Wendy
Copyright© 2018 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 2
“I can only assume ... by the total disaster of my purse ... that it was not the only thing of mine that was thoroughly searched.” Wendy said.
Mr. Black shoe blushed.
Wendy blushed.
Mr. Black said, “Several times.”
They had reached the parking lot door, when Wendy noticed the surveillance camera.
“I’m going to demand the film ... films ... of the physical searches ... all of them.”
“They’re in black and white ... we can’t afford color cams.”
Wendy turned around and headed for the front of the station. The first office door that was open beckoned.
The man in his shirt sleeves sat bolt upright when Wendy grabbed his phone.
“Lady, what in the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Calling my dad.”
There is that about the police ... whatever branch ... that assumes you’re guilty if you are a civilian in their offices. It is the Judicial Branch that decides innocence. The enforcement branch doesn’t. Someone brought you in ... you’re guilty.
“There’s a pay phone in the hall, girly.”
“I’m an officer of the court,” she said. “Yours was the first phone I saw.”
He looked he up and down and back up stopping at the cliff of her blouse. Wendy is centerfold material ... centerfold of the year. He opened his mouth to retort when Mr. Black shoe said. “Charlie ... don’t.”
“Daddy ... I’ve been illegally detained. Meet me at the...” she looked at Mr. Black. He told her. She continued, “Stapelton Security Desk. Bring a Judge ... make it a Federal Judge.”
There was a row of chairs ... straight backed, flat bottomed and of inconvenient height ... neither too high nor too low ... but unlike Baby Bears chair ... the chairs were most genuinely NOT just right. Wendy picked one from the center of the row and sat.
She looked at Mr. Black shoe and said, “Have a seat ... it’ll be a while.”
Mr. Shoe ... Black ... took a seat. Almost immediately he began to squirm.
Conversationally, Wendy said, “You know, one of the Senior classes in Court Room Procedures tells us to pay attention to the witnesses ... squirmers are guilty ... or lying. Then we learned about court room furniture. These are extremely uncomfortable.” She paused, “What are you guilty of?”
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