Page 40 of Stealing His Kitten

AVERY

“Iassure you the last thing you want is for me to contact my friends at the US Department of Justice concerning your failure to gain a proper warrant, failure to Mirandize my client, and failure to allow him access to counsel.” Calista’s harsh tone carries down the cell block to me.

I can’t help but smirk. She’ll whip these bastards into shape, and I have no doubt she’ll have me out of here in minutes, not hours.

“Right,” Elliott chimes in. “What she said.”

“You have ten minutes with him. No more.” A cop leads Calista and Elliott into an interview room down the hall from me then returns to my cell, cuffs me, then shuffles me along to join them.

Once I’m seated, the idiot cuffs me to a metal hook beneath the table.

“Is this really necessary?” Calista snaps. “You’ve already violated his fourth amendment rights. This whole department is going to be forced to pay for your incompetence as it is. You’re simply giving me more evidence.” She leans over and takes a photo of my hands with her phone. “The civil suit alone is going to take a pretty big chunk out of all the funds you guys bring in with your speed trap racket.”

“Yeah!” Elliott can’t take his eyes off Calista. He’s been a sucker for her for years, but she’s all about her career and keeping relationships on a professional level. Since she represents me and all my business associates, that means she doesn’t give Elliott the time of day unless he’s in legal trouble.

“Thank you.” She gives him a pointed look.

He closes his mouth and looks at me, the expression on his face telling me he wishes he could sink through the floor at this point. I would laugh, but I don’t feel comfortable. I won’t until Goldie is back in my arms.

“Where is she?” I ask before the cop even shuts the door.

Calista gives me a sharp nod of her head.

Once the cop is gone, she sits down across from me and opens her slim folder. “This is the warrant. Total bullshit. I already have a phone call in to Judge Monroe. This will be tossed the second he calls me back. After that–”

“Where’s Marigold?” I can’t stand not knowing where she is.

“She’s fine. Not arrested. Her father brought her in and tossed her into an interview room up front. I’ve already had a word with him, but seeing as how she isn’t under arrest, there isn’t much I can do. She’s free to go, but she won’t leave without you.”

“You saw her? Is she all right?” I lean forward, the cuffs cutting into my wrists.

“She’s fine.” Calista smiles a little. “Still wearing her wedding dress and demanding I get you out of here. She’s waiting for you, though her father didn’t look too pleased. He was smart enough not to interfere with me speaking to her, but not smart enough to keep all the rage off his face while I did it. But Marigold stood her ground.”

That warms my heart to levels I’ve never experienced. It’s never been in doubt that I’ll stick up for Marigold whenever and wherever necessary, but here she is fighting for me.

“Anyway, as I was saying, we’ll need to discuss filing our suit against these clowns as soon as possible. The false imprisonment alone would be a gold mine and–” Her phone begins to vibrate. She pulls it out and gives me a half smile. “It’s Monroe.” She takes the call, the entire conversation collegial and warm as the judge bends to her every command.

Elliott stares open-mouthed as she makes some not-so-veiled threats about what our threatened civil suit would mean for his reelection and the city’s coffers.

“Yes … yes, thank you, Judge. I’ll see you at your fundraiser next weekend.” She laughs, low and throaty.

Elliot swallows hard.

“Of course. I’ll be happy to share a drink with you.” Her tone verges on flirty.

Elliot slams his hand on the table.

“Cool it,” I say quietly. “Keep it together.”

He cuts his gaze to me, and it’s almost as if he’d momentarily forgotten I was here.

“Yes. Thank you.” She ends the call and drops the phone into her bag. “All settled.” Her voice is back to all business. “The judge is calling the chief right now. And in about …” She taps her fingers. “In about 5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … 1–” The interrogation room door opens. “They’ll be here to let you go.”

The cop from before comes in grumbling, then uncuffs me and shoves my envelope of belongings into my hands.

“Hey, you want me to add assault to the list?” Calista steps into the cop’s space. “Don’t touch my clients like that.”

“I’m the one in charge here, little lady, and–”


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