As I sat in the stiff, unforgiving
metal chair, I placed my elbows on the table. My handcuffs jingled as they slid
against the cool metal surface.
They had arrested me at the Halloween
festival. I was running the grills, so it would have been pretty hard to miss
their interruption, the embarrassment of them carting me off and shoving me
into their vehicle. As if I hadn’t struggled enough as a woman to get
permission to run the grills, now they’d never give me another chance.
“Where is Heather Barnes?”
They asked me. This good cop bad cop routine didn’t work on me. I stared
straight ahead, pretending not to notice the young detective who was looming
over me. I could almost smell his desperation to solve this case.
Heather had been missing for some time,
and her family was begging for any information possible.
The jingle of my chains rattling
against the table as my hands shook seemed to be irritating him. I remained
“Where is Heather Barnes?!”
He raised his voice, smacking the table.
“You know we’ll find her,”
the other cop said softly. I struggled not to laugh.
No they wouldn’t, I thought, my mind
flashing back to working the heat of the grill.