C.A.K.E -
Chapter 18
"Do you have any other piercings or tattoos, ma'am?" The female intake officer holds open an envelope for Arden to place her jewelry into it.
"No," she replies as she removes her earrings. The brilliant diamonds encircling her left ring finger are the last to go. She slips the rings off her hand, having to give the precious metal a little tug.
The officer waves a metal detector wand along Ardi's body. When the device reaches her waist, it goes crazy. The woman's expression sours.
"You sure you don't have any piercings or weapons hidden on you?" She eyeballs Ardi when she assures her that she's not concealing any weapons or belly piercings underneath her cotton skirt. "Lying to me is only going to make this harder on you."
Arden takes a breath before explaining why she'll set off every metal detector within a hundred-mile radius.
"I have metal implants in my hip and both knees, along with titanium rods in my left femur and tibia. There are also several pins in my right leg and ankle."
She pauses to let the woman take in what she said. Her expression still seems skeptical.
"If you check my wallet, there is a card in there that will verify everything." Arden shifts her weight to her other foot and glances up at the ceiling. "Or if you'd prefer, I can show you the scars."
The woman frowns at Arden before reaching for the handbag. She watches the officer locate the small piece of plastic that indicates Ardi is indeed a bionic woman. After a cursory scan of the card, the woman places it back into the wallet and continues the standard booking procedure.
The officer rifles through Arden's belongings, spreading the contents of her purse onto a worn counter. She documents and bags every item that might be considered contraband. When she pulls a bottle of painkillers from its depths, she glances up at Ardi.
"I have a script for those," Arden says in an almost whisper.
"Then you won't mind if we check with your doctor."
"Whatever you need to do, officer." She sighs. The beginning of a headache is scratching at her delicate composure.
A light frisking, a urine sample, and a few mugshots later, Arden is sitting with her right handcuffed to a bank of rickety plastic chairs. It's the middle of the day on a Wednesday. There are only three other people in the open area of the intake room.
If it were the weekend, an endless parade of the drunken and disorderly would be punctuating the relative silence. Good thing Melinda sprung her trap sooner rather than later.
Arden tries to keep her eyes trained on the floor, attempting to distract herself by counting the dents and scratches in the speckled white tile. But she can't shake the feeling that someone else's eyes are on her.
She angles her head to the side, examining her surroundings in her peripheral. A female desk clerk is staring at Ardi like she stole her man. The woman doesn't look familiar. But that has never stopped anyone in this town from developing an
uninformed opinion about who Arden is.
Lillian's death and Warren's campaign thrust Ardi into a blaring spotlight that was equipped with a high-powered microscope. Before she could get a handle on a solid opinion of herself, the whole city had written an identity for her.
Five minutes before the accident, Arden wouldn't have minded the attention. She was a great student, star athlete, and Olympic hopeful. Her talents deserved recognition.
But after that day, she was the girl who had survived the gruesome crash on the Southside. Then she was Senator Warren Mitchell's daughter. No one knew Arden-not in a real sense. Everyone knew what they read about her. But very few people bothered to go beyond that.
Arden doesn't know what this woman may have heard that's sticking in her craw. But whatever it might be, is her own damn problem. There isn't space in her mind at the moment for any more jealous women.
She looks up and catches the woman glaring at her. Her first instinct is to roll her eyes. Then she reconsiders. Conjuring up her sweetest smile, Ardi grins at the woman until she looks down at her desk.
Little Miss Attitude goes back to her work, allowing Arden to concentrate on calming her fried nerves. Her mind wanders to Elliott. Then guilt creeps up from her gut and settles into the seat beside her.
Just as the feeling of Casper's lips flashes into her conscious thoughts, her husband comes through the door. Guilt is replaced by a rage that threatens to consume her.
Elliott is escorted into the processing area by two officers. He begins struggling in their grip when he spots her.
"Arden, darling. I am so sorry." Eli shakes his guards and rushes over to her. He bends to kiss her, widening his stance to steady himself. Both of his hands are cuffed in front of him. But he ignores his bindings long enough to caress her cheek.
"This isn't your fault." Ardi grasps his hand with her free one and shakes her head. She grits her teeth as the words escape her mouth. "Do not apologize for her."
"Okay, that's enough." One of the officers admonishes Eli, attempting to separate the two. After some effort, their hands are pried apart. "Let's go."
"Elliott, we'll get out of this." She calls after him as he is all but dragged down the hallway. Biting her lip to fend off the tears building in her eyes, she waits until he's out of sight to release a low agitated grunt.
When she turns her head, she finds that once again the female desk clerk's gaze has fallen upon her. This time the woman doesn't look away, and neither does Arden exercise her infallible southern manners.
Glaring back at the woman, she fires off a rhetorical question. "The fuck are you looking at?"
The officer sucks her teeth and shuffles a stack of papers. Then she picks up the landline and relays something to the person on the other end in a hushed tone.
A few minutes later, a rather tall gentleman emerges from the back offices and makes his way over to Arden. The man spends what seems like an eternity towering over her before speaking.
"Mrs. Stone?" She glances up at him. He pulls a key from his pocket and undoes the end of the handcuffs that are attached to the seat. Taking hold of her elbow, he
helps her stand.
Choosing now to introduce himself, he fastens her hands behind her back again. "I'm Captain Lane. There are a few questions I need to ask you. Is that all right?"
She nods and Captain Lane escorts her to an interrogation room with nothing but a wooden table and two more hard plastic chairs. The instant she steps into the room claustrophobia hits her. Tight quarters have never bothered her, but being stuck in this one with a member of law enforcement has awakened her inner neurotic.
He seats her in the one farthest from the door and then removes the cuffs from her hands. Lane discards the handcuffs on the table along with the key.
Thankful to be free of her restraints for the moment, Arden begins rubbing her wrists. It no longer feels so much like the walls are closing in on her. As that feeling subsides, Arden takes the opportunity to study Captain Lane while he unbuttons his suit jacket and takes the seat across from her.
Met with a pair of deep brown eyes, she tries to discern whether or not he's an agent of the dark side.
His headful of salt and pepper hair and matching trimmed goatee might suggest he'd be more at home seated by a fireplace wearing a mohair sweater with a cigar perched between his lips. There are probably a couple of grandkids somewhere that he should be waiting for in a carpool line, not playing good cop/bad cop with her in
this sparse room.
Unable to determine the presence of any bias from his stoic expression, Arden waits for him to break the suffocating silence. She takes a deep breath. Though her insides are more muddled than the Alabama dirt after a heavy rain, she's determined to maintain a placid demeanor.
"Mrs. Stone, I'm going to be straight with you." He produces a manila envelope that's been tucked underneath his arm and lays it on the table between them. Then he pushes it aside. "We found drug paraphernalia in your home. But your drug test
is clean."
He leans back in his chair and scratches at the neat hairs on his chin, keeping his focus on her the entire time. Arden does her best not to squirm. But his eyes seem to be boring into her. Her innermost thoughts aren't expecting company, so he needs to take that penetrating stare elsewhere.
"You look like a woman who's never so much as ingested a poppy seed ..." he
muses. "Something doesn't quite equate."
Ya damn skippy something doesn't equate.
He may have some sense after all, though nothing in his static demeanor has given
her a concrete reason to believe so. Lane regards her with the same disinterested
look on his face.
Ardi decides that it's best for him to pose a direct question to her before she volunteers anything. At this point, words are precious ammunition that should be used with careful measure.
Plenty of people have gone down for stupid shit because they couldn't keep their
mouths shut. Her effortless poise has given her a safeguard against any mindless
rambling.
"Arden." Lane rests his elbows on the table and sighs. "I don't know who you've
pissed off, but someone has it out for you." He grabs the envelope and pulls out a few sheets of paper along with a couple of photos. "And unfortunately some of the officers at this precinct have fed into the farce."
Thank God at least one person hasn't been snowed by Melinda's storm of lies. The tense tide of emotions crashing up against the shores of her weathered mental state begins to recede, taking with it the bear of a migraine that's been rampaging through
her head.
He slides a piece of paper to her across the table. At first, Arden just glances down at the document, reluctant to surrender the piercing gaze she has on him. Then she notices the letterhead on the paper.
It's a transcript of the call that was made to Child Protective Services. She reads
over the page, her eyes burning with every falsified word about her and Eli's life with
the twins.
According to this, she and Elliott are both addicts who aren't even particular about their drug of choice. Everything from homegrown meth to high-end cocaine and prescription pills is mentioned in the laundry list of illegal substances the Stones are
alleged to abuse.
There's also an allusion to a bustling drug trade that uses Arden's place of business as its hub. The form reads like the front page of a gossip rag. The accusations that are aimed solely at Arden are more outrageous. Melinda claims that Ardi starves Rowan and Teagan, forcing them to work all hours at her
bakery for leftover food. The loathsome bitch even went so far as to allege that Arden has beaten the children on several occasions.
"None of that is true." Her hand trembles as she slides the paper to the officer. "This entire thing has been instigated by my husband's ex-wife."
"Well, that explains a lot." Detective Lane mutters something to himself and spreads
the pictures before her. "This anonymous caller knew exactly where to find your supposed stash."
"She planted this." Shaking her head, she examines photos of the needles found in the downstairs bath and a plastic baggie of a white substance that was wedged between the sofa cushions. "Her boyfriend must have hidden that there." "There's really no explanation needed." He raises his hands to halt her speech. "For someone who is supposed to be running a large-scale drug smuggling operation, there was very little evidence of anything of that nature found in your home or
business."
Placing the photos back into the envelope, he interlocks his fingers and begins twiddling his thumbs.
"What I would like to know is why this woman has targeted you and your husband."
"Captain..." She pauses to release an exhausted breath. "I'm sure there's someone from your past who would love to see you suffer."
"There have been one or two." He nods. "But the most a woman has done to me is
key my car, or lace my shampoo with a depilatory. None of them has gone to the trouble of falsifying evidence to have me arrested."
"If I could understand Melinda's warped mind, I'm sure I'd be the next Nobel Prize
winner." Arden wraps her arms tight around herself. "Not even Freud could crack that nut."
That gets a quick laugh from him along with a shake of his head. But the smirk is short-lived. He recovers his all-business expression within seconds.
"Is there any possibility that even a shred of these allegations could be true?" he
asks, staring Arden dead in her eyes.
"No." Her tone even and definite, she doesn't shrink from his scrutiny. "Elliott and I
would never jeopardize the safety of our kids."
Captain Lane spends another minute or two in contemplative silence, seeming to be wrestling with some dilemma. Then he sighs and rises from his seat. Asking Arden to stand and place her hands in front of her, he handcuffs her wrists
again. The action is gentle, done with more care than the two overzealous rookies who arrested her.
"It looks like my officers might have jumped the gun on this one. If this has indeed been a misunderstanding, you have my apologies, Mrs. Stone." Before he reaches for the door handle, he makes Arden a promise. "I will see to it that everything is
straightened out as soon as possible."
Not yet willing to abandon her reticent attitude, she offers him another nod in return. He takes her elbow, guiding her out of the room and down the narrow hallway. Instead of being seated in the main holding area again, Arden is placed in a solitary
cell.
Once Lane has cut her off from the less-than-favorable atmosphere of the rest of the precinct, her senses take in the stark surroundings. It's no Four Seasons. But at
least she doesn't have to worry about any other offenders or fighting for her jailhouse virginity.
She expresses her gratitude for the relative privacy with a silent prayer. With her
sanctified moment out of the way, she asks God to turn a blind eye to her next thoughts.
Sitting on a bench that's been bolted into the brick wall, she works out the logistics of her murder plot. Her current environment serves to further fuel the bloodthirsty images running through her mind.
First, I need to start seeing that hack therapist again. If I talk crazy enough, maybe I
can swing a diagnosis of bipolar or dissociative identity disorder. Whichever one will make that temporary insanity defense most plausible.
Yeah, yeah. Then one of my 'alternates buys a plane ticket to New York, round trip. Elliott can't know. If I make up something about a wedding convention, that might work. I'll need a boning knife, couple pairs of leather gloves, a few plastic tarps,
garbage bags, zip ties, Lorazepam ...
The heavy steel door unlocks with a mechanical click, interrupting her homicidal calculations. A plainclothes officer enters the small cell with her. "Arden Elizabeth Mitchell." She keeps her head lowered. Almost twenty years have
passed, and she still recognizes his voice. Its slow drawl rakes across her skin like hot coals. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen."
She can feel his eyes roaming over her body. Wishing she could shed her skin or scrub it clean off her bones, she meets the smug expression of the officer. Light- skinned, hazel-eyed, and a headful of soft curly black hair, he's still the same.
Gavin Taylor.
Her high school boyfriend stands before her as good-looking as ever. But Arden remembers what lies underneath that handsome exterior. And it's far from glamorous.
"The name is Stone now, as I'm sure you are well aware." She takes notice of the
shining badge at his waist. "Didn't realize they were allowing mitches to join the police force. Times certainly have changed."
He smirks and takes a seat next to her. The smell of his cologne repulses her. The cloying scent stings at her nose, inducing a feeling of nausea. Ardi positions her
body as far away from him as possible, nearly slipping off the edge of the hard metal
bench.
"But I see that smart mouth of yours hasn't missed a beat." Gavin skims his finger
along her cheek, making her flinch. "Told you it would get you in trouble one of these days." She rolls her eyes at him and turns her head. Giving him the privilege of a response would be opening the door for him to dig deeper into her business. There's enough on her plate without the addition of another crazy ex.
"So I hear you're doing heroin now. Elliott get you started on that shit?" He leans
forward, resting his elbows on his knees. She continues to ignore him. "Figures. Give a white boy an African queen and he just runs her into the ground." Last she checked Gavin's father was still a white man. It takes everything in her to keep that retort to herself. Her silence just seems to fuel him. Gavin never did operate like normal people. Anyone else would shut up. Not him
though. He's a dog looking for a bone. And Arden looks like his next chew toy. "I must say though, for an addict you look... exceptional." Gavin traces his hand along her leg until he reaches the hem of her skirt. "Where you hiding the track marks, huh?"
"Don't touch me." His fingers begin to lift the material draped over her skin. Arden jerks her leg away from him.
"The only reason you're not sitting in a cell with the other junkies and prostitutes is
because of me." He snickers and gives her a sidelong glare. "A thank you would be
nice."
"Is that right?" She narrows her eyes at him.
"It is." He licks his lips and puts his hand back on her knee. "So you might want to
skip your usual self-righteous good girl act."
She doesn't attempt to move away from his offending touch. Instead, she just
glances down at his hand, before looking up into his light eyes. "In that case, Gavin ..." With a nod of her head, she urges him to come closer.
Dropping her voice down to its darker boudoir tone, she leans in to whisper in his ear. "Put your hands on me again ... I'll break every bone in your pathetic body, and
then grind them into dust. Are we clear?"
Arden pulls away from him with a devious smile on her lips. The way she's feeling at the moment, she would have no problem going through with her threat. "That just sounds like foreplay to me, baby." Gavin lets his hands get familiar with
her skin for another second or two, then smiles at her. "Besides, we both know you
like it a little rough."
"There's a big difference between rough and violent, Gavin." Arden cuts her eyes at him. If looks could kill, he'd be six feet under a pile of dirt and heavy cement. He scoffs, eyeballing her. "According to you, there is." "According to the law, Gavin," she growls, hoping the totality of the disdain she has
for him is conveyed in her voice.
A silence as sharp as a samurai's blade builds between them. Every muscle in
Arden's body tenses in anticipation. That demented gleam still shimmers in his cat eyes. A cold shiver inches down her spine.
Being around him is like playing Russian roulette with a faulty machine gun. It could
go either of two ways, you squeeze the trigger and nothing happens, or you're obliterated. A middle ground doesn't exist with him. There's something unnerving about a man who's even more charming than he is pretty.
Several years have passed since the last night she set eyes on Gavin. And it's still a
day too soon that he's sitting beside her again.
He was her first real boyfriend. The two met through mutual friends when they were
both
seventeen.
Before the accident her life revolved around academics and her athletic career, then
life became about physical therapy and learning to cope with her mother's death.
The constant doctor visits and never-ending schoolwork left little time for a social
life.
And Ardi was just fine with that. Her misery didn't need any company other than a
good book.
But the basketball player with glowing eyes and a nice smile seemed harmless enough. And her sitting at home was getting old. So she agreed to go out with him.
He turned on the charm, and his spell began to work its magic on Arden. On days when he wasn't working or attending basketball practice, they would have picnics in the park or go to the movies. Hazel-eyes even wrote her poetry. It wasn't
Shakespeare. But no other boy had put out that kind of effort.
Then again, the only romantic interest she'd had before him was an unrequited crush her freshman year. Being Warren Mitchell's daughter didn't have many suitors
lining up at her door even before his official foray into politics.
The Mitchell family has been a powerful presence in the business and political landscapes of the state for several generations. Arden's paternal great-grandfather found
enormous success in Birmingham's once-booming iron industry for which the city earned the moniker of "The Magic City." From there the Mitchells invested in telecommunications.
Warren Mitchell is still chairman of a major communications company. It boasts
some of the world's major providers of wireless and landline phone services as
subsidiaries. In short, Arden's family has been making money in their sleep for
years.
That kind of earning power can intimidate most, but Gavin didn't seem to be the least bit bothered that Arden had a father who was well-connected and very protective of his daughter. That lack of fear might have been more indicative of his true personality than anything he ever said.
She and Gavin only dated a few months. During that time, he succeeded in breaking down the wall Ardi had built between herself and the rest of the world. Not even the
psychiatrist Warren had suggested she start seeing could do that. Everyone else got a superficial answer, but Gavin knew that Arden was far from
okay.
When nightmares kept her from sleeping, he spent hours on the phone with her. They would talk until dark bloomed into dawn. He was the one person who knew the
reason Arden began refusing to take her pain medication, or why she couldn't look
in a mirror for months after the accident.
At a time when she couldn't trust herself, she trusted him. Gavin could have very well shaped up to be the perfect husband. She might have
even loved him had he given her the time to figure out what she was feeling. The loss of her mother was still fresh, made even more difficult by the subsequent trial of the drunk driver who turned her world upside down. All he had to do was be patient. One night he must have gotten tired of the occasional kiss goodnight because he didn't take her straight home after their date. Instead, he stopped in a secluded area
not far from the Mitchell estate.
After a few minutes of trying to coax Arden into giving him what he wanted, he
decided that he was going to take it. He forced her into the backseat of his '84
Corolla and tried to tear off her plaid mini-dress.
The attack took her by complete surprise, which is what he wanted. He expected to move with enough haste that she wouldn't have time to realize what was happening
until it was too late. But what Gavin didn't count on was that even though she'd just re-mastered walking without the aid of arm crutches, Ardi wasn't weak. She broke his nose and left him bleeding in the middle of the darkened field as she
drove herself home in his car.
Warren took one look at his daughter's ripped clothing and bruised skin before he was tearing out of the driveway and hunting down Gavin's sorry ass. Arden's father leveled assault charges against him. But in the end, he got off scot- free. The judge took pity on the young man and gave him a year of probation. His
record was expunged on his eighteenth birthday, hence his presence in front of her
right now.
"Twelve years and the white boy still hasn't managed to break you." He puts his lips
to her neck, inhaling her soft scent. "Guess it's still up to me." Gavin slips his hand up her skirt and tries to urge her backward on the bench. Arden
twists away from him to gather her momentum and rams her elbow into his face. The motion puts a strain on her wrists, making the unyielding metal of the handcuffs cut into her skin. But the blood beginning to trickle from his nose makes the pain
bearable. She gets to her feet, staying on her toes as she watches for his next
move.
"You fucking bitch." He touches his face and grimaces. Then he does something
that makes her blood run cold. The bastard smiles at her, showing every single one
of his teeth. "I still owe you for the last time you broke my nose." "So you do remember me kicking your ass." She smirks at him. "But I'll still give you
a refresher course. This one's on the house."
"You got lucky." Gavin approaches her. She takes a step back for each one he
makes toward her. "I'm the one running the show now. And there ain't shit you can
do about it, sweetheart."
Now standing in front of him, she takes a quick scan of his form. It looks like Gavin
has spent most of their time apart in the gym. The police academy must train its
cadets well. Either that or crazy just tends to get better with age. She tries to fit in the occasional swim or bike ride on the weekends. But it's nothing
like her old training regime, or even the rigorous physical therapy routine she
endured for almost three years of her life. The combination of the two of them in this six-by-eight cage could end any number
of ways. Either way, she's going to make sure he doesn't walk out of here
unscathed. If she can help it, he won't be walking out of this cell at all. Arden takes a ragged breath and gathers what strength she has left. The two spend another few seconds glaring at each other, neither saying a word. Then Gavin rushes toward her, wrapping his fingers around her neck. He presses her against
the brick wall, tightening his grip.
Ardi gasps for air as her feet begin to lift off the ground. One of the studded flats
slips off her feet and claps against the tile floor. Her head begins to pound as pressure accumulates in her brain, its connection with the rest of her body being
impeded by a psycho's hand. "Let's see one of your little tricks now, Ardi." He gets closer to her face, seeming to relish her inability to breathe. "Come on. Show me what the daddy's girl can do."
His words seem muffled to her. Sight and sound are beginning to abandon their posts as her body screams for its air supply. Starting to feel lightheaded, she forces
herself to stay cognizant enough to figure some way out of his grasp. Before she slips out of consciousness, he offers her some leeway. He presses his
lips to hers, attempting to shove his tongue down her throat. She bites down as hard
as she can on his flesh.
The tactic does the trick. Gavin releases her, once again clutching at his face. Doubled over and taking greedy gulps of air, she keeps an eye on him through her blurred vision. He groans and stomps his feet, trying to ride out the sharp pain. While he's nursing his newest wound, Arden calculates her next move. Ardi glances down at her cuffed hands. There's a slight gap between her wrists and
the cold metal. She takes another look at the wounded man crumpled on the floor a
few feet away from her.
With her left hand acting as leverage, she begins to maneuver her right hand out of
the metal bracelet with feverish urgency. Tears form on the rims of her eyes as the
unforgiving material scrapes against her skin.
The progress is slow. And right now that's a four-letter word that she can't tolerate.
When she reaches the ridge at the base of her thumb, the cuff's movement all but
halts.
Arden checks on the status of her attacker. Quicker than she hoped, he's on his feet
and pulling off his jacket. The glint off the handle of the gun holstered at his side catches her eye. Still holding one hand over his mouth, he shakes his head at her. "You are not behaving like the daughter of a politician, Arden." Gavin removes the cufflinks from his shirt and lays them on top of his jacket. Rolling up his sleeves, he flashes the same sick grin at her. "Daddy Mitchell would not be pleased to hear how
rude you've been."
He continues to make vulgar references to her and the brief part of their lives that
intersects. She allows him to rant without interruption. Her energy is needed
elsewhere at the moment.
Tucking her thumb underneath her other fingers, she's able to move the cuff a bit
further down her hand. Gavin is inching toward her, closing the gap between them
with eerie patience. His measured movements taunt her while she scrambles to rid
her hands of their restraints.
Whatever he's going to do next, she has a better chance of defending herself with
her hands' full range of motion. If she's going to get these things off, it has to
happen now.
She takes a deep breath and shoves the metal ring the rest of the way over her
hand, taking some of her skin with it. Ignoring the sting of the fresh abrasion, she readies herself for his attack.
Gavin flies from the opposite side of the cell, lifting Arden off her feet and slamming
her onto the floor. Her back makes contact with the hard concrete, making her gasp.
A new fear takes over her as the air vacates her lungs. She gathers her strength and meets his assault with a quick blow of her own. Her
fist connects with his jaw, sending a shock up the length of her arm when it collides
with the solid bone. She grits her teeth as the pain blazes through her nerves. He's stunned for a few seconds, but recovers. Her swing isn't what it used to be. The hit does more to anger him than it does to inflict any real damage. He strikes
her face with the back of his hand, causing a small laceration to open up on her left
cheek.
Using the empty end of the handcuffs as a makeshift pair of brass knuckles, she takes another swing at him. This time the dense metal hits him square between the eyes. Having endured more than one blow in approximately the same spot, this one
weakens him enough for her to gain the upper hand.
She snatches the service revolver from his hip, while he puts his hands to his face.
He rolls off her, bloodied and cursing. Just as she trains the gun on him, a horde of
officers appears at the door.
They rush to open the cell and swarm inside to relieve Arden of her pilfered firearm.
Two officers subdue her while the others tend to Gavin.
Then two more authoritative figures darken the entryway. A sense of relief comes
over her when she recognizes one of the men.
Warren steps into the now even more cramped space with a man who owns the
same powerful presence as he does. The other gentleman she recognizes as the Chief of Police.
He and Warren part the crowd of girls and boys in blue and make their way to
Arden. Without having to be instructed to do so, the officers holding either of her
arms relinquish their grip on her.
Looking her over, Warren's mood rockets from worried to irate in a matter of seconds. His hand wavers over the blood seeping from the cut on Ardi's cheek. "Which one of you sons of bitches did this to her?" Warren's voice booms off the walls, bombarding the eardrums of everyone who's piled into the close quarters. "Detective, what the hell happened here?" Chief Todd turns back to Gavin who has been settled onto the bench by a couple of his colleagues.
Stepping around the imposing build of the chief, Warren gets a good look at the detective. Fire takes over his face, warping his features. "He attacked her." Warren takes a step forward so that he can glare down at the
pathetic excuse for a man. "Just like he did when she was seventeen."
"I never touched her. Not then and not now." Gavin removes the cloth he's been
holding up to his nose. "When I entered the cell, she became belligerent. I had to
use force to subdue her."
"Bullshit," Warren says through clenched teeth. Sensing her father is about to decimate the police department and the entire city,
Ardi touches his arm. He takes her hand. But doesn't ease off Gavin.
"You got away with assaulting my daughter once. I'll be damned if it happens again."
"Mr. Mitchell, with all due respect..." Grinning like the Cheshire cat after he's
smoked a mountain of weed, Gavin leaves his seat and steps toward Warren. "Your daughter is a lying slut who..."
Gavin doesn't get the opportunity to finish his sentence. Warren delivers a quick and brutal hit to Gavin's jaw. Chief Todd and another of the officers position themselves
between the two and press Warren back from his target.
"That's assaulting an officer, Senator. I want this man arrested." Gavin's words come
out slurred and thick. When no one makes a move to comply with his request, he
looks puzzled. "What are you waiting for? Cuff him." "Neither Mr. Mitchell nor his daughter is under arrest." Todd's chest heaves as he speaks. "However, detective, you will be placed in a solitary cell to await arraignment on charges of excessive force and assault, plus whatever other disciplinary action that I deem to be appropriate. That is if I decide not to terminate
you."
"So I guess you're in his pocket just like the rest of this goddamn town," Gavin
smirks and sucks his teeth. "Hope the payday is worth it."
beat the piss out of you, and
"I'm not in anyone's pocket, son. You want to stand in front of a judge admit that a woman in handcuffs
and
.net
managed to take your gun, be
guest." He runs his hands over the
gold embroidered bands that line the
cuffs of his jacket. "It will be one hell
of a story to tell the boys at the bar
tonight." Content belongs to
readernovel.net
Gavin gives no further argument. Instead, he just stares daggers at Ardi and Warren
while he's placed in cuffs and escorted from the room. The others also file out of the
cell.
Before they all leave the cramped space, Chief Todd asks one of the officers to
remove the handcuffs from Arden's other hand and send in the nurse to take a look
at her.
Warren puts his arm around Ardi and helps her sit down. The nurse enters the cell
and begins dressing the scrapes on Arden's hands and the cut on her face. Her
father doesn't let go of her the entire time she's being tended to. Nothing else is
going to harm his little girl as long as he's by her side.
"Mrs. Stone, we've tracked down
your husband's ex-wife at her hotel."
Todd pauses to remove the hat from his head. "She and her boyfriend were in possession of about a kilo of heroin, which matches the sample found in your home. He was also
higher than a kite at the time of the arrest. So there's no disputing the
origin of the drugs or who used
them." Content belongs to
readernovel.net
Chief Todd goes on to say that charges will be brought against Melinda for filing a
false police report and felony possession. She will also be required to pay a
substantial fine to the city of Homewood as reimbursement for the time and
resources that were wasted searching the Stones' residence.
He also assures Arden and Warren that Melinda and Armando will at least spend
tonight in jail. They won't be able to bond out until tomorrow morning. That
knowledge brings some satisfaction to her. Mel deserves a life sentence in hell. But
one night spent in
a jail cell will suffice for now.
Now there are only three other people on Arden's mind.
"Where are my kids?" she asks her father.
"They're at the house with John and Diane."
Arden
breathes a little easier. Elliott's parents have their children. Now she just
needs to know where the hell her husband is.
"May I see my husband, please?"
"Of course, follow me." The chief leads them down the hall and back up towards the
front of
the building.
Elliott sits near the entrance with his head in his hands. He's talking to himself. And
by the tension in his body, whatever is on his mind isn't nice.
He happens to glance up just as the three come into view. Jumping up with so much
haste that he almost leaves behind his skin, Eli runs to Arden. Warren lets go of his
moving
toward
them.
daughter's hand when he spots Elliott Sweeping Arden into an embrace that pulls her close enough for their bodies to
become one, Eli buries his face in her neck. He whispers a prayer of thanks that
she's okay. It's not until he leans away from her a little that he notices the marks on
her face and hands.
"What happened to you?"
"Gavin Taylor," Warren states with a healthy dose of contempt. "Your ex-boyfriend? He did this to you?" Eli bends to look into her eyes. "What the
hell is he even doing here?"
Warren pipes up again. "The little piece of shit is a detective. He attacked her in one
of the cells."
"Jesus Christ. Are you all right?" Elliott surveys his wife with fresh panic.
"I'm fine, really. You should see him." She laughs, trying to ease his distress.
A commotion near the side entrance of the building interrupts Arden's consoling of
Eli. Over his shoulder, she catches a glimpse of Melinda and Armando being led
inside in handcuffs. The pair is ushered past Arden and Eli toward booking.
The women lock eyes, burning holes into each other. Arden smirks at Mel. But she
keeps her mouth shut. The winner of this round is obvious, and she's about to walk out of here a free woman.
With Warren and the Chief of Police
walking ahead, they manage to avoid the few
network news cameras perched outside the
municipal complex.
A black SUV is waiting for them with its engine running and the family driver,
Othello, at the wheel. Once the three are inside the vehicle's cooled interior and
Warren has offered a quick thanks to Todd, they speed past the unsuspecting
reporters and set off for the Mitchell
estate.☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐
Reading History
CAKE C.A.K.E
Chapter 17: Bad Karma's a Bitch
The
Alpha's
The Alpha's Daughter
Daughter
Chapter 22: Epilogue
Crestfallen Crestfallen
Chapter 8: 8: Dying Goats
"This translation was made by our team, to read more translated novels please visite www.readernovel.net"