Stumbling, I eyeballed the cop and said, “Please, this is wrong! I didn’t do anything, why am I being arrested?”
Mama Badd looked my way as she passed. “You, too,” she growled. “You keep your mouth shut. Don’t say anything to the cops.”
“Anything about what?” I shouted.
That was the last I saw of the Badds before the police cars carted them off.
Dropping my forehead on the cool bars, I took a moment to consider all the mistakes I’d made in my life. What had led me to this, of all things? Jeez, I’d never been more embarrassed in my whole life than this morning.
Even waking up, remembering that I’d hooked up with Kain when I’d explicitly instructed myself not to, hadn’t been as bad as this.
Keys jingled, and I glanced up anxiously at the sight of another nameless police officer. “Come on,” he said, wriggling the cell door open. “They’re ready for you.”
“Who’s ready for me? What does that even mean?” I didn’t like how my voice broke; I was just too exhausted to hold it together. “Why am I being held here at all?”
The cop was older than me, and I guess he’d seen all sorts of people pleading in the cell I was standing in, because not a flicker of sympathy lightened his gaze. “Are you coming out of there or not?”
Scooping up my high heels, I walked past him with the last of the quiet dignity I could muster.
He led me down the hall, past other cells where people either curled up in drunken sleep or watched me with curious eyes. While I wondered what they had done, it was obvious they were thinking the same about me.
Except I hadn’t done anything! I had no clue why the wedding had been raided, or why I’d been swept up in the mess and carted off to the police station. All I knew was that I was tired, hungry, and beyond frustrated with the world.
This is all a mistake, I told myself, forcing my heart to calm. Once I talk to someone in charge, they’ll release me. They had to. Didn’t they?
Mom.
The thought of her sitting alone in her apartment filled my guts with razors. She wasn’t going to know what had happened to me, why I hadn’t come by yet to help her with her meals or to keep her company. If anything happened to her because I wasn’t there . . . I’d never forgive myself.
And I’d never forgive the Badds.
“Here we are,” the cop said, pausing beside an unremarkable white door. Through the tiny window in it, I saw there was a new man waiting at a table inside. His head came up, like he’d sensed us before the officer even opened the door. “Detective Stapler will take it from here.”
“Stapler?” I blurted before I could stop myself. “And who are you, Officer Paper Clip?”
Officer Paper Clip stared at me flatly. “Have fun.”
I regretted my idiotic question; I blamed it entirely on my unstable mood. Turning, I watched as the detective at the table rose with a friendly smile. “Miss Sage, please, have a seat.”
Glancing around the blank room, I moved to the metal folding chair and settled on it across from him. “Detective Stapler, right? Listen, I don’t know why I’m here, but it’s all a mistake.”
“Oh, I’m sure it is,” he said, nodding seriously. “We’ll get it straightened out right away.”
I sank into my seat, breathing out. “Thank you. I need to get out of here fast; my mother, she’s not well, and she’s probably wondering where I am.”
“Your sick mother, is it?” he mused.
My nodding head stopped mid-motion. “I know that sounds like a cheap excuse, but I’m serious.”
“I’m serious, too, Miss Sage.” He slid his hands apart, and I finally noticed the pale folder he’d been resting his arms on. I didn’t know what was in it, but my nerves started to spark. “This situation is no joke.”
“What situation?”
Stapler had fine lines over his bushy brows. Those lines crunched together, growing deeper as he spoke. “Tell me what you know about the Badds.”
“Almost nothing. I only met them yesterday.”
His chuckle scraped through my ears like old pottery over glass shards. “Funny, how could the maid of honor of their youngest daughter know almost nothing about her family?”
Pushing a hand against my forehead, I laughed weakly. “I get it. No, see, you’re confused.”
“I’m confused? Enlighten me.”
“Francesca was just a client. I made her wedding dress. Yeah, I also ended up as her maid of honor . . .” Plucking at my orange frills, I smiled at him as hard as I could, hoping he’d give in and smile back. No such luck. The tension remained. “It just kind of happened.”
“You’re telling me you became the maid of honor for a woman you only met yesterday?”
“It’s a funny story. You’ll laugh, I swear.” My chuckle came out as stiff as cardboard. “Her best friend sent some rude photos to her fiancé the night before the wedding. She was in a pickle, I stepped up. How could I not?”
Opening the folder with a flourish, Stapler slid a photo my way. Then another and another. Lifting them, I stared at the vibrant images of me waiting at the end of the aisle. There was even one of me from behind, and you could clearly see Kain’s hand on my ass cheek.
I was going to kill Kain. Seriously kill him. Tear-his-balls-off-and-dance-on-top-of-them kill him. Flushing, I pushed the photos back across the table. “I just admitted that I was her maid of honor, there’s no need to show me these.”
“There’s a story in those pictures, Miss Sage.” His grin cocked sideways, a fat finger jabbing at the photo of Kain and me. “You’re acting pretty familiar with someone you don’t know so well. Or is this just how you are with strangers?”
“Fuck you,” I snapped. Swearing at a detective wasn’t my proudest moment, but being accused of being some kind of whore wasn’t winning him any points. “You’ve got everything all mixed up, and I still have no idea what you’re trying to prove.”
Stapler watched me closely. “You’re really telling me your only connection to these people was a wedding.”
“That’s all. Can I go?”
With careful pacing, he pushed two new pieces of paper at me. They were photocopies of checks; the payments from Kain for the dress and from his mother for the help with the party. “My math isn’t great,” he said slowly. “But this looks to be about thirty grand right here. Tell me, who gets paid thirty grand to make a wedding dress?”
Licking my lower lip, I met his serious eyes. They were kind of pretty for such a weathered man. “Is it a crime to get paid to help people out? Is that what I’m being charged with?”