At the Drop of a Hat (10 page)

“We'll have to pull rank. Follow me,” I said. I pushed my way through the crowd. It took a few shoves and one sharp elbow, but I finally made it to the desk.

“When will the inspector be available to answer questions?” a female reporter asked the constable.

“I haven't received a schedule from him,” the constable answered. “But I'll let you know when I do.”

She glanced at me and her expression changed from one of annoyance to one of concern. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, could you let Inspector Franks know that Scarlett Parker is here to see him,” I said.

“What's it regarding?” she asked.

I leaned close so that the reporters couldn't hear me and whispered, “The Russo murder. I was on the scene.”

The constable straightened up. She gestured for me and Viv to follow her. Protests sounded from the reporters behind us, but the officer didn't show any interest in their whining. Instead, she led us through a door into a waiting area.

“Have a seat,” she said. “I'll tell him you're here.”

Viv sat next to me, looking as if she was afraid to touch anything. I couldn't blame her. Although the place seemed clean, it wasn't the cream of society passing through here, was it?

“What do you suppose he's in here for?” Viv whispered.

I followed the line of her gaze toward a man down the hall sitting on a hard wooden bench like ours. He was talking to himself and would occasionally give himself a good slap across the face. The cheek being smacked was a vibrant shade of red, so whichever one of his personalities was doing the slapping, it really didn't pull any punches.

“Domestic violence,” I said. “Or does it not count if you're smacking yourself?”

“Well, if you feel you deserve it, I don't think it can be considered abuse,” she said.

We watched as the man rocked back and forth and then hugged himself.

“Oh, that's nice,” Viv said. “They've made up; maybe now he'll get to go home.”

“I wouldn't bet on it,” I said.

“Scarlett!”

I turned at the sound of my name to see Alistair Turner striding down the short hallway toward us. Today he was wearing an impeccable navy blue suit with a crimson necktie. It was definitely a power suit.

“Alistair,” I said as I rose to my feet. “Good to see you. Is Ariana still here? Is there any way we can go and see her?”

Alistair had stopped in front of me, but his attention was one hundred percent captured by Vivian. He looked like he'd been frozen in place and I was pretty sure he hadn't heard a word I'd said. I sighed. Viv was known to have this effect on men.

Wearing a darling knee-length pale blue Jenny Packham day dress, with her long blond curls hanging down past her shoulders and her makeup applied lightly but effectively, Viv was stunning. Alistair looked like he'd swallowed his tongue.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” I said. “Alistair, this is my cousin Vivian Tremont. Viv, this is Alistair, a friend of Harrison's and Ariana's barrister.”

“Nice to meet you,” Viv said. She glanced at him briefly and then away as if she was uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

“I assure you, Ms. Tremont, the pleasure is mine,” he said. I glanced between them. Alistair looked like a dog shaking water off his coat when he turned back to face me. “I'm sorry, Scarlett, I was preoccupied, what was that you said?”

“We were wondering if we could see Ariana,” I said. “I imagine she could use the support.”

“That's very kind of you,” he said. “They haven't told me that she isn't allowed visitors. In fact, Stephen is with her now.”

“Excellent,” I said. “Could you take us to her?”

I felt the need to get moving before Inspector Franks appeared and I had to admit that I had lied about wanting to see him.

“Certainly,” he said. “Follow me.”

We stopped at the custody desk, where they checked us over and made us turn in our personal belongings. I assumed it was so we couldn't slip Ariana a hacksaw to file her way out. Viv looked less than pleased at leaving her purse in the gray plastic tub. Behind the desk, I saw another room through a glass window. The walls had six television screens and I realized the video feed was from the cells. Only four of the televisions showed occupants and I recognized Ariana's dark hair in one of them.

I nudged Viv with an elbow and pointed. Her eyes went wide and then she looked horrified. I followed her gaze to a different monitor and saw that the person in one of the cells was throwing up.

“Oh, gross,” I said.

The uniformed officer in the monitor room didn't look thrilled either.

We were buzzed through a security door and then led into another hallway that had several dark blue metal doors. I saw Stephen standing in the open door of the one nearest to us with an officer at his side.

“Come on,” I said to Viv, and we rushed past Alistair.

“Scarlett, Vivian, you're here,” Ariana said. Her face was red and splotchy, her eyes puffy from crying and her nose chapped from blowing.

The custody sergeant held up his hands to slow us down. “There's too many of you. Someone has to wait up front.”

“I'm her barrister,” Alistair said.

“I don't care if you're her sister,” the officer said. “Only two visitors at a time.”

“We'll just be a moment,” I said to Stephen when he seemed reluctant to leave. He nodded.

Alistair jerked his head in the opposite direction to indicate that Stephen should follow him.

I watched as the two men walked away. Alistair's voice was low and I couldn't make out what he was saying over the din around us

“Hi, Ariana,” Viv said. “We thought you could use a little support.”

“Oh, that's so nice of you,” she said. “I'd offer you a cup of tea or another beverage, but . . .”

I felt my heart pinch at her attempt at humor. The tiny closet-sized room behind her contained a steel commode in the corner with a sort of sink built into the top of it.
Ew.
The only place to sit was a hard-looking bed with a thin blanket and a pillow.

Viv put her hand over Ariana's. “It's going to be all right.”

The compassion made Ariana's flip demeanor crack, and she bowed her head and nodded. I could tell she was fighting back tears so I went for a distraction.

“We wanted to check in with you about your wedding hat,” I said.

Ariana's face lit up for just a second but then she frowned. “I don't know that there's much point in fixing it. I don't know if I'm going to be released in time to get married.”

“Have they formally charged you?” I asked. “Or are they just holding you as a suspect?”

“No, there's been no formal charges but Alistair said they can hold me up to ninety-six hours with a magistrate's approval without formally charging me,” she said. “I suspect this will be the longest ninety-six hours of my life.”

“Ariana!”

We all turned to see a middle-aged woman bearing down on us. She was dressed in an ankle-length skirt that rode up a little bit higher in the back due to her rather large posterior. She paused to hug Stephen and thump him on the back but then kept on coming. Her intent to get to Ariana was clear, and both Viv and I backed up to give her room.

“Oh, my dear, this is awful, just awful,” the woman cried. “How could this have happened? What can they be thinking? Who is in charge? I want to talk to them.”

“Trudy, it's all right.” Ariana gave the woman a smile that was full of affection.

“All right? It bloody well is not all right,” the woman said. She had broad features and her gray hair was twisted up into a knot on the top of her head. Her hands were big and looked like they knew their way around a toolbox if need be. This was no shrinking violet. I liked her immediately.

She looked us up and down and frowned. I could tell she was the sort of person who did not tolerate screwups. “Beg pardon, that was rude of me. And who might you two be? You're not detectives, are you?”

“No!” Viv and I said together. The anger in the woman's glare demanded a quick response of the negative.

“We're milliners,” Viv said.

The custody sergeant looked like he was about to step in and enforce his rule of two. Trudy froze him with a look before she turned back to us.

“Goodness gracious me, you don't say,” Trudy exclaimed. “Whatever are you doing here?”

“Ariana commissioned a wedding hat from us so we came to make sure she still wanted it,” Viv said.

“You must be the girls from Mim's Whims. Ariana was so excited to find someone to fix her mother's hat,” Trudy said. She paused to sniffle a little bit into a tissue. “She is going to be such a lovely bride. But I have to say, coming here under the circumstances, well, that is impressive customer service.”

“Indeed. Ms. Tremont, Ms. Parker, a word, please.”

I turned around to see Inspector Franks standing right behind us. Uh-oh.

“Inspector Franks,” I said. “Just the man we were looking for. Right, Viv?”

“We were?” she asked. I stared hard. “Oh, yes, of course, we were about the . . . uh . . .”

Viv glanced at me in a panic. Of the two of us, she really wasn't the quickest on her feet. Me? I could lie to get out of a jam before I even realized I was fibbing. Truly, it was a gift.

“We are thinking of stocking cowboy hats,” I said. “And since you are such an Alan Jackson fan, we thought you might want to know. What size head do you have anyway? Have you ever been properly measured? I'm quite sure if you pop into the shop, Viv can measure you.”

Franks stared at us for a moment. I knew he didn't believe a word I said, but he looked like he was deciding to play along. He rubbed his mustache. “An authentic Stetson would really add to my karaoke set.”

Viv was looking at me over his shoulder. She mouthed the word “Stetson?”
I ignored her because I'm good at that, too.

“Oh, we also came down to see how our customer and friend Ariana is doing,” I added. “We're working on her wedding hat, you know.”

“So you said,” Franks said. “Brown or white?”

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“The hats,” he said. “Will they be brown or white?”

“Both,” I said. It was impetuous, no question, especially when Viv started jumping up and down behind his back like she was having a fit, which, of course, she was. I had a feeling Viv wanted to carry cowboy hats about as much as she wanted to chew tobacco and learn to spit.

“Excellent,” he said. He gave me a broad grin under the mustache. “Let me know when they're in.”

“Will do,” I said.

He turned his attention to Ariana. “We're going to be taking you in for another round of questioning in a few moments.” His voice was sympathetic when he spoke. “You'll want to advise your counsel to come with you.”

“I'll go and get Stephen,” Trudy said. She squeezed Ariana's hand with her fingers. “Chin up, my girl. We'll get through this.”

We watched her walk down the hall. She was clearly a woman on a mission.

Ariana gestured to the custody sergeant standing near us and then asked Franks, “May I have a few moments alone with my friends? Girl talk.”

“There really is no place to receive visitors,” Franks said, looking around the custody area with a frown. “All right, if the three of you want to chat in private, you can go in there.”

He waved toward the cell behind us. I glanced at Viv and felt myself start to balk but then I looked at Ariana and realized she had many more hours to go in the tiny room on her own. If she wanted to talk to us in private, surely, I could handle it since I would get to leave.

We piled into the skinny room and Inspector Franks gave us all a nod and then he headed back down the cell-lined hallway. The officer closed the door after us.

I stood a good half foot away from the wall and folded my arms over my chest. I was determined not to touch anything.

“Is it just me or does it seem like Franks isn't really going after Ariana?” Viv asked.