FanStory.com - The Unwilling Heir - Chap 38by Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 37
"Hands in the air!"

Startled, Sandra dropped the file she was holding, her head snapping toward the man, pointing a gun in her direction. Her voice trembled as she stammered, "I can explain."

"You're under arrest for trespassing. You can do your explaining at headquarters."

"The judge sent me here." Sandra knew she sounded foolish, but she had nothing else to offer.

"Lady, I might be new to the force, but even I know the judge's been dead for over a year."

Sandra looked around the room, praying Patrick would rescue her. "But — I was supposed to meet Jack."

"Sure, you were. Unfortunately, Jack must have forgotten. It's inconvenient for you, but he took a few hours off."

He took out his handcuffs and told Sandra to put her hands behind her back. As he escorted her out of the office, she muttered, her voice filled with desperation, "Patrick, where are you?" She was under arrest, her heart sinking, without a plan or a ghost to help her.

*****

CHAPTER 38
Sandra found herself in a holding cell, sitting on a concrete bed with a two-inch mattress. Her heart raced. Two cells away, a woman was clinging to the toilet, retching violently. Across the aisle, another woman screamed in agony, begging for a fix.

The clock on the wall over the exit door said it was 6:45. Time was slipping away. She needed to get out of there and find Jack, or else everything would have been for nothing. She tried telepathy but failed to move the hands on the clock. Annie, also known to some as Miss Punctuality, would be at her desk at seven sharp, and Sandra planned on making her one call.

"Guard, excuse me, but I was told I could make a phone call at seven o'clock."

The uninterested woman lifted her head from the book she'd been staring at and checked the clock. She grumbled, "It's 6:55."

After very little sleep, Sandra struggled to control her temper, knowing that angering the woman would only make matters worse. She smiled graciously. "I know, but I thought it would give you time to get away from some of this, and we'd be near the phone at seven."

The woman in the cell with the vomit everywhere chose that moment to moan. "Guard — Guard, I need help." The awful sound of dry heaves followed her wailing.

Without another thought, the guard lumbered from her chair, reached for her keys, and walked to Sandra's cell. "You're right. I could stretch my legs a little."

The clanking of the cell door opening echoed throughout the small chamber. Sandra stood, relief washing over her. She wasted no time when the guard waved for her to come out.

*****

Sandra was led to a room with only a desk and a chair. The phone, Sandra's lifeline, sat in the middle of the desk. She hurried into the room, sitting on the metal chair, and dialed her assistant's number.

Annie picked up on the first ring, hitting the speakerphone as she put her things away. "Good morning. Thank you for calling The Crime Stoppers Gazette. How can I help you?"

Sandra had heard Annie's well-rehearsed greeting thousands of times, but never had it sounded so good as it did this morning. "Annie, it's Sandra."

"Sandra, what's going on? Since you inherited that mansion, you've dropped off the face of the earth. I know you took vacation time, but —"

"Annie!" Sandra's voice was shrill. "I'm in trouble."

There was a brief pause on the other end. "Oh my God, Sandra! What's wrong?"

"I've been arrested, and I need you to bail me out as soon as possible."

"Arrested? For what?" Annie's concern for her boss was genuine, but her curiosity was too. "Where are you exactly?"

"I'm here in the city. It's a long story, but I had to return to the Judge's office and got arrested for trespassing."

"You went there in the middle of the night? Sandra, what were you thinking?"

"Annie, please, I don't have time to explain. I'm following a hot story, and the clock is ticking. I need you to get me out of here."

As Annie was about to respond, Sandra heard a familiar, gruff voice in the background. "Annie, since when have you been a bail bondman?"

Sandra's heart sank. Her boss, Les Cunningham, had overheard her conversation with Annie, and that was the last thing she wanted.

Seconds later, his whole persona filled the empty room where Sandra sat as he growled into the phone. "This better be good, Sandra. You've left us in quite a jam, taking off so suddenly."

"Sir, I — I took accrued vacation time."

Les took a deep breath and then lowered the hammer. "Oh, correct. Have a good time, and call us back when you're working again."

"Les, don't hang up. Pleeeeaaase!"

"Give me a reason, and it better be a good one," Les smirked, satisfied he had Sandra in the corner he wanted.

She sighed, scrambling to think how much she could tell him. "I'm onto something big. It's a story that could blow everything wide open, but I need to get out of this jail. Will you help me?"

Les's voice was stern, leaving no room for negotiation. "I want in! No bail unless I know what I'm dealing with."

Sandra hesitated for a moment, then decided she had no choice. "Alright, Les. I'm investigating —" Sandra felt her heart pounding. "I got a lead on the missing treasure the Judge Parker stole."

"Treasure's great, but that's old news. It's never been found, and that mansion's been searched too many times to count."

"But this time is different, Les," Sandra smirked, thinking what he'd say if she told him about the ghosts, which she would not do. "Frankie Saladino is involved." She let the carrot dangle.

Les bit. "The underworld mobster?"

Sandra smiled. She hooked him. "Yeah, that's the guy. I came to town to check out the Judge's office and got arrested for trespassing. Can you get me out of here?"

Les was mulling over his options, knowing that Sandra wasn't giving him her whole story. She might think she had him, but only time would tell. "Fine, but I'm keeping a close eye on this. I'll have Annie arrange bail. Don't make me regret this."

"Thank you, Les," Sandra replied, relief washing over her. "I won't let you down."

Les hung up the phone. "Arrange her bail."

"Yes, sir, right away."

"Then come to my office. I've got a few other things to arrange in case this story turns out to be big." Les was already checking off things in his mind — a news van with multiple cameras, microphones, a photographer, laptops, and lots of coffee.

*****

As Sandra stood to leave the room, Michael Sullivan, her nemesis, appeared at the door, eager to see her again, he couldn't get her out of his mind for some unknown reasons. "Hope you enjoyed your overnight accommodations, Miss Monroe."

"It's not the Ritz, but then —" She purposely looked him up and down, scowling. "I suppose it's the best you could do."

Being rude wasn't part of her character, but something about this rookie cop was playing with her emotions. Staying in jail all night hadn't helped either.

Michael laughed. "We try to leave a lasting impression so our guests don't want to return."

"Well, you did a fine job of that." Sandra couldn't hide the smile tweaking at the corner of her mouth. "I'll put in a good word on my check-out card."

"Oh yeah, someone has paid your bail, and you are free to go." He handed her a plastic bag filled with her few belongings. "Try to stay out of trouble." Michael inhaled as she squeezed by him. He flashed her a smile and she returned it with a smirk.

Sandra's mind was racing, wondering how she was going to find Jack and Patrick and get back to the mansion on time as she claimed the bag and stepped into the hall. She barely managed a "thank you" as she spotted the processing desk and hurried toward it.

*****

Back at the mansion, things were heating up on all sides. Billy and Ryan were arranging the switch and bait while deep in the tunnels, Louie had learned his leverage had managed to escape.

Having set up a temporary office at the mouth of the tunnel, Louie leaned back in his chair, lighting a cigar. Terrance and Tony stood at attention, their backs against the limestone wall. "Alright, you two knuckleheads, tell me what happened. How did the broad get out of the water tank?"

Tony glanced at his sidekick before he answered, "You ain't gonna believe this, but it was the ghosts."

Louie's eyebrow shot up on his forehead as he ground his cigar tip into a rock. "Ghosts?" He stood and walked around the makeshift desk, moving closer to the men. Leaning closer, his face inches from theirs, he growled, "That's the best you numbskulls can come up with?"

Terrence's head bobbed vigorously. "It's the truth, boss. You should have been there."

"If I had been there, you two wouldn't have been needed." Louie formed a gun with his finger." Get my drift?"

Terrence's eyes widened, and he clamped his mouth closed. Tony, on the other hand, pressed forward, trying to convince Louie. "We were down in that cellar, trying to keep an eye on the broad. She was screaming and splashing as the tank filled with water. And then — well, the darndest thing — stuff started happening."

Louie nodded as if considering what they were saying. "Stuff started happening. Like what?"

"The lights started flickering, and a chandelier fell from the ceiling, crashing and almost hitting us."

Terrence, his voice trembling, added, "The temperature dropped like we were in a freezer. And I think I saw shadows moving, but no one was there."

Encouraged by Louie's attentive look, Tony jumped in,"Yeah, someone touched me —"

"Me too!"

Louie sneered, "Someone touched both of you. What did they look like — big ole boogie men?"

"No, boss! For real, I felt a hand, but no one was there."

Louie laughed sarcastically. "You expect me to buy that? Ghosts? Come on. You let the stories get under your skin, and you got scared. Admit it!"

"Ya gotta believe us, boss. I even think I saw the eyes move on one of the freakin' pictures on the wall."

Louie slammed his fist against a crate. "Enough! I don't want to hear any more of this nonsense. You let a bunch of amateurs, probably women, use their parlor tricks to get the better of you. There are no such things as ghosts. Now, get out of my face. Go find the broad and maybe a few others while you are at it."

"But boss —"

Louie glared at the two men. "I said — get out!"

Terrence and Tony didn't need to be told twice as they turned and hurried back into the dark tunnel, neither sure which was worse, the ghosts or their boss.

*****

Michael couldn't take his eyes off Sandra as she completed the paperwork and waited for it to be processed. He didn't know why, but he wanted to get to know her better. Her confident demeanor and the way she handled herself intrigued him.

With his morning coffee in hand, Detective Jack O'Reilly left the breakroom and spied his new rookie leaning against the doorway, mesmerized by the woman being processed. Jack chuckled inwardly, recognizing the signs of infatuation all too well.

"I know it was your first arrest," Jack said, walking up to Michael, "but you do have to let it go, boy. From what I can see, she's got a nice swing on that gate, but she's yesterday's news. You'll never see her again."

Michael blinked, momentarily lost in his thoughts about Sandra. "Aren't you curious why she was in the Judge's office?" he asked suddenly, snapping back to reality. "She said he sent her to get you."

Jack raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Now I know you're lovesick. The Judge is dead. How could he have sent her to get me? It's got to be a setup of some kind."

"Maybe," Michael replied, his mind racing with possibilities. "My car's outside. Let's tail her and see where she goes."

Jack nodded, his veteran instincts kicking in. "Alright, but we're just cruising. Don't want her slapping us with a harassment suit."

They hurried out of the precinct, Michael trying to appear casual as he scanned the parking lot for Sandra. Spotting her talking on her phone near a yellow cab, he nudged Jack discreetly. "There she is."

They waited until the cab drove off, then followed it at a safe distance, Jack keeping their target in sight while Michael navigated through the city traffic. As they trailed her, Michael's thoughts raced. What was Sandra's connection to the deceased judge? Was she involved in something more sinister than they realized?

Jack glanced at Michael, noticing the determination etched on his face. "Don't get too caught up, kid," he advised quietly. "Keep your focus on the road."

Michael nodded his adrenaline pumping. He was stepping into unfamiliar territory, driven by a mix of curiosity and a desire to uncover the truth about Sandra and her unexpected visit to the judge's office.

The cab pulled over to the curb, and Sandra got out. Michael's mouth dropped open as he watched her enter the building. "I don't believe it. She's going back to the Judge's office."

"You find a place to park. I'll go inside and see what she's up to." Jack climbed out of the car and hurried inside as the elevator doors closed. He watched as it ascended, stopping on the third floor.

Unwilling to wait for the elevator to return, Jack took the stairs. Now, his curiosity was running rampant. "Okay, little lady, what are you up to?"