Shakespeare described one of his most famous characters, Ophelia, as “divided from herself and her fair judgment” and that’s how I felt. If I started singing “Hey non nonny” here in my jail cell, no one would think it strange. Just like Ophelia, my crazy was expected.
“The candy wasn’t tampered with,” Sam told me through the bars of my cell. Same cell. Different day. What kind of person was I becoming to be used to sitting in a holding cell? I sat on the uncomfortable cot, knees to chest, wondering how much worse this could get. “No one has reported any symptoms of poisoning, just common sugar rushes.” Sam tried to smile.
“I’m glad everyone’s okay, but I don’t get it,” I fumed.
“You were wrong, that’s all,” Sam replied. He looked tired and irritated. I couldn’t blame him.
“I’m sorry, Sam.”
“Don’t be. We’ll get out of this,” he assured me, though maybe he was just trying to convince himself. The tiny lines under his eyes told me that he was flustered and exhausted. I wished I could rewind my life. I should have never left the store or the apartment for that matter. Or I should have left the shoebox closed and called him instead. I wished I’d stopped to think. If only life could be operated like a VCR or DVD or DVR… whatever letters go with my meaning.
Sam breathed out heavily. “After reading your journal, I can see how you’d make the leap from the drugs in the shoes to the candy. Everything pointed to a grand act of hatred, something epic – just like he said.”
I shook my head. “He’s misusing that word. I’ve heard him use it twice, but he doesn’t get it. While it could refer to size, and I’m sure that’s what he’s thinking, it’s more than that. Epic comes from epos, which means word, speech or poem. It also means heroic. There’s nothing poetic or heroic about Ricky Wakefield. He may not have poisoned the candy, but he had some evil design for today.”
Sam smirked and leaned against the bars. “Seems an odd place to be worried about semantics.”
I shrugged. “That’s what jail gives you, right? Time to think?”
“You won’t have much time in there,” Sam noted. “Lucius Kayne is here arguing your charges with Kent as we speak.”
My eyes squinted together. “That was fast.”
“Helps to have friends in high places,” Sam decided. “Chris asked him to come and help you. And knowing how he works, you’ll be out shortly.”
I winced. “That’s good news, I guess. Not sure I want him fighting for me.”
Sam nodded. “Me, neither.”
I moved off the cot and over to Sam, where I laid my fingers on his, clasped between bars. “I really am sorry.”
He grinned. “Told you. I don’t care how many times you get arrested.”
“Bet you didn’t think I’d put that promise to the test, did you?” I kidded.
“Actually, I did,” he laughed. Then, on a more serious note, “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. The discovery of the shoes and what was hidden in them is going to be enough to earn back some credibility. The shoes tie all of the robberies together. Valerie Kent and Bobby Keller, the tourist from Cleveland, bought Nikes from Molly Tubbs. We’re bringing her in for questioning.”
“And, what you’re going to find out is that she no longer has any shoes,” I told him. “All of this started with Backwoods Buddy-”
The door scraped open and Lucius Kayne stepped into the holding cell area. He carried a briefcase and a sour expression. Chris followed behind him, along with Kent and a uniformed officer.
“Don’t say another word, Ms. Duffy,” Kayne told me. “The charges have been dropped. Let’s not give them any more ammunition.”
“Dropped?” I repeated dumbly. “You’re kidding.”
“I don’t kid,” Kayne said with a shake of his head. “Release her right away.” His backwoods British accent made everything sound friendly even if his words and expression weren’t.
The uniformed officer unlocked my cell, and I went to Sam’s side.
Kent angrily ordered, “Teague, my office. Now.”
“The charges were insulting anyway,” Lucius Kayne continued as Kent and Sam left the room. “Judges get angry when their time is wasted with piddle like disturbing the peace. The destruction of property charge was more serious, but Kent agreed to let that go. He was more lenient with you than I expected. Of course, you may be facing a civil suit-”
The uniformed officer held the door open for us, and we all exited the cell room. I followed Kayne to the main group of offices. “A civil suit?” I repeated.
“TIBA’s pissed,” Chris told me.
With an amused expression, Lucius continued, “Your outburst ended Octoberfest.”
My shoulders fell, and the heavy weight of Clara’s fury (rightful this time) settled on my conscience. “And it’s already made the news,” Chris added, a grin forming on his mouth as he pointed up to a mounted television set in the corner of the room. As if he’d planned it, the newscasters were running a story about the failed Tipee Island event.
“The tourists are gone. The vendors have packed up. Halloween was over before it even started,” Lucius went on in a business-like fashion. “Parents are afraid to send them out for candy and quite frankly, the children aren’t too keen on going anyway.”
Though all of this was horrible news, something worse rapt my attention. Through the windows of Kent’s office, I could see his red-faced anger coming down on Sam, who stood there, back to me. Sam was being browbeaten over his crazy girlfriend.
“Thanks for your help,” I said to the Kaynes. “I can take it from here.” I left them standing there and went to Kent’s office. I didn’t knock before entering, but I quickly closed the door behind me and stood next to Sam with my hands on my hips. I probably looked a lot like my mother.
“Get out of my office,” Kent ordered me.
“Why are you getting on his case?” I demanded. “If you should be mad at anyone, it should be me.”
“Delilah, I don’t need-” Sam started to say.
“I’m the one who ruined Octoberfest,” I butted in. “I raised a false alarm. I scared all the children in Tipee. I don’t care if you do charge me with something. I’ve caused all sorts of trouble here, but Sam didn’t do anything. So, if you want to yell, aim it at me.”
Kent sat down at his desk, and regained a semblance of his composure. “Ms. Duffy, you better leave or I will have you arrested again, no matter what Lucius Kayne has to say about it.”
“No, you won’t,” I insisted. “I know I made a promise to you, but I can break it just as easy, which is why you let me off the hook in the first place. Right?” Kent’s eyes flashed red, but he stopped himself from arguing. “You have no reason to yell at Sam. He’s not to blame for this.”
“Actually, Delilah, Kent’s right to yell at me,” Sam corrected. “I’ve broken a few laws today, no big deal.”
“What?” I bit back.
“Maybe before you go threatening someone, you should get your facts straight,” Kent advised.
I cleared my throat, and shrugged, realizing that I’d reacted before thinking, again. “That advice would have been useful to me earlier, too.” Turning to Sam, I asked, “What’d you do?”
“I’ll tell you what he did,” Kent sternly replied. “Illegal search, breaking and entering, assault, to name a few.”
“Oh, come on! He didn’t do those things,” I argued with a chuckle. “Sam Teague doesn’t break the law. He’s a Boy Scout. He doesn’t do stuff-”
“Um, actually Delilah,” Sam interrupted weakly, “I did do those things.” My eyes widened. Sam gave me a calm smile, and shrugged. “All in a day.”
Kent slammed his hand against his desk. “You’ve put this entire case in jeopardy.”
“There was no case,” Sam corrected, “so I did what I needed to do. And now thanks to Delilah, we’ll have evidence to back up what we already know. You’re welcome.”
“You’re suspended,” Kent shot back, “and I’m not sure I want you back here.”
“Just a job. I can always find another,” Sam urged him. “But, you know the truth. I’m a good cop, but I’m an even better man. I opted for the latter today. Let’s go home.”
He reached for my hand, and I took it. As we headed out the door, I glanced at Kent’s bulletin board. An overload of papers had been pinned to it. Wanted notices. Missing persons.
“Holy shit!” I called out. “That’s her!” I snatched a page off the board and ogled it. A forty-something woman stared back at me. She wore heavy make-up and crow’s feet circled her eyes. Her hair wasn’t red, but brown.
“This is the woman I saw at the Peacock!” I insisted excitedly. Sam took the page from my hands, and read the notice.
“Lorna Dobbs. Reported missing from Wilmington six weeks ago by friends. Priors for prostitution, possession,” Sam read.
“You said the woman had red hair,” Kent argued coming out from behind his desk.
“The red must have been a dye job, just like the hair you found, Sam,” I suggested. “This is definitely the woman I saw.”
Kent snatched the paper away from Sam, glanced at it shortly, and insisted, “I’ll look into it. You’re still suspended and Ms. Duffy, you better not be grasping at straws with this or I’ll remember to press those charges after all.”