seat,” he said, pointing to a set of plastic blue chairs. “Someone will be down to collect you.”
My feet tapped on the gleaming tile floor as I waited. I didn’t have to wait long until a man in a suit appeared, calling my name.
“Ms. Caldwell?”
I stood and took his outstretched hand.
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m Special Agent Fuentes, Special Agent Domer’s partner. I have been assisting him with your case. Will you please follow me?”
We rode an elevator to the third floor, and when the doors opened, we were met by another suit with tired eyes.
“Ms. Caldwell. I’m Special Agent Domer. It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for coming.”
We shook hands.
“Thank you for your diligence.”
He gestured for me to follow him down a corridor lined with closed doors and security cameras. “We’ve logged the items, and they’re ready for you to view and sign off on. But before that, we can take you to see your sisters. They’re being held for processing.”
“Do they know that I’m here?”
“They are aware you’re coming,” he answered.
We stopped at a door with a small window. Special Agent Domer swiped a badge against the card reader, and the lock clicked open.
The room was exactly how I pictured it—cold, sterile, white walls, a bolted-down table, plastic chairs, and a glass viewing wall. Through the glass, I see Hope and Faith sitting side-by-side, looking annoyed and disheveled.
I sucked my teeth.
They couldn’t even bother to pretend to be remorseful.
“Can I go in?”
“You may,” Agent Domer confirmed. “You can speak with them for a few minutes. There will be an officer present in the room with you at all times. Once you’re finished, I’ll bring you to evidence to identify your property.”
“Okay.”
“Are you ready?”
I nodded.
He opened the door and motioned me inside.
I stepped forth, Hope and Faith’s eyes lifted.
For a second, the years fell away, and I felt as if my childhood was staring back at me.
It wasn’t all bad. Not every day was a nightmare, but it was enough to leave a permanent stain.
But then I saw the handcuffs and was snapped back to reality.
I pulled out the chair opposite them and sat, setting my handbag on the table.
We sized each other up—taking in the differences.
Before the island, I hadn’t seen them for three months.
The difference was jarring, especially Faith’s chest, which was no longer a modest B-cup.
Her new breasts looked to be a voluptuous DD.
She always complained about her “small boobs” and had picked on me growing up because I was more developed than she was.
Hope’s waist was snatched to the gods—she’d finally gotten that lipo she’d always wanted.
These bitches really stole my money and had their bodies done.
“I wish that things could’ve been different.
I wish that you two had made better choices and weren’t facing twenty years in federal prison.
I wish that Mom could’ve been surrounded by her daughters one last time before she passed, but that’s not going to happen.
I didn’t come here to scream at you,” I said, looking from one to the other.
“I came here because I need to understand why. I need to know why you hacked my accounts, stole my identity, and raided my apartment. Do you know what happened to Mom after you stole from me?”
Faith cracked immediately.
“I’m sorry! You weren’t supposed to come back!” she cried out, tears spilling out of the corner of her eyes. They zig-zagged down until they dripped onto the metal table.
My throat tightened, but I pushed the words out anyway.
“Are you even aware of the shit you caused when you stole from me?”
They didn’t respond. Instead, Faith kept sniffling, and Hope stared at me like she smelled sour milk.
“Mom was evicted from her memory care facility, but you know this. You both were out trying to look like IG models on my dime while Mom was shuffled from the facility to the hospital to some raggedy nursing home I wouldn’t put my worst enemy in.”
“How’s Mom doing?” Faith asked.
My throat tightened, but I pushed forward.
“She’s safe, and she is receiving the best care money can buy. She’s with me. But…I don’t think she’ll be around much longer.”
“I’m sorry,” Faith whispered softly, lowering her head.
I nodded because I genuinely believed her.
“Victoria, what we did was fucked up. I’ll admit that, but why are you doing all of this when you’re with a fucking billionaire!” Hope seethed, lurching forward in her chair.
“Back up!” the guard barked.
Hope instantly complied, and from her hardened expression, I knew I’d never get through to her.
“When will you get it through your head that it’s not about the money?
It’s about the principle. You stole from me—down to my fucking ice molds, and when you stole from me, you put our mother’s well-being in jeopardy.
She wasn’t Mom of the Year by any means, but she was the only parent we had, and she loved us and did the best she could to raise us on her own.
For too long, I let the shit you did to me slide because I held out hope.
I thought that one day, we’d get older, become wiser, and a real conversation could be had.
But one thing the island taught me was survival.
And survival isn’t clinging to the people who keep hurting you.
It’s knowing when to let go. I’m done being your safety net.
You made your choices, and now you have to live with them.
I won’t be posting bail or depositing money into your commissary account.
I won’t be making any further statements, and I won’t write the judge a letter begging for leniency. Take care of yourselves.”
* * *
Tears swam in my eyes as I flipped through the pages of my mother’s recipe book while sitting in my driveway. A page slipped out, and I nearly burst into tears as I read the lemon bar recipe.
“Sh-she burnt the shit out of these damn lemon bars,” I said to myself, choking on a sob that eventually turned into laughter.
I jumped when Knox knocked on the window with his cane handle. I rolled down the window with a tearful scowl on my face.
“Can’t a woman cry in peace?”
“Not my woman,” he said, affectionately tracing a tear away with his thumb.
God, I love this man.
“How did it go?”
“It… it felt good. It was cathartic in ways that I never imagined.”
“Good. I see you have the recipe book back.”
“I did. I’m thinking about letting my mom hold onto it for now.”
“That’s a good idea, love. It might bring back a fond memory—even for a second.”
“Will you go with me?” I asked, hoping he’d say yes.
“I go where you go, Tori Montana. Lead the way.”