Page 6 of Serve and Protect
“That’s enough.” I grab one of the woman’s wrists and pull it behind her back. “You’re under arrest.”
“What for?” she shrieks. “I didn’t do anything.”
I grab her other arm, pulling it behind her so that I’m holding both of her wrists in one hand. I retrieve my handcuffs and secure her.
“On what charges?” she demands.
“Well, for starters, how about disorderly conduct, public nuisance, and simple battery.”
“Battery?” she says, nearly spitting the word. “What are you talking about?”
“I saw you grab Ms. Lopez’s arm.”
“So what if I did? It’s a free country.” The woman tries to jerk out of my hold.
“Would you like to addresisting arrestto your list of charges? Now, where’s your ID?”
“In my purse.” The woman scowls at me. “On my table.”
Jennie retrieves the woman’s purse and hands it to me. “I’m sorry about all the commotion,” she says, smiling apologetically. “I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to start your day.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?” I ask her quietly. “I saw her grab you.”
Jennie flexes her arm, rubbing it and wincing slightly. “It’s just sore.”
When I ask the woman for permission to obtain her ID, she gives it, and I pull out her wallet and locate her driver’s license—Bianca Hayes from Helena, Montana.
“All right, Mrs. Hayes, let’s go,” I say as I direct the woman toward the exit.
“Go where?” she shrieks. “Where are you taking me?”
“To jail. Where do you think?” It’s all I can do not to laugh at her indignation.
She sputters in shock. “Do you know who I am? You can’t take me to jail!”
“Actually, I can.”
“I want to call my husband right now! And my attorney!”
“Relax. You’ll get your chance to make phone calls after you’re booked.”
I pause a moment to glance back at Jennie. She looks a little flustered after her ordeal, but otherwise she seems fine. I allow myself a full second to take her in. If I weren’t here on business, I’d stay long enough to eat a slice of her famous pecan pie. Anything that would give me an excuse to stick around a little while longer.
I try not to dwell on the notion she might have gotten hurt here today. When she smiles at me, my heart rate kicks into overdrive. Even after all these years of pining for her, I still feel gut punched when she looks my way.
“Call me if you need anything,” I tell Jennie as I nudge the Hayes woman toward the exit.
Before I’m out the door, Jennie calls after me, “Will I see you at lunch?”
I nod. Barring a schedule conflict, I have lunch here every day. Sometimes alone, sometimes with Micah. I often come for dinner, too. I say it’s because I hate cooking, but the truth is I just want to see Jennie.
When we were kids, I thought she was the prettiest, kindest, and smartest girl around. I still do.
I doff my hat to her. “I’ll be here.”
* * *
I ignore the constant bitching coming from the backseat of my cruiser as I drive Mrs. Hayes to the station. After taking her inside, I leave her in the capable hands of Deputy Stephens to book her and lock her up. It’s early enough she’s likely to get to see a judge today. I imagine she’ll be out on bond before dinnertime. Based on all the jewelry she’s wearing, I don’t think paying the bond will be a hardship for her.
