Tres Leches Cupcakes (10 page)

Sadie was almost in tears by the time the officer had finished taking her pictures, fingerprints, and shoes—thank goodness she’d worn those footsy socks and didn’t have to walk around barefoot. Or maybe they had booties they’d have offered her, like at a hospital, if she hadn’t had her own. They led her to a holding cell that was basically a big concrete room about twenty feet square with bars on the front, a cement bench running the length of the back wall, and a stainless steel toilet in one corner—no privacy whatsoever. Sadie was so glad she hadn’t drunk that entire Coke.

Seeing the cell looming before her made it all so real. The police had really booked her. She was really in jail! And they hadn’t let her make a phone call. Did Pete still monitor her from Colorado? What if he found out she was in jail before she had a chance to explain? He’d think she was trying to hide things from him again, but she wasn’t. She was dying to call him.

“What happens now?” Sadie asked the officer who was walking in front of her. She tried not to let the emotion show in her voice as they approached the cell meant for murderers and Mafia kings.

“We’ll finish your paperwork, figure out bail, and set a court date to appear before a judge. Then you can make some phone calls.”

“How long will that take?” It was almost midnight. Caro must be worried sick! Sadie felt tears coming to her eyes and pushed them down. She could not cry in jail; she’d be beaten up for sure. But she felt so bad for the stress she was causing Caro. Would Caro call Pete when Sadie didn’t come home?

“However long it takes,” the officer said without emotion.

The sound of the big metal barred door opening was horrible, and she had to swallow the tears again.

The only thing in her favor was that the cell was empty. What she wouldn’t give for a bottle of bleach and a scrub brush.

The officer walked away, and Sadie tried to think positive thoughts. If she were a mystery novelist or a journalist, she might be able to see this as a valuable learning experience! But she wasn’t either of those things. She was a retired elementary schoolteacher with really great reflexes—surely that wasn’t criminal.

She paced for the first hour, sat on the bench for the second hour, and gave in to tears for the third. She was just recovering when an officer came for her. She was certain she was being freed—pardoned from the terrors of having been actually arrested—but instead they took her down the hall and put her into another cell almost exactly the same as the first one except in this one there was a rough-looking bald woman who appeared to be passed out on one end of the cement bench.

Sadie asked about her phone call again, but was told “Not yet” for the fourth time. She prayed her new roommate would stay asleep and sat down as far away from her as possible.

Sadie watched the bald woman for nearly thirty minutes, trying to prepare herself for how to react when she came out of her stupor. Should she try to make friends? Every time she heard a noise outside the cell, she held her breath and straightened, waiting to get permission to make her phone call or be informed that there had been a mistake—it had to be close to three o’clock in the morning now, right? Cameras were mounted in every corner of the cell, but she was afraid to try to get anyone’s attention for fear she’d get in more trouble, or wake up the bald woman. Luckily, her cellmate kept sleeping, and eventually Sadie propped herself up in the corner and let herself relax, just a little. She closed her eyes in hopes of finding some level of calm amid all the anxiety, and prayed she’d be let out soon. She wasn’t sure how long she could hold everything together under these circumstances.

“Hey.”

Sadie felt herself jolt before blinking her eyes open to see a big round head a couple feet from her own face. Moving away from the bald woman who was violating her personal space was reflexive, but the concrete bench didn’t allow much room for retreat, and instead of putting distance between her and the scary woman, Sadie tumbled onto the concrete floor. She quickly scrambled to her feet and pressed her back against the wall, still trying to wake up completely. She didn’t want to think about all the horrible things she’d touched when her hands hit the floor. What time was it? How long had she slept?

“What’s wrong with you?” the bald woman said.

“Nothing,” Sadie said quickly. She realized she was pressing herself flat against the cinderblock wall, fingers splayed and everything. She forced herself to relax somewhat, but smiling was beyond her abilities. “I—I was asleep,” she said dumbly, then feigned a yawn and a stretch. “Tough waking up sometimes, ya know?”

The woman stared at her with big, dark eyes surrounded by saggy, pockmarked skin and no eyebrows at all.

“You want breakfast?”

“Breakfast?” Was it morning already? The police had taken her watch along with everything else removable, and without windows in the cell, she had no idea what time it was. Was it possible she’d slept for a few hours?

“It’s coming in a few minutes. You want yours?” The bald woman cocked her head to the side in what Sadie took as a challenge.

“Nope!” Sadie said, shaking her head. “I’m not hungry.”

The woman smiled, revealing surprisingly good teeth, then stood up and returned to her end of the bench. She didn’t say anything else, and Sadie moved back to her corner. She was so tense her jaw hurt.

A few minutes passed before she heard clangs and footsteps from the other side of the bars. Sadie held her breath but didn’t move.
Please be coming to let me out,
she pleaded in her mind.

Sadie’s cellmate darted to the door before a guard appeared with two Styrofoam trays holding Styrofoam dishes filled with food. The bald woman motioned Sadie to come forward and get one of the trays, which Sadie hurried to do. She returned to the bench and sat with the tray on her lap until the guard left, at which time she put the tray on the bench and pushed it toward her cellmate.

“Thanks,” the woman said, pulling the tray closer to her side while she ate her bowl of oatmeal.

“You’re welcome,” Sadie said, although she was pretty sure if she hadn’t shared, she’d have been sorry. She thought of the breakfast burritos Caro made nearly every morning—simple, filling, delicious—and had to close her eyes as her longing to be back at Caro’s nearly overcame her. Tears pricked her eyes, and she blinked them back quickly.

She walked up to the bars in hopes of finding a clock somewhere. She couldn’t see one, however, just doors with windows in them at either end of the hallway. When she turned around, the bald woman was drinking down the juice from the bowl of peaches and watching Sadie over the rim of her bowl. She wore a man’s T-shirt and had some letters tattooed onto the back of her fingers.

As hesitant as Sadie was to talk to this woman, there was no one else to talk to, and she was suffocating from the lack of information. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Breakfast is at 6:30,” the woman said after finishing off her peaches and reaching for the fruit on Sadie’s tray.

Six thirty? She’d been here for seven hours already? Sadie turned back to the bars and held on to them with both hands even though she knew they were filthy from thousands of other unwashed hands that had held these same bars. “They didn’t let me make my phone call.”

“Yeah, sometimes it takes a while.” This woman spoke from experience. “You makin’ bail?”

“I don’t know,” Sadie said, looking down both sides of the hallway again. “I’m not even sure how bail works.”

“Someone puts up money or stuff to make sure you come to your court date.”

“How do I even get a court date? Will I go in front of a judge?” Would she have to wear one of those horrible orange jumpsuits?

“Sometimes you go to a judge, but lots of times they go by the schedule.”

Sadie looked over her shoulder. “Schedule?”

“Bail schedule—assigned amounts based on what you done.”

“Is disorderly conduct on the bail schedule?”

“That what you done?” the woman asked. She’d worked through both breakfasts and now held a Styrofoam cup of coffee in each hand.

“That’s what they
said
I did,” Sadie clarified, looking back out of the bars before accepting no one was coming. She sat down on her end of the bench again, keeping her hands in her lap in hopes of touching as few surfaces as possible.

“I hear ya,” the woman said with a nod.

“And then, if I get bail but don’t show up for my court date, Dog the Bounty Hunter comes after me?”

The bald woman snorted and drank from one of the coffee cups. “Court opens at eight, things get moving after that. First arrest?”

“Sort of,” Sadie said, thinking about how her interference with a police investigation a couple of years ago had resulted in a few hundred hours of community service and an official arrest record. “I turned myself in last time, and I knew most of the officers.” Specifically, she knew Pete, who had been with her throughout the entire process, which had been calm and fluid and necessary. Did Pete know she was here yet? Did anyone know? She realized she should have asked the guard who brought the breakfast tray about her phone call. Caro would be worried sick.

“What you do to get disorderly conduct?” the woman asked after she’d finished off her own coffee and started on Sadie’s.

“There was a bar fight, and someone said I started it.”

“You came out pretty good,” the woman said. “Both your eyes isn’t black.”

Sadie rubbed her left elbow. Her back ached, though she couldn’t be sure it wasn’t from sleeping against the wall. “Yeah, I guess I was lucky in that way. But it wasn’t my fault—we were just asking some questions and then everything went really wrong.”

“Maybe you asked the wrong questions.”

“Yeah,” Sadie said dryly, “of the right person it seems.” Why else would Shel have reacted the way he had unless he had something to hide? He knew someone—someone who told him to dig and who helped him get rehired to the smaller crew assigned to finish up the dig. Sadie shook her head. She didn’t want to think about that anymore. She should never have gone to the bar. And why had Margo been so aggressive? Where was she now?

“What bar didja fight at?” the woman asked.

“The Conquistador.”

“On Valero?”

Sadie looked at her. “You know it?”

“Sure,” the woman said. “Not the kind of place a lady like you goes to though. What’d you go there for?”

“I needed to ask some people some questions,” Sadie said again, letting out a heavy breath while reviewing how few answers she’d received.

“What kind of questions?”

Sadie cast a sideways glance at the woman and realized she should be more evasive. She didn’t know anything about this person other than the fact that she was in jail. And that didn’t necessarily say glowing things about her character . . . though Sadie was there too, and she was innocent so perhaps she shouldn’t be so judgmental.

“What are you in here for?” Sadie asked by way of changing the subject.

“The cops always bring me in when Mack and I start fightin’,” she said, shrugging. “Just ’cause I’m bigger.”

“Oh,” Sadie said.

“Mack’ll bail me out after work. What kind of questions were you asking at that bar?”

“Oh, nothing important.” She managed a smile, wondering if it was standard etiquette to share stories between convicts. “I’m Sadie.” She considered putting out her hand to shake over their budding friendship, but that seemed a little out of place. Only after giving her name did she consider whether she should have said Sarah. Too late now.

“Lily,” the woman said before polishing off the other coffee and then turning to eye the toilet in the corner.

Sadie’s breath caught in her throat; Lily had just drank two cups of coffee. Oh dear.

A door opened at one end of the hallway, and Sadie leaped to her feet, barely restraining herself from running to the bars again. Though she no longer felt in fear of her life from Lily, she was still eager to get out. She was holding her breath when she heard the door close and then footsteps come closer. If they let her out, even just long enough to make a phone call, Lily could have her privacy.

When none other than Pete Cunningham came into view, Sadie’s mouth dropped open. After a moment of pure shock, Sadie ran across the cement floor, reached through the bars, and grabbed both his hands.

“Pete!” She let go of his hands and reached for his face, but the crossbar blocked her arms so she grabbed the sleeves of his jacket instead. There could be no more beautiful sight than this—Pete Cunningham!

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she said through her tears, letting go of him with one hand so she could wipe her eyes. She pulled her hand away to see a thick black smudge of mascara; she’d forgotten how much makeup she’d worn last night. “Did you drive all night? How did you know? They wouldn’t let me call you. Have you talked to Caro? I’m not really under arrest, am I? No one’s even questioned me since I got to the station. Did I mention they wouldn’t let me call? Is that even allowed?” She realized she was rambling and stopped, just staring into his face instead, taking in every detail and trying to read his expression through that bland detective-mask he wore. Was he angry? Worried?

“You okay?” he asked in a careful tone, looking past her.

“I’m fine,” Sadie assured him. She waved over her shoulder. “This is Lily. She’s been very nice.”

Pete nodded in Lily’s direction, not breaking the mask. “Then maybe I should leave you in here—it might be safer that way.”

He started to smile at his joke, but the mere idea brought on a fresh round of tears and soon Sadie was unable to see his face through the black mascara curtain.

“I’m kidding,” he said quickly, gently.

“Please get me out of here,” she said through her tears. “Please, oh please, get me out.”

Breakfast Burritos

½ pound chorizo sausage (other types of sausage can be used, or omitted altogether)

8 eggs, beaten

1 (4-ounce) can diced green chilies, drained

2 tablespoons mayonnaise

8 flour tortillas

Brown sausage in large skillet over medium-high heat, drain. Remove from pan, drain oil, and set aside. In the same pan, add beaten eggs and cook until scrambled, but not yet dry. Add chilies and sausage and finish cooking. Remove from heat. Add mayonnaise and mix. Place a large spoonful of sausage-and-egg mixture in the center of a warmed tortilla and fold into a burrito.