Page 73 of Benjamin and the Thief

“I know that. But I’ve gotta speak to Catalina now.”

“They don’t allow visitors at this time.”

“You’re a police officer. You can get in. I have evidence that the security video that shows Santiago breaking into the Prestons’ safe is a deepfake. The Prestons doctored it. And Judge Norton is dirty. He’s a close longtime friend of the Prestons.”

“Fuck! You sure?”

“A hundred percent. I need to speak to Catalina. She needs to know. Now.”

“Alright, give me half an hour to get to the jail on 7th Street.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

He disconnected the call and headed for his car.

32

There was no comfortable position on the hard bench, no matter how she turned. Her arm was throbbing, although she couldn’t see any blood seeping through the bandage. Whoever had seen to her injury had done a good job. However, it did nothing to wipe away her pain, both the physical one as well as the one that had shattered her heart. How could she have fallen in love with Benjamin so quickly and so deeply to make herself so vulnerable? Within a few days and nights, he’d completely changed her life, only to destroy it so completely within seconds.

Her tears had finally dried, but sleep wouldn’t come. Catalina heard sounds echo in the concrete building. She wasn’t even sure where she was. Most likely in the city jail, perhaps at the same place where they’d brought Santiago when they’d first arrested him. She couldn’t hear any cars or any other sounds from the outside world. There was no window in her cell, and she had to assume that was the case for the other cells too. She heard other inmates toss and turn just like herself. Somebody was shuffling up and down in a cell close to hers, another person was knocking rhythmically against the steel bars of their cell. Nothing dulled the sounds: no carpets, no rugs, no bedding, nothing to absorb the constant din inside the jail. Was this a preview of what her future looked like?

She shuddered at the thought, and she felt cold all of a sudden. She closed her eyes, trying to will herself to sleep, but to no avail. Too many thoughts whirled around in her mind. Too many questions demanded answers, which she didn’t have.

A sound interrupted the noise around her. Footsteps. They were determined, and they came closer with every second. Instinctively, she sat up and looked at the door. Her pulse kicked up a notch. She sat there, frozen in both hope and fear, when finally a person appeared in front of her cell door. It was a guard, but not the same one from earlier. This man was skinnier and at least two decades younger.

“Catalina Vargas?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper.

“Yes?”

She rose from the bench and approached.

“There’s been a mistake,” the guard said. “You’re being released without charges.”

She couldn’t believe her ears. Had she fallen asleep after all and was dreaming of a miracle? She pinched herself, but she didn’t wake. This was real.

“Thank you, thank you,” she said.

She heard the key being turned in the lock, and when the guard opened the door, she stepped outside into the corridor, feeling a semblance of relief.

“Follow me,” he demanded.

She followed him as he led her through a labyrinth of corridors, until he finally turned to her and motioned to a nondescript door.

She hesitated. “Is there no paperwork to sign?”

From everything she knew about Santiago’s trouble with the law, she knew that nothing happened without a wad of papers that needed to be filled out and signed.

“If you wanna stay another twenty-four hours, I’m sure somebody will fill out some forms, but that’s up to you. You can either leave now without any paperwork or stay if you like it here so much…”

His voice and facial expression gave the impression that he was mocking her. Or maybe he was simply tired, didn’t want to deal with more paperwork, and was cutting her some slack.

“No, no. I’ll leave now. Thank you.”

Quickly, she pressed down the door handle and opened the door. Fresh night air greeted her as she stepped outside. Behind her, the door fell shut. She looked around and noticed that she was in a parking lot. She heard the sound of traffic just beyond it and focused her eyes in that direction. She could make out the freeway overpass. Relieved that she recognized where she was, she turned to her right.

“Miss Vargas.”

The male voice came out of nowhere, and she shrieked.