Chapter 17

I don’t know how long I sat in that room, in handcuffs, on a metal chair. I would have been more comfortable sitting on the hard, tiled floor without the handcuffs. No one checked on me. No one brought me my phone and charger. No one came in to ask questions. I started to believe that everyone had forgotten about me.

My stomach grumbled. I was hungry. Even after that huge breakfast this morning. Either my metabolism had gone way up since they arrested me, or it had been several hours.

My right arm had long since gone numb, and my left arm started to hurt too. It wasn’t a matter of boredom anymore. This was bordering on cruel and unusual punishment.

I couldn’t hear anything other than the hush of the air circulating in the room and my own heartbeat. Either the room was soundproofed or nothing too important was going on out in the hall.

I could imagine some of what may have happened already. The ambulance loaded up Riley and carried him off to a hospital. Rawlings may have called in the Chief of Police to assess the situation. The Chief may have called in the Sheriff. The two heads would have talked to Rawlings and Jenkins, to find out what they knew. Then someone would have talked to Leo. He certainly had enough time to get his story straight, especially to make me out to be the bad guy. They would have asked him to repeat the story a couple of times, and even write the whole thing down. It was probably the most imaginative bit of writing ever to leave his head. He never did very well in English when it came to that sort of thing.

What I didn’t know, and had no way to confirm, was whether the woman on the phone understood my message and conveyed it to Mr. Van Dusen. For that matter, I could only hope I had the right Steven Van Dusen. It wasn’t a common name, exactly, and my message was a bit vague, but I didn’t have much of a choice at the time, and the officers here weren’t exactly giving me the opportunity to make my one phone call.

I tried to get comfortable, but the pain in my arm and the bite of the handcuffs wouldn’t allow it. My patience was wearing thin. If the officers didn’t come in soon and take off the damned handcuffs, I would use magic to remove them.

I closed my eyes and thought about the handcuffs. I could imagine the basic mechanics that allowed them to click into place and release. The spring-loaded catch allowed the teeth of the other half to pass in one direction, but not the other. The key rotated the catch back, allowing the other half to pull out, and thus release the person’s wrists. I could see all of that in my head, knew how it worked, and knew that I could unlock them easily. I focused on rotating the catch of one handcuff. My intent set, I put forth my Will, and...

The door to the room opened.

I looked up at a man with graying hair, a clean-shaven face, and a suit that probably cost more than I would make in a year. Mr. Van Dusen stood in the doorway, his briefcase in one and the doorknob in the other. He studied me for a second and then said back over his shoulder, “Could we please remove his handcuffs?”

Then he moved out of the doorway over to the desk, and set his briefcase down.

Jenkins stood in the doorway. “I’m afraid of what the prisoner will do to you if we don’t keep him restrained.”

I looked up at Jenkins. He was right. There’s no telling what I would do, however. “Whatever, I do, it’ll have to wait until I can feel my arms again.”

Jenkins stared at me.

Mr. Van Dusen waved at me. “Remove the restraints, Officer. Mr. Connors is in no condition to offer any kind of challenge to you or me.”

Oh, I could challenge both of them, but I wasn’t going to say that aloud.

Jenkins grunted and then moved into the room.

I stood up and offered him my back.

He removed the handcuff from my left hand and then pulled it around and locked it on the desk drawer.

I looked at him. “Really?”

Mr. Van Dusen waved me down. “Is there a problem, Officer? Did I not make myself clear?”

“I will not leave him alone with you in this room without some form of restraint,” Jenkins said.

I looked at Mr. Van Dusen. “It’s okay. We’ll sue the department later.”

Mr. Van Dusen looked at me, thought about it for a second, and then asked me, “How long have they had you here in restraints?”

I shrugged with my left arm. I still couldn’t feel the right one. “No idea. All I know is that I’m hungry and no one has brought me my phone or the charger.”

Mr. Van Dusen looked at his watch, a gold Rolex. “It’s almost two o’clock now.” Then he looked at Jenkins. “I received Mr. Connors message this morning at about nine-thirty. That’s almost four and a half hours with his hands cuffed behind him without processing.” He looked at me. “I believe we have grounds...”

“Fine!” Jenkins barked. Then he unlocked the handcuffs from the desk and me. “But if he escapes or hurts you to do so, that’s completely on you. I’ve warned you multiple times.”

“Yes, you have, Officer,” Mr. Van Dusen said. “Now, if you do not mind, I would like to speak to my client alone.”

Jenkins grumbled something under his breath and left, closing the door softly after him.

Mr. Van Dusen waited for several long heartbeats and then turned to me. “I have spoken to both Officers. They have witnesses who corroborate Mr. Leonard Sparks’ account of what happened outside of the station. What I need to hear is your account.”

I wanted to ask about the witnesses, because to my knowledge, there weren’t any. I told him what happened to the best of my knowledge, and he took notes. He asked me about the two-by-four and the bat. He asked if I struck either of my attackers, which I had to confirm kicking Riley’s hands to disarm him. Other than that, I couldn’t offer anything to prove I didn’t attack them, and I said as much.

Mr. Van Dusen shook his head. “That’s not for you to worry about, Mr. Connors. The fact that both of your attackers were using weapons and you were unarmed will go a long way toward your defense.”

“And what about the witnesses you mentioned. I didn’t see anyone else around while this was going on.”

“They claimed they were afraid to approach the police until after you were in custody,” he said. “If their stories held any merit, then I would be sympathetic to them, but there are key details that each one remembers differently.”

I shook my head. “This is Newton Grove, Mr. Van Dusen. No one here cares about the truth when it comes to me.”

He gave me a reassuring smile. “I do, Mr. Connors. I do.”

“Then I’m hoping you dismissed the allegations that I attempted to rape a girl in high school,” I said.

“That came up, but my assistant failed to locate any formal reports on the incident.”

“Because it never happened. I got in trouble at school for looking at a girl, Lisa Hartwell. They gave me a detention. By the time school ended that day, and I served my detention, the whole town seemed to believe that I had nearly raped her. It’s not a matter of what’s true here. Rumor will suffice for most of the citizens.”

“Well, I don’t pay attention to rumor,” he said. “As for today’s incident, you have the right to press charges of battery assault.”

“But they never touched me,” I said.

“They attempted to cause massive bodily harm with a bat and two-by-four. The fact that one of them hit the other rather than you only goes to prove their intentions toward you.”

“I’ll be happy to drop the charges if they do,” I said.

Mr. Van Dusen nodded. “Sounds fair to me.” Then he closed everything up in his briefcase and stood up.

I stood up too and offered my hand to shake.

He smiled, shook my hand, and then went to the door. “Oh, and if any of the Officers or the Sheriff try to question you...”

I nodded. “I’ll ask for you and say nothing else.”

He nodded and tried the doorknob. It was locked. It didn’t faze him. He knocked on the door and waited for Jenkins to open it.

Jenkins held it open with his eyes on me.

Mr. Van Dusen stood in Jenkins line of sight until Jenkins pulled back enough to focus on him. “Be sure to bring my client something for lunch. His stomach kept interrupting our conversation.”

Just on cue, my stomach grumbled again.

“Fine,” Jenkins said after rolling his eyes.

Mr. Van Dusen looked back at me and said, “I’ll have you out of here within the hour.” Then he looked at Jenkins again, and finally stepped out of the doorway.

Jenkins grumbled something and pulled the door shut without asking what I might like to eat.

Having the handcuffs removed and knowing I would be out of there soon was enough for me. Food would be a bonus, but I wasn’t going to hold my breath. Instead, I turned my chair, propped my feet up on the desk and leaned back to relax. My arms felt better, but the marks on my wrists wouldn’t go away for a while.

Not very much later, the door opened again. A man I didn’t know stood in the doorway and stared down at me. He wore a police uniform, but it was different from Jenkins’ and Rawlings’ uniforms. The badge on his chest was a star instead of an oval shield. He had short salt-and-pepper hair, and enough lines from age to put him in his fifties. He had to be the Sheriff.