Ella
I sat in the backseat and stared blankly out of the window. The car was very quiet as we drove through the city and so my mind drifted. Detective Wayne was driving while his partner sat quietly on the side.
How far was my workplace from the central police station? I asked myself. Maybe twenty minutes tops if I didn't have to run. I looked at my watch, it was half past 1 PM while my shift started at 3 PM.
'Lucky me,' I said to myself. If I finished on time, I could take a brisk walk and still be early for my shift.
I would be 21 soon and my mother always told me I could make a difference. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was destined for more in life.
I was lost in that thought when Detective Sinclair answered a call. She spoke in a low tone but I could make out the words 'suspect is with us' and 'we're headed to the station right now.'
Was I a suspect? I asked myself. I'd asked the detectives if I was under arrest back home and they said it was just to fill out some paperwork. I felt a chill down my spine. What if my father was right? The police were not supposed to investigate insurance claims.
"Are you okay back there?" Detective Wayne asked me as I spotted him looking at me from the rearview mirror.
"Yep," I said, "Who was that on the phone your partner was talking to."
Both of them stole a glance at each other and Detective Sinclair replied. "Just the office, checking on our status," she said, "You know, routine stuff."
"May I ask you a question, Detective Sinclair?" I said with boldness, "If you'd oblige me."
"Sure," she said, "Why not?"
"It's something my father asked you guys back home," I said treading carefully, "I didn't get your reply before I went to get the car document. Is it your job to investigate insurance claims?"
Detective Sinclair hesitated so her partner replied. "Uhm... well, it depends, you know," Detective Wayne replied, "Normally, we don't do that except if the insurance company raises an issue of fraud."
I knew I was right but this wasn't the time to stop. "So how long does that take?" I asked gauging their reaction from the rearview mirror, "You know, the insurance investigation?"
"That depends too," he replied, "Could be days or whenever they wrap up their investigation."
His partner tapped the dashboard and made a sound suggesting he had said too much as they exchanged another glance.
"Ooh," I muttered, feigning indifference as I looked out the window. Now it was certain that Mr. Kingston was calling the shots here if he could bypass due process and invite the cops.
My finger slowly itched towards my phone. I had to tell someone about this. My heart raced as I typed out a quick message and hit send.
"We're here," Detective Sinclair said, "Please follow us."
I swallowed hard and pushed open the door of the car.
I followed them silently and the sounds of car horns and the city faded as we entered the station.
My pulse quickened; this was actually my first time in a police station and I didn't know what to expect.
The detectives led me straight to the front desk, where a mean-looking sergeant looked up from whatever he was doing.
"Please drop your bag here and any other item in your pocket," he said nonchalantly, pointing to a big tray on the counter.
I hesitated. I was expecting a call or a text anytime soon and dropping my phone wasn't the best option for me now.
"It's standard procedure, Ella," Detective Wayne said, "You will get it back once we're through with the paperwork."
My fingers tightened around the phone in my pocket. I tried dropping the bag slowly. Then I took one last look at my phone. No call or message yet. So I resigned myself to fate and dropped it too.
"Alright, this way please," Detective Sinclair said.
"Let's get this over with," I muttered under my breath.
It was going to be a long day, I reckoned, as I was ushered into a room marked Interrogation room.
But I sure wasn't going to allow Mr. Kingston to determine my fate.
*****
Enzo
"Stay in the car," I said with a note of finality to Abel as I stepped out of the car and walked towards the entrance of the police station.
I barely heard the sound of Abel's footsteps behind me or whatever he was screaming at me. My attention was on my phone and what I was about to achieve here and now.
Suddenly, I turned to face him.
"Enzo, you don't have to do this," Abel said, a hint of concern in his voice.
"Please go back to the car," I said puzzled at his concern, "I told you I'll handle it from here."
Abel hesitated, but with a reluctant nod, he turned and walked back towards the car.
I pushed through the glass door where my friend, Donald, was waiting for me.
"It's good to see you, Enzo," Donald said with a wide grin.
"You too, Don," I said accepting his outstretched arm for a handshake.
"Come on, let me introduce you to the detectives handling this case," Donald said, "We can catch up on old times later."
We soon got to an office marked Financial Crimes Task Force. Donald knocked and entered and I followed suit. He gestured toward two detectives - a male and a female- looking over a file in the far corner.
"Hey guys," Donald called out to them, "He's here." As they drew closer Donald introduced them to me. "This is Detective Wayne and his partner, Detective Sinclair. They are the ones in charge of this investigation."
They both gave me a nod. "Pleasure," I said nodding back.
Donald patted me on the shoulder. "I'm stepping out for lunch," he said, "But you're in good hands. we'll catch up later, okay?"
"Sure thing," I said shaking his hands again, "Sorry for the impromptu call."
"No biggie," Donald said. And with that, he exited the room.
"Right this way," the male detective said as they led me down a hallway, "We'll show you where she is."
We reached a door marked Observation Room, and as we stepped inside, I noticed the one-way mirror overlooking the adjacent interrogation room.
"She's in there," he said.
I stepped closer to the mirror, my eyes locking on Ella Anderson, the girl who had walked into my office this morning and made me give hell to my PR team. She was sitting at the table, fidgeting with her hands. Her eyes darted nervously around the room, clearly anxious and confused.
"How long has she been in there?" I asked with a knot forming in my chest.
"A little over thirty minutes," Detective Wayne replied, "We haven't spoken to her yet. Just waiting to finish with the paperwork before we proceed."
I watched Ella closely. She was indeed a beautiful girl but she looked lost. My resolve softened as a pang of pity enveloped me.
"Can she hear us?" I asked.
"Of course not," they chorused.
I cleared my throat. "So what's the update?" I asked in a low voice.
"Well, she's just your regular girl," Detective Sinclair said as she opened the file she was holding, "Ella Anderson, 20 years of age, a student, in final year marketing at the local college here in New York City. Father's out of work due to an accident some years ago. Mother works two jobs. She waits tables to help out."
The other Detective chimed in. "She doesn't have any mob connection as far as we know," he said.
"How do you know that?" I asked.
"We did take her phone at the entrance," he said, "We told her it was standard procedure but we gave it to the tech guys to run a background check. Nothing out of the ordinary."
"So nothing suspicious, yeah?" I asked to be sure.
"Not really," the lady detective said, "There are numerous messages to one number - a guy named Jake, who we presume is her boyfriend. Apparently, he helps to pay her tuition fees. Her last message was to him also. She told him to come here, just in case she needed bail. Smart move, if you ask me."
I couldnt help but smile a little at that. Ella was already prepared for the worst. That was impressive and that was someone I would love to have on my team.
"So, what should I do here?" I asked, "I want her out of there she's not going to be a burden to me."
"I don't think there is much to be done," the female detective said, "You don't even need to involve the insurance company because the Pontiac is in bad shape. Couldn't even start when it was towed, but a few bucks would fix it."
I looked at Ella again; her nervous energy was evident even through the glass. She was obviously in a tough spot. For a moment, pity crept into my chest.
"I need her out of there immediately," I said, "I will have my office sign a check before she gets home. Thanks for your time, gentlemen."
"Glad to help, sir," the male detective said as I shook their hands.
This whole thing had been much ado about nothing, I thought to myself as I stepped out of the station. Just a young lady caught in the wrong situation.
And I hated to admit it, my driver had been right all along.
But again, I still had unfinished business with Ella. I wasn't going to allow her stunt to go unpunished.