Free FOR THE BABY'S SAKE by Beverly Long Page A

help. I’m at 1882 Deyston.” She disconnected that call and had just started to dial 911 when the door to the stall was kicked open.
    “Everybody out,” a female cop yelled at her. “Put your hands in the air and walk to the door.”
    Liz wanted to put her arms around the woman and hug her. But the gun pointed at her told her that wouldn’t be appreciated.
    Liz walked out into the club area. Some of the grayness from the daytime had eased back in. The lights had been turned on, and the music had been turned off. There were at least ten cops, with more pouring through the open door. Within minutes, the cops paired off, breaking the group into smaller groups. Everybody had to empty their pockets, their purses. A female officer patted Liz down, looking for weapons. She didn’t care.
    Liz didn’t even care when she had to sit on the dirty floor, her hands on top of her head. Anything was better than dancing with that man, his erection pressed up against her, his hands grabbing at her butt. Thank God he hadn’t tried to kiss her. Even now, the thought of it made her gag.
    She sat quietly. The girl next to her cried; the boy on the other side screamed obscenities at the cops who stood around the perimeter of the room. Liz scanned the area for the pregnant girl who’d given her the info, but she was nowhere to be seen. Somehow, she’d managed to slip out.
    Liz tried to remember every cop show she’d ever watched. When did people get fingerprinted? When was the mug shot taken? Would she get to make a phone call before or after all that?
    Who the heck would she call? Sawyer hadn’t been at his desk. She couldn’t ask Carmen to come down to the police station at eleven o’clock on a Tuesday night. The only person she could call was Jamison. He’d have a cow, but then he’d come.
    A minute later, when Sawyer, with his partner Robert on his heels, came through the doors, she realized that Jamison wasn’t the only one likely to have a cow.
    Sawyer literally skidded to a stop. He didn’t say a word. He couldn’t.
    “Damn,” Robert said.
    “Hi,” Liz said.
    “What the hell are you doing here?” Sawyer demanded. God, he’d been scared. When he’d gotten her messages, he’d driven like a crazy person to the bar, calling Robert on the way. They’d gotten there almost at the same time. When he’d seen more than a dozen squads outside, all kinds of crazy thoughts had entered his head.
    Now that he was sure she wasn’t hurt, he wanted to wring her little neck. “You came here, looking like that? ” he said.
    She put her chin in the air. “I had to fit in. I couldn’t wear my jeans.”
    “Did you have to dress like a damned hooker?”
    He regretted it the minute he said it. But he was scared. He hadn’t been there to protect her. What if she’d gotten hurt? Raped? Killed?
    “I didn’t think a three-piece suit would fit in,” she said.
    “You didn’t think. Period.”
    If anything, she put her nose a bit higher in the air. “I called you. I tried to reach you.”
    “You left a stupid message. Page me. That’s why I leave the number.”
    “I didn’t want to bother you,” she said.
    “Bother me?” This woman drove him crazy. “All you’ve been is a bother since the day I met you.”
    “Look, Sawyer,” Robert interjected. “There’s no harm done. She’s fine. We’re all fine. Don’t be an idiot about this.”
    Sawyer rubbed a hand across his face. He could see the pain in Liz’s pretty green eyes. It was hurt he’d caused.
    He took a deep breath. When he spoke, he raised his voice just enough that Liz could hear but that the rest of the people in the room would have to make up their own story. “I’m sorry, Liz. I’m more sorry than you can imagine. I was worried and...and I’m not handling this well.” His voice cracked at the end.
    “I want to go home,” Liz said. “Will you take me?”
    He felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders. “Yeah, I’d be glad to.” He