CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
The only person who served as a medic at the precinct was out on duty, so Ava had to settle for Lottie’s charming bedside manner in the ladies’ restroom. As Lottie helped her to wash the blood away from her arm, some of it having dried and caked up around the wound already, Ava started to worry she may require some actual medical attention.
But once the skin was cleaned off and the wound was revealed, it turned out to be not as bad as she feared. It was long, and had nearly nicked a vein, but that was the worst of it. The bleeding was already starting to dam up. It would leave a scar for sure, but there would be no visits to the doctor.
“Another daring arrest?” Lottie asked as she dried the area off.
“Well, technically, Frank did the arresting. I just punched the guy.”
“Was it the right guy this time?”
“It was,” Ava said, surprised to find that she didn’t feel quite as victorious as she’d hoped. “In the end, it was the son.”
“Well, let me get this bandaged up for you and you can go tell Carter Epps he’s officially free.” When she saw Ava’s look of surprise, Lottie grinned. “What? We all know what you’ve been up to. Yes, even us lowly broads down in the WB office. And we were all rooting for you.”
“Thanks,” Ava said. She watched Lottie apply a bandage to the area, wrapping some gauze around her arm.
“You’re representing us well, girlie,” Lottie said, stepping back to admire her work. “Keep it up, would you? Just maybe stay away from knives from here on out.”
They parted ways as they exited the ladies’ room, Lottie heading back to the WB offices while Ava went off in search of Frank. She supposed he was already in an interrogation room with Marcus Lincoln. Yet, as she made her way to the hallway that contained the interrogation rooms, she saw Carter Epps. He was being escorted out of the building quickly by two officers. They were marching along the far side of the bullpen, making a direct line for the lobby and the front doors.
She forgot about the interrogation rooms at once. She redirected herself toward the lobby, hoping to cut off the officers who were taking Epps away. She made it just in time, angling in front of them when they were just feet away from the doors. One of the officers was a somewhat familiar face from around the bullpen, always giving her looks of condescension.
“Where is everyone headed?” Ava asked.
“Making sure he leaves the precinct,” the officer on the right said.
“He’s been let go, correct?” Ava asked.
“He has.”
“Then let him go. You think he’s going to hang around here any more than he has to?”
The officer that she’d seen from time to time gave Carter a little push in her direction. “Fine,” he said. “Then you escort him out.” His attitude was far too similar to that of the Lincolns and it made her wonder how deep it truly did run in the precinct.
“Detective Gold,” Carter said, “I can’t thank you enough.”
“You don’t need to thank me at all,” she said, walking with him to the doors. “Sorry about the way they were handling that.”
“Hey, I get it. They had the wrong man and didn’t want to admit it. So of course they’re going to want to get me out of here as quickly as possible, with no one seeing.”
“Are you good to go now?” Ava asked.
“Yeah. And I owe it to you. It’s a shame I can’t ever pay you back.”
“Tell you what,” Ava said as they walked through the doors and out to the street. “Next time you guys play somewhere and I happen to show up, you can pay for my door charge.”
“You’ve got a deal.”
She watched him leave the precinct, walking with his head down and a bit of speed in his step. She couldn’t deny that it felt good to free an innocent man and to make sure the right man went to prison for the crime. With that in mind, she couldn’t help but think of Clarence. She thought of the information she now had on Clarence’s potential killer—about a visit she needed to take out to Welfare Island to speak with a man by the name of Kenny Sanderson.
And because they’d managed to free Carter Epps with about two and a half hours to spare, she thought she might head out that way before the day was over. But first, there was Marcus Lincoln to deal with. She dashed back inside and after checking the room logs, she found Frank sitting in a smaller interrogation room with Marcus.
When Marcus saw her enter, he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms defiantly over his chest. Ignoring him completely, Frank looked at Ava’s bandage and frowned. “How’s the arm?”
“Not too bad. This is Lottie’s handiwork.”
“That’s a good word for it.” He sighed and then looked back to Marcus. “He says he’s not saying anything else until his lawyer gets here. But because his father handled all of those affairs, he doesn’t even know who the lawyer is.”