Chapter 87
LUCY
“You know every other lawyer in the country would advise against this, Lucy,” my father said.
It was Sunday, around ten a.m. Barely twenty-four hours had passed since I met April Devers. It had felt like a lifetime. Every day/week felt that way lately. It’s like everything had slowed down. And during the precise time you’d rather have life flying by.
“I just want to tell them about April Devers and all I’ve found. I won’t even talk about Eddie’s murder.”
“They are all interconnected, honey,” my mother said.
She was right, of course.
“Okay, if you guys want, I’ll call my firm and have someone join me.”
“I think that would be for the best.”
“I’m going to make that call now. Sunday isn’t ideal, but I’m sure they could muster someone up.”
“What’s going on with the case you were a part of? I haven’t heard you mention it lately.”
“The judge has halted proceedings for the moment. An important witness for the prosecution has gone missing.”
“So maybe you’ll be able to rejoin when they reconvene?”
“Maybe, Mom. And I really would have been excited about that possibility two or three days ago, but since I met April Devers, all of my attention is now on her.”
“I understand. Just trying to think positively, sweetie.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
I excused myself and went outside to make the call.
“Of course, we can get you a lawyer, Lucy,” Tarah Jewell said. “We wish you had come to us to begin with.”
“It was my father’s choice to hire Remington Patton.”
“I can’t really blame him. She is a great lawyer.”
“We didn’t see eye to eye.”
I heard Tarah laugh.
“You aren’t the first one to butt heads with her.
So, what time are you planning on going to the LAPD?
Mia Gunn should be available. She’s an excellent attorney.
I’ll have her call you, and she’ll want to go over some protocol before you head to meet them.
And I’ll reiterate one last time that we never recommend talking to the police. ”
“I respect you a great deal, Tarah, but this is different. I’m giving them an alternative suspect.”
“I understand. It sounds like your mind is made up anyway.”
“It is.”
“Okay, just promise to listen to Mia.”
“I will.”
“I’ll have her reach out within the hour.”
“Thanks.”
Mia Gunn actually reached out within five minutes.
I gave her a rundown of everything I’d discovered over the last few days and what I wanted to tell the LAPD. She made me promise not to answer any specific questions about Eddie’s murder if the detectives went in that direction. I conceded to that.
We agreed to meet at the LAPD precinct on Olympic Boulevard at three p.m.
I arrived at 2:50, and Mia was waiting for me outside.
We exchanged pleasantries. I didn’t know her well, but we’d always been cordial at work when we saw each other. There were only twelve employees total at Jewell, Rock, and Barrientos, and I knew Mia least of all.
She was only a few years older than me, and one of the younger attorneys with the firm, but she gave off a very serious vibe. She was dressed conservatively in a dark pantsuit and a white blouse.
When we entered the precinct, a heavy-set man was there to greet us, although I’m not sure greet is the right word for it.
“How can I help you?” he grunted.
“Is Detective Abbott in?”
Mia and I had decided it would be better to show up unannounced. If we called ahead, there was always the chance the media would be alerted, and that’s the last thing I wanted. If Abbott wasn’t in on a Saturday, I’d gladly talk to any other detective who was present.
“He’s actually walking this way right now,” the man said. I turned around and saw Abbott fast approaching.
“Hello, Detective Abbott.”
“Hello, Lucy. You’re not avoiding us anymore?”
“I’ve decided I’m ready to talk.”
“Great, we were just about to come and see you.”
“Oh, yeah. Why?”
“Please put your hands behind your back.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re under arrest for the murder of Eddie Sykes.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Surely he must have said something different. I looked over at Mia Gunn. Her face had dropped.
“I didn’t murder my husband. But I know someone who was probably involved. I just came here to talk.”
“Put your hands behind your back.”
“I just want to talk.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to talk, but not until we process you for the murder of your husband. Now put your hands behind your back.”
This couldn’t be happening, but I didn’t want to be charged with resisting arrest. I put my hands behind my back, and Detective Abbott fastened the handcuffs behind me.
“Mia, please call my parents.”
“Do you want them to bail you?”
“My father is going to, regardless.”
“Do you still want to talk to the LAPD after you process?” she asked, nodding toward Detective Abbott.
I looked back at him. “No, fuck the LAPD. They’ve screwed this up from the beginning.”
It was the second time I’d used the F-word in two days.
It’s not like you could blame me.
I’d just been arrested for murder.