AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Do you need a lawyer?" I said.
"I'll handle it."
"You can still call me, right?" I said. "One phone call? To let me know if there's anything more I can do?"
He lowered his voice, turning to look at me as we reached the police car. "I'll be all right, Olivia."
The officer opened the door and guided him in. As I hovered there, the officer gave me a surprisingly sympathetic look and said, "You'll have to step back, Miss Jones."
I did.
Gabriel ducked his head to look at me out the cruiser window. "May I have a brief word with Ms. Jones? Please?"
The officer hesitated. I suspect he wasn't as willing to be nice to Gabriel, but the request was worded so politely, the tone downright deferential, that he told his partner to hold up. Gabriel motioned me closer, and the officer stepped away. As I bent to listen, I could see the tightness in his face, the anxiety. He might be acting calm, but he'd just been arrested for murder.
I opened my mouth to speak, but he beat me to it. "I didn't do this, Olivia. Whatever you may hear, whatever you may think--"
"I know you didn't," I said.
I squeezed his arm, fast, the briefest touch, not giving him time to flinch.
"I'll fix this," I said. "You've said that to me many times. Now it's my turn. I'll fix this."
"Take my car." Gabriel struggled for a wan smile as he nodded for me to take his keys from his jacket pocket. "Just be careful with it."
The cops tried to intervene, but Gabriel told them he'd only picked up the vehicle that morning, so it wasn't evidence. The bill of sale was in the glove compartment.
As soon as the patrol car pulled away, the reporters swarmed.
I had every intention of making a calm statement. Admittedly, my past record for this had not been good, but I wasn't going to walk away without supporting Gabriel. Except it was like trying to kneel and pray in the middle of a rugby mob. When I opened my mouth, I got shouted down. When I tried to step back, I got jostled and blocked. Just as I was ready to give up, the crowd began to part, and I heard a familiar "Hey!" and "Move!" When they saw who it was, they stepped aside, much like a herd of ravenous swine makes way for the guy carrying the fresh bucket of slop.
Ricky elbowed through to me.
"Gabriel--" I began.
"I heard," he said, his face grim. He took my arm and turned to the guy nearest us. "Move!"
Getting me out of that crowd wasn't as easy as getting himself in. But he managed, while also keeping his middle finger raised in front of me.
The crowd wasn't as big as it seemed, maybe a dozen reporters and beyond them a layer of curious mourners, which pissed me off more than the journalists. The media was just doing its job, but the others were supposed to be there to honor James.
I whispered to Ricky, "I need to make a statement." He could have said, What the hell? He'd rescued me from the mob and now I wanted to engage it? But he only nodded and led me to Gabriel's car, where he positioned us with our backs to the vehicle, blocking anyone from coming up behind us, while also securing an escape route.
"Listen up!" Ricky said, his voice ringing over the shouted questions. "Ms. Jones is going to give a statement, and if you want to hear it, you're going to shut the fuck up. Got that?"
A murmur of outrage from the mourners. Obviously, joining a mob at a funeral was fine, but God forbid someone should swear.
"She's going to do this once," Ricky said. "If you don't let her finish, she'll get in this car and you'll have nothing, because she's not answering your questions or--" He spun on a young woman, slipping up beside him with her recorder. "You! Get the hell back now."
She scrambled away so fast you'd think he'd pulled a gun. Which is probably what they expected for the encore.
"Anyone else gets that close?" Ricky said. "We leave." He turned to me, his voice lowered. "Go on."
I gave my statement. Gabriel had been arrested for James's murder. It was obviously a trumped-up charge, stemming from ongoing animosity between Gabriel and the police. The fact that they felt the need to dramatically arrest him at the funeral proved it. I felt guilty saying that after the officers had been relatively decent about how they carried out their orders, but it was the slant Gabriel would put on it.
I went on to express my dismay and anger at the fact that James's service had been disrupted. I was appalled by the way the police--and media--had disrespected his memory. I made it absolutely clear that I supported Gabriel and that I had no doubt he'd be released quickly.
When I finished, Ricky said, "We'll take Gabriel's car. Do you want to drive?"
