Not quite,I think, counting it out. I've got exactly five grand left. Enough to bail out Chico and Jake with some leftover.But what happens after that?The thought stops me cold.This isn't the end of what Dez will ask for. He'll want more money, he always will.I didn't have a way to get it, not unless I stole from my mother's florist shop. The thought turns me inside out.
This is because Dez and his pals can't keep themselves out of trouble.Breaking the law was an expensive hobby. He called them his problems. Did he think of them as friends? Did they care about each other or was it a constant back and forth of using each other for money and drugs?
Looking at the cash fanning in my grip, I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. They're in jail because they got caught. But my hands aren't clean. One wrong move, and I'll end up next to them.
The police station in Crestwind resides close to downtown. It's a lot like the courthouse with its reddish stone structure, but there are no tall steps here. There's a big flat parking lot in front, the doors flanked by stone eagles. Their wings spread wide, beaks open, like they're screeching.
Steeling myself, I exit my car and go inside the building. I've never been in here. My father was a prime candidate for being arrested, but I always found him before he got in trouble for being intoxicated in public. I squint from the overly bright rectangular lights hanging from the ceiling. A round-cheeked white woman sits behind a long counter, her attention on me the second I walked inside. She's in her police uniform, hair slicked back in a bun. She's the epitome of professional, except for the large pearl earrings she has on. They fit a fancy vintage dance party, not the grim air of a police station.
“Can I help you?” she asks.
Glancing side to side—there's a row of chairs with five people waiting, then double doors on the other side that I can't see beyond—I approach the desk. “Yeah, I'm here to bail out two guys.”
“Friends of yours? Family?” she asks, not smiling.
“Neither.”
She scrunches her nose, making me think I should be less honest. Too late now. “What are their names?” she asks, turning towards her computer.
“Jake Nobhill and Chico … I actually don't know Chico's last name.”
The police officer rests her soft pink cheek on her fist with a dubious stare. “Honey, you have to give me more than that.”
I'm standing there feeling like a complete idiot, out of my element. “I don't know,” I mumble. Rubbing my forehead, I struggle to think of what to say to help her look Chico up. “Chico … Chico is, um …”
“His name is Patrick Nico,” a male voice says behind me. I step aside, surprised to see Alemo walk up next to me at the desk. He looks like he slept in the wrinkled green shirt and jeans he’s wearing. “Didn't expect to see you here, Lorikeet.”
Unsure what to do, I'm relieved when the woman says, “Patrick Nico? Yeah, found him. He's been here for five days now, so has Jake. They were booked together.”
“Thank you,” I say to Alemo.
He chuckles, but there's a cleverness in his blue eyes I don't like. “Why are you cleaning up after those two? I thought you were engaged to Dezmond. You got some poly-thing going on?”
Flushing, I grit my teeth, face the police officer. “Can you tell me what I have to pay to get them out? It should be three thousand, I think.”
She taps the keyboard. “Bail for Jake is one thousand five hundred and Patrick is two.”
I grip the desk to remain steady, because my head is swaying.Good thing I brought extra in case Dez was wrong.“Okay,” I say softly, digging in my purse.
The woman is a little surprised. Alemo, though, has a sharp smile ready to go, a small laugh escaping. “You really are rolling in it. Well, well, lucky Dez.”
“Please, leave me alone,” I whisper.
“I'm just saying, a lot of guys around here would kill for a sugar momma like you.”
God, I'm going to be sick. “Go away. Now,” I hiss, glaring at him.
The officer has caught on to my mood—she eyes Alemo up and down. “What can I helpyouwith, Alemo? Here to bond someone out, too?” She knows his name without him telling her. I guess he's here a lot.
“No, no,” he chuckles. “Just checking in on a court appearance I gotta make. Got a little bit of self-defense I have to explain to a judge.” He shoots me a wink. “Some asshole got drunk at the Drip Head a while back and wants to claim I assaulted him when it's the other way around.”
He's talking about Dezmond.
“Alright,” she sighs. “Let me take care of this first.” Her attention returns to me, she holds out her hand. “Payment is cash only, you got that?”
Nodding, I pass her the envelope. Alemo watches closely. He's standing too near, making the hairs on my neck bristle. I whisper, “I heard about that fight.”
“Did you now?”