“What’s he charged with?” Sara asked, again trying to put herself between the cops and R.J.
“He killed John Nezbit’s dog. Malicious homicide.”
“What?!” Sara and R.J. shouted in unison.
A cop grabbed R.J.’s arm and started pulling him toward the courthouse door.
“You can’t do this!” Sara shouted. “That dog was dead when we saw it.”
“That’s not what Mr. Nezbit says. He says he saw you swerve onto the sidewalk just so you could hit his dog.”
“Sir!” David said to the policeman, and Sara was glad to see him. Even though R.J. ran a big corporation, he had a look about him of a street fighter. David was clean-cut personified. If anyone would be listened to, he would be. “Mr. Brompton saw the dog lying in the street and swerved onto the sidewalk to miss it. The dog was already dead—and had been for a long time. We moved it to the side of the street.”
“That’s not what Mr. Nezbit said,” the policeman shot back, his fingers digging into R.J.’s arm. “He said you hit the dog so hard that your car went one way and the dog went the other. He said the four of you got out and laughed about it.”
This was so absurd that all three of them— Ariel was still in the car—were stunned into momentary silence.
“That’s not true,” Sara gasped.
“Tell it to the judge,” the policeman said, then pulled R.J. toward the courthouse.
“Sara, call my lawyer,” R.J. shouted over his shoulder as they pulled him toward the door.
Relieved that the short-lived masquerade was over, Sara pulled off the wig and ran to the car to get her cellphone.
“At least this got you to stop lying to me,” R.J. called as he disappeared into the courthouse. He was trying to inject some humor into the horrible situation.
Chapter Six
NO SIGNAL.
Sara tossed the useless cellphone into the car and looked at David. Ariel was cringing in the backseat, saying nothing.
David turned to Sara and said, “Get in the car with Ariel and go back to the ferry. If the ferry isn’t there, hire a boat. If you have to swim back to the mainland, do so, but I want the two of you off this island immediately.”
Sara took a breath. “I’m sure that what you’re saying would have sounded good in a 1950s Western, but this is the twenty-first century. You and Ariel go back. I’m going to get R.J. out of there.” She started toward the courthouse, but David grabbed her arm.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To find a telephone,” she said, shaking off his grasp. “This seems to be the only building that has people in it, so I’m going in there to use their telephone.”
“I’m sure this is all a mistake,” David said. “Someone else must have seen us with that dog. In all those huge houses, there must have been someone who saw us.”
Sara started to say something as she put her hand on the big brass door handle, but Ariel stopped her.
“Don’t leave me alone,” Ariel whispered. Her face was white with terror.
David put his arm around her shoulders. “Let me do the talking,” he said to Sara as he opened the courthouse door. When she started to protest, he said, “This isn’t about women’s rights, this is just logic. Sara, you sound like a Yankee, and, Ariel, you’re scared out of your mind, so who knows what you’d say? By default, that leaves me.”
“I hope they don’t throw me in jail because of my accent,” Sara muttered. She thought she was being sarcastic, saying something that couldn’t possibly happen.
But, in the end, that’s just what did happen. The chief of the King’s Isle police department put all four of them in jail. There were two cells that shared a wall of iron bars. Ariel and Sara were in one, David and R.J. in the other.
As soon as he saw them, R.J. looked at Sara and said, “What the hell have you done?!” It was a whisper that was a shout.
David, his hands manacled behind him, gave Sara a look over his shoulder that was intended to singe her hair.
Ariel and she weren’t handcuffed and Sara knew that was because of Ariel’s gracious manners. Even when she was being arrested, Ariel said “please” and “thank you” and never raised her voice.