Warrant
ESTELLE
The coffee pot is cold for the second morning in a row. Carlos hasn’t been home in two days. I try not to panic and think the worst, but my mind has already taken off running before I can stop it.
I pull out the encrypted phone from my pants pocket for the hundredth time, my thumb hovering over the call button. With a sigh, I chicken out again and stuff it back in my pocket.
Right now, he’s waging a war as the grim reaper, and it feels almost forbidden for me to reach out to check on that version of him.
It doesn’t make sense.
But it does.
Ross watches me from the corner of his eye while flipping through the channels. I know I can’t ask him, either.
So what can I do with all this pent-up nervous energy?
Bake.
The third batch of cookies is out of the oven when Ross walks over to the counter to grab a cooled one from the plate. He eyes the three dozen cupcakes and just as many cookies while chewing.
“Carlos is fine,” he says finally. “This nervous baking situation you’ve got going on has to stop. You’re driving me crazy.”
“I’m not nervous,” I lie.
He scoffs, and crumbs fall onto the counter. “Right.”
I stare at the baked goods for a long moment, seeing myself through his eyes. What am I going to do with all this food?
“This is insane behavior,” I whisper, finally admitting that Ross is right. He nods while reaching for another cookie. “You should have stopped me after the first batch.”
“You should have asked about him before you started.”
The tension suddenly melts from my body, and I grip the edge of the counter to keep from collapsing in relief.
“It’s none of my business,” I say, unsure of whether I’m speaking to Ross or myself.
He’s silent for a long moment, not even chewing, and I look up to find his intense gaze on me.
“Everyone knows you two are screwing.”
The blood drains from my face, and my body goes numb. I try to say something, but I can only manage to huff out a shaky breath.
He chuckles while reaching for another cookie. “Calm down, woman. You look like you committed a crime. It’s your business.”
My cheeks are hot. When I finally speak, it comes out as a croak. “How—”
“How do we know?” he asks.
I nod, and he looks at me incredulously. “You’re loud. Security’s had to investigate twice. Plus, there are cameras outside the property.”
Oh. My. God.
They see Carlos sneaking into the pool house late at night and leaving in the morning.
Fuck my life.
I grab the batch of cupcakes and go place them in one of the warming trays to hide my mortification. Everybody knows.
Here I thought we were being discreet.
You’re loud. Security’s had to investigate twice.
Fuck. My. Life.
Ross chuckles low at my obvious embarrassment but abruptly stops. I don’t turn around until I hear the volume of the TV rise.
“...witnesses say a number of vehicles rammed the gate of the property, then a significant number of armed men exited the vehicles and began shooting down the security detail at the compound as they attempted to return fire.
Channel Nine can confirm from credible sources that this was one of the residences of the alleged leader of the Fuente de la Muerte Cartel, Santiago Ferreira.
Police are just now confirming that Mr. Ferreira was pronounced dead at the scene, and an investigation is now underway to find the perpetrators of the home invasion.
The death toll from the bloody shoot out has now reached ten.
In other news, the governor of California has released a statement on the string of cartel-linked violence that has plagued Los Angeles these past two weeks. He is promising that the responsible parties will be apprehended...."
Ross lowers the volume and turns to grab another cookie, seemingly unbothered by what he just heard. I wipe down the counter. They didn’t mention Carlos, but it’s obvious this was his doing.
The tension is suddenly back with a vengeance, and the walls of the mansion feel like they’re closing in on me.
Ten dead.
The governor is promising to apprehend the guilty parties.
Carlos.
“I need to get a few things from my apartment,” I say, looking up at Ross as he devours another cookie. “Can we go?”
“Let me check with the boss first,” he says, pulling out his phone and leaving the kitchen.
I take advantage of this moment alone to inhale and exhale slowly, steadying myself.
This is life working for a mafia boss, Estelle. What did you expect?
Ross walks back in after a few minutes. “Good to go. When do you want to head out?”
“Now.”
***********************
“This is ridiculous,” I groan as we turn onto Highway 101.
We’re a spectacle.
How is this inconspicuous?
Four black Cadillac SUVs left Carlos’ mansion. One is currently in front of us, and two are following close behind. I counted four men getting into each vehicle, all carrying very big guns.
“Boss’s orders,” Ross says.
At least we’re alone in this one. So much for my plan to get out of the mansion and—what?
I have no idea what I had planned to do; all I know is I needed to get out for a while and clear my head. Leaning against the headrest, I focus on the soft hum of the engine.
Much too soon, Ross is pulling up next to the curb in front of my building. I look up at the five-story complex, feeling like a stranger.
“Can I go up alone?” I ask.
Ross opens his door and steps out without a word. I guess not. He comes around to open my side.
Why do I feel so out of place here?
I try to shake off the feeling as we head toward the entrance. A sudden loud screech of tires has me looking back over my shoulder.
A police car has pulled up on the sidewalk. The detectives—Sullivan and Harris—walk hastily toward us, their hands on their holstered guns on the side of their hips.
“Miss Signon, we are placing you under arrest,” Detective Sullivan says, pulling a pair of handcuffs from inside his jacket.
I’m still processing his words when Ross steps in front of me, blocking me from their view.
“What’s this about?” he asks firmly.
“Move to the side, sir,” Detective Sullivan orders.
Ross doesn’t move.
“We have a warrant for her arrest in connection with the murder of Karl Smith.”
My breath freezes in my lungs.
“What?” I choke out.
I didn’t kill Karl.
“Move, or we’ll arrest you, too.”
The sidewalk swarms with Carlos’ men. They don’t pull out their guns, but they don’t need it to be intimidating.
The show of strength is impressive, but what can they really do if there’s a warrant for my arrest?
This situation could quickly escalate.
I breathe in deeply, trying my best to remain level-headed. “I’ll go, Ross.”
His broad back tenses even more. “Estelle,” he says tightly without looking at me.
“I have to,” I say loud enough for only him to hear.
He steps aside, and I walk toward the detectives on numb legs. They re-holster their guns, their expressions tense, no doubt from being surrounded by so many burly men without backup.
Detective Harris pulls out the handcuffs.
“She’s coming in willingly. That’s not necessary,” Ross grits out.
She grabs my arms, bringing them to my back, and handcuffs me.
“Estelle Signon, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law...”
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