fifteen, bored out of my mind and my poor right hand is
completely bare of any measure of fingernails. The slide of a heavy bolt
startles me and I let out a string of cuss words when Captain Reebals walks
through the door, closing and locking it after he enters. My instincts scream
at me that I’m not going to like anything he needs to tell me.
“How
are you, Sam?” He asks cordially, sitting in the empty chair beside me. There
isn’t a table in the room, only a counter that has a bullet proof glass
petition meant to separate me from Russ, and a small vent for us to speak
through, if we were to get a real visit.
“I’m
alright.” Stunned that my captain made a special trip down to the jail to see
me, I ask hesitantly, “Is something wrong Captain?”
Captain
Weston Reebals is a genuine old school cop. He earned his bars the right way,
working on every level in the department for twenty years and then last year he
finally landed his dream job. He’s a nice looking guy, with light brown hair
and a sprinkling of gray. He has the clearest green eyes, encased with thick
lashes and dark rimmed glasses that warm you and makes you want to confess all
your sins. He is a true gentleman, but that doesn’t stop him from keeping my
ass in line when I start going rogue on him. One thing to keep in mind about
Captain Reebals, he is never , ever overdramatic.
He
shifts in his seat and lets out a heavy breath before leaning back and crossing
his arms. “Sam, I got a call from the district attorney’s office this morning,”
he states guardedly like I might explode on impact to whatever news he has for
me.
“Okay…”
He stares at me for another moment and that’s when I see the concerned sunk
deep in his eyes. “Did something happen involving our case that I’m not aware
of?” I ask seriously, but then throw in a little sarcasm to mess with him. “Or
are you going to report back to me every time you speak with D.A. Cecena? You
know, I think she has a thing for older guys.” I wink and his jaw drops open.
“What? You’re a free man now, and even though she and I can’t be in a room for
more than one minute before we go for the other’s jugular, I think someone like
you could wrangle the barracuda. Besides, my beef with
her is professional. I’m sure she’s a great woman away from the courthouse.”
“Are
you finished?” he asks exasperatingly, leaning forward and resting his elbows
on his knees. He pierces me with a glare and threads his fingers together,
waiting for my answer and daring me to be insubordinate.
“Almost,”
I pause, tapping my finger on my chin, but before I can come up with something
cheeky he cuts me off.
“Sam,
Mark Hatfield was released.”
I
flinch away from him like his words literally just reached out and struck me
across the face. Irritation and repulsion rolls my stomach. I can’t remember a
time that I could’ve been more pissed off than I am at this very moment.
Drawing from all the years of forced compliance under my father’s thumb, I chew
on hundreds of vile comments. Finally, I can’t take sitting another second so I
bolt up to stand and pace as much as allowed inside this port-a-potty size room
for a good solid minute before I yell, “Are you fucking kidding me? How in the
hell…?” I stop right in front of him and with a tone too damn inappropriate for
my superior, I demand, “Don’t tell me that the fucking D.A.’s office agreed to
bail!”
Shaking
his head and holding his hands up to calm me, he says incredulously, “Sam, it
was three million dollars. He’s a fucking petty ante pusher. Not even the judge
expected someone to post his damn bond.”
“Who
did it?” I growl angrily, needing the name so I will be sure to seek out and
punish that fucker for all the hell Mad Hatter is sure to rain down now that he
is back on the streets.
“It
was anonymous,” he mumbles. I narrow my eyes, glaring at him and waiting for
him to clarify that answer. “Well, not
completely bare of any measure of fingernails. The slide of a heavy bolt
startles me and I let out a string of cuss words when Captain Reebals walks
through the door, closing and locking it after he enters. My instincts scream
at me that I’m not going to like anything he needs to tell me.
“How
are you, Sam?” He asks cordially, sitting in the empty chair beside me. There
isn’t a table in the room, only a counter that has a bullet proof glass
petition meant to separate me from Russ, and a small vent for us to speak
through, if we were to get a real visit.
“I’m
alright.” Stunned that my captain made a special trip down to the jail to see
me, I ask hesitantly, “Is something wrong Captain?”
Captain
Weston Reebals is a genuine old school cop. He earned his bars the right way,
working on every level in the department for twenty years and then last year he
finally landed his dream job. He’s a nice looking guy, with light brown hair
and a sprinkling of gray. He has the clearest green eyes, encased with thick
lashes and dark rimmed glasses that warm you and makes you want to confess all
your sins. He is a true gentleman, but that doesn’t stop him from keeping my
ass in line when I start going rogue on him. One thing to keep in mind about
Captain Reebals, he is never , ever overdramatic.
He
shifts in his seat and lets out a heavy breath before leaning back and crossing
his arms. “Sam, I got a call from the district attorney’s office this morning,”
he states guardedly like I might explode on impact to whatever news he has for
me.
“Okay…”
He stares at me for another moment and that’s when I see the concerned sunk
deep in his eyes. “Did something happen involving our case that I’m not aware
of?” I ask seriously, but then throw in a little sarcasm to mess with him. “Or
are you going to report back to me every time you speak with D.A. Cecena? You
know, I think she has a thing for older guys.” I wink and his jaw drops open.
“What? You’re a free man now, and even though she and I can’t be in a room for
more than one minute before we go for the other’s jugular, I think someone like
you could wrangle the barracuda. Besides, my beef with
her is professional. I’m sure she’s a great woman away from the courthouse.”
“Are
you finished?” he asks exasperatingly, leaning forward and resting his elbows
on his knees. He pierces me with a glare and threads his fingers together,
waiting for my answer and daring me to be insubordinate.
“Almost,”
I pause, tapping my finger on my chin, but before I can come up with something
cheeky he cuts me off.
“Sam,
Mark Hatfield was released.”
I
flinch away from him like his words literally just reached out and struck me
across the face. Irritation and repulsion rolls my stomach. I can’t remember a
time that I could’ve been more pissed off than I am at this very moment.
Drawing from all the years of forced compliance under my father’s thumb, I chew
on hundreds of vile comments. Finally, I can’t take sitting another second so I
bolt up to stand and pace as much as allowed inside this port-a-potty size room
for a good solid minute before I yell, “Are you fucking kidding me? How in the
hell…?” I stop right in front of him and with a tone too damn inappropriate for
my superior, I demand, “Don’t tell me that the fucking D.A.’s office agreed to
bail!”
Shaking
his head and holding his hands up to calm me, he says incredulously, “Sam, it
was three million dollars. He’s a fucking petty ante pusher. Not even the judge
expected someone to post his damn bond.”
“Who
did it?” I growl angrily, needing the name so I will be sure to seek out and
punish that fucker for all the hell Mad Hatter is sure to rain down now that he
is back on the streets.
“It
was anonymous,” he mumbles. I narrow my eyes, glaring at him and waiting for
him to clarify that answer. “Well, not
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