Josie had just called me, telling me she was attacked, but for some reason, the police were arresting her. Nothing was making sense, but I knew I had to get to her as fast as I possibly could. As I drove along, the houses passed by me in a blur, and the realization that my girlfriend was going into police custody hit me hard. She was the sweetest and kindest person I knew. There was no way she’d committed any crime that would warrant the police bursting into the house and arresting her like that. I couldn’t even imagine how terrified Josie was at that moment.
When I got to the house, I parked down the block, allowing space from the police. The entire area was already taped off, and it was crawling with cops. It looked like a murder scene, only there was no body and no criminal. I pushed through the crowd and up to the tape, reaching down to lift it and go under. A police officer stepped forward and put his hand up.
“I’m sorry sir, you can’t go past the tape,” he said in a deep voice.
“I’m the family lawyer,” I argued.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he said. “This is a police crime scene now. No one is allowed past the tape.”
A crime scene? My mind began to swirl. Immediately, I was terrified that something had happened to Josie. I scanned the area, looking everywhere for her, but she wasn’t standing outside. I had been on the phone with her when the cops arrived, so unless one of them killed her, she had to be inside with the police. I nodded at the cop and moved back, walking toward the front of the sectioned off area. There were several officers standing around the trashcans, and one of the officers held what looked to be a large knife that I had never seen before. There was dried blood on the blade, and they were obviously logging it into evidence. What did a butcher knife in a trash can and two obvious mobsters have to do with Josie, or her dad for that matter?
I stood there for several moments before two police offers walked out of the door, followed by Josie with her hands handcuffed behind her back. One of the other cops had a firm grip on her arm and was leading her toward his squad car. I didn’t know what to do, but I wanted Josie to know that I was there. I reached my hand up in the air and began to wave it.
“Hey,” I shouted. “Josie!”
Josie looked across the crowd, her face landing on mine. Immediately, her eyes popped open, and she looked at the cop leading her to the police car for transport. I slapped my hands down to the side and let out a deep breath, frustration setting in. I watched as Josie approached the car, still looking over into the crowd for me.
“Hey, let me in,” I shouted to the cops. “I am her lawyer. Let me in the car with her, please.”
Every single cop turned their backs toward me, completely ignoring my request. I grunted angrily and turned, running back to my car and hopping in. As soon as I pulled up toward the house, the cop car carrying Josie sped off for the precinct. I followed closely behind, looking up at Josie as she turned and peered out of the window. Her face was incredibly calm, and I could tell whatever was going on, she knew she had to keep her emotions in check and follow along as much as possible.
When I pulled into the precinct parking lot, I watched the cop car pull around back to unload Josie into the holding cells. I walked into the front and told the clerk my client had just been brought in, and I needed a chance to speak with her. The woman looked at me like I was nuts and then told me that she needed to be processed first. She looked over my shoulder at the waiting area and nodded her head in that direction. I had no choice but to sit and wait, knowing that I would get the ability to talk to her soon. When she was done with processing, they led her back to the interrogation room, and I stayed put in the lobby, waiting for my turn.
The woman at the front desk nodded her head at me, and I walked over, smiling charmingly. She looked behind me and around the room, making sure that no one was listening. She leaned over the desk and began to whisper.
“She is done with processing, and now, they are going to ask a ton of questions,” she said. “This young lady has to invoke her right to an attorney before you can go back there. I’m sorry. There is nothing I can do about that.”
“She doesn’t even know anything about that rule,” I said with frustration. “You might as well wait for her to admit to being the tooth fairy.”
“I know,” she said. “Hopefully, she’s watched Law and Order and can pick up some cues from that.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I exclaimed. “This is total bullshit. “
“As soon as I hear anything, I’ll let you know,” she said with a sympathetic tone.
I nodded my head and smiled, grateful that at least one person in the precinct actually gave a shit about Josie. I didn’t know what made them think that she was a criminal, but I had to get her out of there. I walked back into the lobby and waited, pacing the floor as I ticked through the things in my mind. I had so many emotions flooding through my mind, from anger to sadness, to fear, and then to a gut-wrenching feeling of hopelessness. There was nothing worse than watching someone you loved get taken into a situation like this, unable to understand her rights, and put to the test by the hard-ass cops. I could already see Josie now, sitting in the interrogation room with tears flowing down her cheeks.
I took a deep breath and sat down in one of the chairs in the waiting area, starting to understand that it was going to be a long day if I didn’t do something about this. But
what? I didn’t have any rights, just because I was an attorney. I really wished my father was there at that moment. He would have kicked the door in, picked up Josie, and marched out of the station, enraged at how they were treating her with no real support or representation. As a lawyer, I knew what they could do in an interrogation room, but all I could do was wait and hope that my arms would be wrapped around Josie’s body soon.
18
Josie
“How do you know, Eliza Barber, Ms. Gray?”
The police were interrogating me, and they had been for many hours. I was exhausted, and the only thing they offered me was a cup of coffee. Everyone looked at me so angrily, as if they were positive that I was a cold-blooded killer. I was terrified of every person that came into the room. It was like a crime drama show. There were people pretending to be nice, people pretending to be assholes, and others that just asked direct questions, wrote something down, and left.
I had no clue what was going on, but I didn’t want to incriminate myself, so I just denied every allegation they threw at me. In reality, I wasn’t lying. I really had no idea what these detectives were talking about. They threw pictures of a dead woman in front of me, witness testimony of seeing a girl that fit my description, and told me that they had evidence that I was the murderer.
I shook my head when I first heard that. There was no way they could have evidence on me. Obviously, I hadn’t killed anyone. Well, it was obvious to me, not so much to the cops who kept grilling me. After I denied any connection to the murder, the female detective left the room and then came back carrying two plastic evidence bags in her hand. She tossed them down on the table in front of me and looked at my face. One bag held a large knife, and the other one contained a bloody, ripped up shirt. I shook my head and looked at her confused.
“We found that knife, the murder weapon, wrapped in that shirt, the victim’s shirt, in your trash can,” she said.
“That’s impossible,” I said, shaking my head. “I didn’t know that woman. I didn’t kill anyone. I don’t know how that got there, but I didn’t kill anyone.”
“Come on, Josie,” the woman said, sitting down in the chair across from me. “Your only alibi witness is your father, and he’s nowhere to be found. There is testimony from other eyewitnesses placing you, or someone that looks like you, at the scene of the crime. We found the murder weapon wrapped in the victim’s shirt in your trash can. Do you really expect us to believe that you’re innocent?”