Elliott moves quickly, getting between them. “Back the fuck off,” he practically growls.
I dig through the envelope, pull out my wedding ring, and slide it onto my finger. I’ll never go without it again.
“Are you threatening an officer of the law?” The cop’s voice shakes as he looks up at Elliott.
“I’m telling you to treat her with respect or I’ll fucking end you. So if you find that to be a threat, then yes.”
“Elliott.” Calista puts her hand on his arm and gently pulls him back. “Everything’s in order. We’re ready to go.” She points to the door. “Get on with it.” Her sharp tone cuts through the tension in the room.
The officer goes to the door and unlocks it then holds it open. “Come on. You’re all free to go.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” Calista glares at him as she leads us down the hall and out into the police station.
As soon as we’re past the cell block door, I have my head on a swivel as I search for Marigold.
When I see her, my heart seems to beat again, and I push past the cop and run straight for her.
“Avery!” She darts toward me, her arms open.
Before she can get to me, her father steps into the hall, blocking her.
“Marigold, I already told you. You’re coming home with me. Take that ridiculous dress off.” He reaches for her arm, grabbing her hard, then yanks her down the hall as she yelps in pain.
That’s when something breaks inside me–or perhaps something simply flicks. Like the way you flick the safety off on a gun.
I run forward, grab her father around the neck with my forearm, and wrench him backwards. “Don’t you fucking touch her, you piece of shit,” I snarl.
“Hey!” The desk officer stands and reaches for his gun. “Let him go!”
Calista elbows her way ahead of us and stands in front of Marigold. “You’re going to pull a gun on a man who’s only trying to defend his wife?” she scolds, then points up at the video camera in the corner of the room. “It’s on video, dipshit. When the internal affairs team reviews this, they’re going to see this so-called officer of the law assaulting his own daughter while you stood by and did nothing and then had the fucking gall to pull a weapon on the one person who tried to defend her?” She turns to me. “Avery, let him go. We’re leaving.”
I squeeze harder, cutting off his air. I want to snap his neck. I should. Then again, there are too many witnesses. This will have to wait. For now.
With a shove, I let him go.
He whirls immediately, his hand going to his gun. “I could shoot you down right now for that.”
The urge to snap his neck returns, and my hands itch to do it. But I decide to destroy him in another way. “Sounds like something you’d do. Would you rather I turn around so you can shoot me in the back the way you prefer?”
All the angry color drains from his face. “Wh-what did you say?”
“You heard me.” I step to him until we’re toe to toe. “You’re not the only who can do research. While you were looking into me, I did a little review of my own.”
“Mr. Harbin’s false imprisonment case isn’t the only one I’ll be bringing. You’ve violated the civil rights of at least a dozen wrongfully convicted citizens, and done much, much worse to at least two others.” Calista glares up at him. “Watch your step, officer.” She whirls on her heel. “Let’s go.”
“Wait!” Marigold goes to her father.
I step in front of her. “Don’t do it, Goldie. He’ll only hurt you.”
“I know, but he took my ring.” She shows me her bare finger.
“Stealing property?” Calista calls loudly. “What sort of police station is this? It’s more like a mafia den.”
Marigold holds out her palm. “Give it to me. Now.” Her tone brooks no argument.
I turn, keeping close at her elbow as she gives her father a hard stare.
He looks at me, then at her, his color rising again. He knows he’s beaten, and I’ve found that cornered animals are always the most dangerous.
His eyes narrow, and he reaches for his cuffs. “Marigold Cranston, you’re under arrest for the murder of Charles Hoover.”