Torn (Lords of the City #1) (49 page)

I cleared my throat and nodded politely. “Yes, Your Honor. I assure you I have no interest in leaving town. I’m innocent of these charges and eager to clear my name.”

“Bail is set at half a million dollars,” he declared, slamming his gavel onto the desk. “Court is adjourned.”

We all rose to our feet as Judge Shaw stepped off of the bench and through a large oak door. The room relaxed and I turned to face my uncle. At some point during the hearing, Ethan and Claudia had joined him. I wasn’t sure who to hug first, but Ethan took a step back and let Walt have the honor. My uncle wrapped me in a bear hug and extended one hand to Frank.

“Thank you so much, man. I owe you one.”

“I’m happy to help,” the lawyer replied. “Next time we take the ladies out, I’ll let you pay for dinner.”

“You arranged for Frank to represent me?” I asked, pulling away. When I left the hospital, I assumed Ethan would call one of his family attorneys, the Noel man he’d mentioned. It never crossed my mind that Walt might know someone who could help.

“Yes, Claudia went to school with Frank’s wife, Deborah. We all get together from time to time,” Walt explained.

I gave Claudia a quick hug and then fell into Ethan’s arms. He held me close and kissed the top of my head. “I’m so sorry, baby. I—”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” I insisted. “The only person who should be apologizing is the monster who really attacked Alfie. I want to know what we do next. How do we prove that I’m innocent and, more importantly, figure out who isn’t?”

“There are many steps. But unfortunately, before we discuss them, you and I have to go back to the police station. Detective Dickson wasn’t too happy to have his interrogation delayed by this hearing,” Frank warned.

“Let’s get it over with,” I agreed. “I have nothing to hide. I want to cooperate with the police as much as possible so they’ll stop wasting their time with me and look for the real culprit.”

“We’ll come to the station and wait to drive you home,” Walt offered.

I shook my head. “There’s no sense in all of us being stuck there. I can take a taxi home.”

“I can drive you,” Frank piped in. “We’ll need to talk strategy after we’re finished with the cops.”

Ethan cleared his throat. “Walt, Claudia, you’re welcome to wait at my house. We can set up a command center of sorts for the case. And that way, Emily will only have to recount the interrogation once.”

“That’s an excellent idea, Ethan. Thank you,” Claudia accepted with an appreciative smile. Walt didn’t seem as sold on the idea.

“I think I should be at the station,” he insisted.

“I won’t let anything happen to her, Walt,” Frank promised, his voice full of patience. “I see this a lot with parents. Things like this happen and you feel helpless to do anything about it. But you did the best thing you could have: you called me. I’ve got it from here, I promise.”

“If anything unexpected happens, you’ll call me, right?” Walt pressed.

“Of course I will,” Frank agreed.

“Is there anything special you’d like for dinner, Emily?” Claudia asked, leading the conversation in a more lighthearted direction.

I shook my head. “Surprise me.”

“We really do need to be getting to the station,” Frank pressed.

Ethan kissed the top of my head again and made me promise to call if I needed anything. I hugged Claudia and Walt, then left through the side exit with Frank.

“Tell me the truth. How bad is this?” I asked once we were alone. Our footsteps echoed down the marble hallway and a slight chill filled the air.

“I’ve seen worse. But I’ve seen a lot better. This is a circumstantial case, Emily. And an emotional one, considering the circumstances. A defenseless child was intentionally hurt. The natural human reaction is to demand someone pay for that. The obvious blame falls on you, since the child was in your care. I have to warn you that even if we prove your innocence, you’re likely to still be judged in the court of public opinion.”

“I know,” I agreed, covering my mouth to muffle the sob that wanted to escape. “How far has the news spread?”

“The story was already trending online before I took the case. Most of the major national networks, news and sports have already run segments,” he replied matter of factly.

“So even if I somehow manage to keep my teaching license, I’m basically unemployable?”

Damn it. I love Ethan. But there are definitely disadvantages to living in the spotlight.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, Emily. For now, let’s just concentrate on the task at hand.”

We stepped into the parking lot and I was relieved to find it photographer free. Frank ushered me into a black Cadillac SUV and turned toward the police station.

“What did you tell the cops while you were in custody?” he asked.

“I said I would cooperate fully, but not until my attorney was present.”

“That’s it?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “No professions of innocence or polite small talk that could possibly be misconstrued?”

“A female officer offered me coffee a couple of times. I said no. That’s the extent of it. It was hard to keep my mouth shut,” I confessed. “Especially when Detective Dickson started suggesting that I’m some sort of psychopath. But I kept my cool.”

“I wish all my clients had your restraint. You did exactly what you were supposed to do, Emily. When we sit down with Dickson, just follow my lead. I promise to get to the bottom of this as quickly as possible so you can get back to your life.”

“M
iss Kinkaid, Mr. Upton, thank you for coming back this evening,” Detective Dickson greeted us as he stepped into a larger interrogation room. This one had the two-way mirror and I couldn’t help but wonder how many people were watching us.

“We have every intention of cooperating with this investigation,” Frank replied, shaking the detective’s hand. “Please don’t take Miss Kinkaid’s earlier silence personally. She was instructed not to speak to anyone until I was here.”

“You’ll be happy to know she barely uttered a word,” he said, his lip curling in disgust. “This is my colleague, Detective Masterson.”

A short, pale man with curly red hair stepped into the room behind Dickson, filling the room with the sickly sweet aroma of chewing tobacco.

“Detective,” Frank greeted him with a nod.

Masterson glared back at him, not offering a handshake as his partner had.

Shit. If Dickson is the good cop, we’re in for a long night.

Masterson leaned against the wall while Dickson leaned back in the chair across from us. He kept his tone casual and started the interrogation.

“Miss Kinkaid, can you tell me when and where you purchased the trail mix you gave to Alfie Hollis?”

“I bought it at Valley Health on Cross Avenue. I’m not sure of the exact date, but it was sometime in August. If I looked at my calendar, I could narrow it down. But it’s in my classroom and I’m not allowed on school grounds.”

“I’ll arrange to have your things picked up tomorrow,” Frank promised.

“Did you buy anything else that day?” Dickson pressed.

“Yes, I did. The Hollis family provided us with a list of foods the kids were allowed to eat. We provided all of the other parents with the list in a notice we sent home explaining the Hollis twins’ situation. I wanted to have plenty of allergy-friendly snacks on hand, so I stocked up on most of the nonperishables the Hollis’s suggested. I bought the trail mix, dried fruit, and some coconut honey clusters.”

Detective Dickson scratched in a notepad while Masterson continued glaring at us from against the wall.

“And do you provide snacks for all of your students or just the ones with special medical considerations?” the detective pressed.

“I bring donuts for breakfast on the last day before Christmas break and the last day of school, just as a little extra treat for the students. Other than that, I don’t give the kids snacks. The parents are allowed to bring in cakes and cookies on their children’s birthdays. I knew some of them were bound to forget about Alfie’s allergies and I didn’t want him to be left out while the other kids had treats. So I went to the health food store and stocked up on things he could eat.”

Dickson nodded, still gazing down at his notepad. “And after you bought the food, what did you do with it?”

“I left the bags in my trunk and carried them into my classroom the next morning. I put them in a drawer and they’ve been there ever since.”

“How many times have you provided Alfie Hollis with one of these special treats?”

“Again, I’d have to look at my calendar. But if I remember correctly, we’ve had six birthdays so far this year and none of the parents provided allergy-free alternatives.”

“And did you have permission from Mr. and Mrs. Hollis?”

“Excuse me?”

He looked up and raised an eyebrow. “Was I unclear?”

I blushed and looked away from his gaze. “No… it’s just… no, I didn’t have specific permission to give Alfie an allergy friendly treat if the other parents failed to provide one. But they understood that the other parents would occasionally bring snacks.”

“Did you have permission from the school officials to provide Alfie Hollis with these allergy friendly alternatives?” Masterson finally spoke.

My face flushed hotter. “No, I didn’t have specific permission to give Alfie anything. But I wasn’t breaking any school policies, either.”

“Miss Kinkaid, is it true that you recently ended a long-term relationship with one of your colleagues?” Dickson continued.

“I was involved with Ben Simmons for a year. We broke up a few months ago.”

I don’t see what that has to do with any of this.

“Would you call that break up amicable?” he pressed.

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Detective, I don’t see what my client’s relationship history has to do with this case,” Frank broke in.

Detective Winston shrugged. “You know how this works, Frank. At this point, we don’t know what might be relevant. For instance, if Miss Kinkaid went through an embarrassing, public breakup with one of her coworkers, she may have felt motivated to revamp her image a little. The little boy has a scare, she saves the day with the Epi-pen, and suddenly she’s everyone’s hero.”

“That’s preposterous,” I snarled.

Frank put a calming hand on my forearm and glared at Dickson. “That’s a terrible, insulting accusation. And it’s one you have no grounds for. Emily has admitted she bought the trail mix and gave it to Alfie. Believe me, if I doubted her innocence for a second, I wouldn’t have allowed her to tell you that much. She didn’t poison Alfie Hollis. But someone did, and my client is more motivated than anyone to figure out who that was. We want to cooperate, but I won’t sit here and let you insult her.”

“I’m just trying to get to the truth,” Dickson said with another shrug.

“Maybe your theory is a little off, partner,” Masterson said. He spat into a Styrofoam cup and finally sat down next to Dickerson. “Maybe the old boyfriend wasn’t her motivation. Maybe it was the new one.”

I don’t know what’s more offensive: what they think I did, or why they think I did it.

Dickson cocked an eyebrow. “That
is
a good idea. McAlister gets a lot of airtime, doesn’t he? And the fans don’t like you too much. They think you’re a distraction. But if your hero scenario had played out the way you planned, they’d have never said another word against you.”

“Gentlemen, my client has had a long day and this is starting to get ridiculous. If you have any other questions, please get to them. If you’re just going to throw wild accusations around, we’ll be leaving.”

“The accusations aren’t so wild,” Masterson warned. “If there were ever a slam dunk circumstantial case, it’s this one. Emily admits that the food was in her possession from the moment it left the store. Everything in that drawer tested positive for traces of dairy. And every single package had been opened. Our forensics expert did a preliminary examination and believes the perpetrator folded a cloth over the bags and resealed them with a straightening iron. Tell me, Miss Kinkaid, do you own a straightening iron?”

I shook my head. “Sorry to disappoint you, but my hair is straight as a board all on its own.”

Masterson glared at me, but pressed on. “We’re comparing the prints we took from you today to the ones we lifted off of the snack packages. When they match, this case is no longer circumstantial.”

I’d had enough of the angry detective’s condescending threats. “Of course my prints are on the packages. I imagine you’ll also find some from health food store employees, other customers, hell the person who boxed them up at the distribution center probably left at least one fingerprint. Will you be harassing them as well, or just me?”

The detectives had no smart ass retort to my question. The duo stared at me with equal amounts of anger and disgust; Frank smiled beside me. I tried to remind myself they were just doing their jobs. If I had been guilty, I’d deserve all of their hateful comments and then some. I hoped that when the real culprit was caught, he or she would be treated a hundred times worse than I’d been. But I still resented the fact that they thought I was capable of doing such a terrible thing.

“Miss Kinkaid, I understand that you had a difficult childhood. You lost your parents as an infant and moved a lot while you were growing up. It’s not uncommon for people with that type of history to develop emotional or mental deficits. Have you ever been diagnosed with a mental illness?” Dickson asked.

I stared at him, unable to believe he just asked that question. I shook my head. “My childhood wasn’t perfect. But I’m not damaged. I could never hurt a child, Detective.” I cleared my throat, swallowing the emotion that surged up. “I hope that as your investigation continues, you’ll be able to see that.”

“We would like you to meet with our staff psychologist, just the same,” Masterson countered.

Frank slid his paperwork into his briefcase and rose to his feet. I pushed my chair away from the table and stood as well, thankful he was calling an end to the interview.