Free A Lil' Less Hopeless by Tara Oakes Page B

assaulting a police officer... who knows what else he could have managed to do while I’ve been stuck in here being interrogated?
    Chris slides his chair backward as he stands, extending his free hand out to greet Bernie Ruben, Esquire.
    “Special agent Gibson,” Chris introduces himself as the two men awkwardly grip hands. “And, no. I do not plan on arresting Lil’s. I know she’s not guilty of anything besides trying to pretend she was somewhere else on the night in question. But, my superiors don’t share my opinion. I need your client to cooperate, counselor.”
    Bernie shoots his gaze over to me, and spots the form on the table directly in front of where I’m siting. “Did you sign anything?”
    I shake my head. “No.”
    He looks relieved. “Good. Come with me, we’re leaving.”
    Cautiously, I move to follow him. Chris steps in front of me, blocking my path. Bernie takes notice and eyes him curiously.
    “Lil’s, I really am just trying to help you before this all blows up. Please think about this. Take my number and please... do not hesitate to call me.” Chris pleads.
    Instinctively, I turn to Bernie for silent instruction. He nods. I take Chris’s card and follow Bernie into the hall, leaving agent Pretty Boy to linger behind.
    “Wait!” I stop short and turn on my heel. “Where’s Jessica?”
    Chris rolls his eyes. “Your friend with the razor sharp tongue?” He smirks. “We released her right after she threatened to call the ACLU, Fox News, her father’s attorney, her uncle, the State Senator...” He was counting down on his fingers, going through Jess’s oral threats. “And... she told me just what she thought of me. But... I actually kind of enjoyed that part. Added a little excitement to my day.”
    Yep. That sounded like Jess. The girl could make you cry with her verbal assaults, if she really put half an effort in. I can only imagine the things she must have said to him. Good. He deserved it. Phony.
    Bernie reaches out and gently takes hold of my elbow, leading me away.
    I take a deep breath, exhaling my relief to be leaving this place. I know it could have gone differently. I know I could have easily been walking the opposite way, away from the exit instead and back toward the cells. What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
    ******
    Jess is seated in an industrial-style molded plastic chair, waiting for us as we come through the main doors. At the sight of me, she leaps up, rushing forward.
    “Thank God!”
    We hug, comforting each other from our shared experience. Despite my family ties and hot temper, I’ve never so much as seen an interrogation room except on TV. Given Jess’s upstanding breeding, I’m guessing she hasn’t either.
    “That jerk Gibson promised me he was going to let you go, but it’s been almost an hour! I was getting so worried!” She was patting and smoothing my hair. Attempting to make me look presentable. “It’s OK, though. I got his badge number.”
    I try not to laugh, but the thought of what Jess could do, is just too overwhelming. God help Pretty Boy... he has no idea what is coming his way.
    The room is full, with plenty of people waiting about. Most look nervous, anxious, tired. Understandably so. This place is horrible. I’ve managed to sort through the groups of people, but there’s no sign of Jay anywhere. Or anyone else that I know, for that matter. What?
    “Where is everybody?” I ask Bernie.
    He places one hand on each of our backs, and steers Jess and me through the sterile looking lobby of the Chisolm Police department, and out into the night air.
    “Jay had some pretty important things to put in place when he found out you were here. He’ll be busy a little while longer but will meet the two of you at home. This young lady’s car...” he nods to Jessica, “has already been delivered back to Jay’s house. I’ll give you two a lift home.”
    What could be so damn important that he wouldn’t even come to get me? Do you know