Go All Out

2

2

Three days later, just moments before the phones were turned on, a guard pulled Harlow out of her hall. The timing couldn’t have been worse, calling Ryske was the highlight of her day. He’d always pick up within three rings. It gave her a thrill to tease him for being so needy.

It was just a tease though. Harlow was flattered by how open he was about his feelings for her. He didn’t apologize to anyone for them either.

Within days of her being incarcerated, he’d handed over a number for the cellphone he’d bought. Only she had the number, no one else. It was a burner, nothing fancy, but he needed that link to her, and she wasn’t averse to having her own dedicated line to him. For everyone else, he still used the usual Maze-created answering service.

The guard led her down the sterile grey corridor to one of the private interview rooms; somewhere she’d only been once during her time in this location. He opened the door and stepped back to let her go inside.

Her lawyer was seated at the central table. Harlow paused, unsure whether to feel dread or relief. The visit was unexpected, which could spell bad news… Good news was unlikely; there wasn’t much of that to be had. During the fight to get her moved, the two of them had seen each other often. Usually there was a call first. It was unlike Greta just to show up.

Greta Mann was a good lawyer. For the most part, she was thorough and personable. Though Harlow didn’t know how well the woman would stand up in court during a trial that was stacked against her. Defending a client who refused to provide any information posed many challenges. Her record was good, but Harlow valued killer instinct more. Given the lack of reasonable doubt, the only way they’d catch a break was if they played it dirty.

“Harlow,” Greta said, standing up and gesturing to the chair opposite her.

There was nowhere else to sit and the chair was fixed to the ground, so Harlow didn’t really have a choice about where to park her butt. Since being arrested, she’d noticed there were a lot of pleasantries put on for show or to alleviate awkward moments. Pleasantries that were actually obligations, not suggestions.

“What’s going on?” she asked, walking to the chair and lowering herself into it.

“Something happened,” Greta said.

Obviously, or else the lawyer wouldn’t be there. Harlow’s concern spiked. Her father and Rupert were supposed to be visiting that afternoon. She didn’t know what she’d do if Greta told her something had happened to either of them.

“What? What happened?”

“It’s… We went to court this morning. I called for an emergency session and submitted a motion to dismiss. Two days ago, there was a robbery. An evidence locker was ransacked, they think it was kids; there was a lot of graffiti and criminal damage. One officer was seriously injured. Evidence in a few cases was taken or destroyed. Chain of custody is going to be questionable in all of them now. We didn’t know for sure at first, but one of the cases with missing evidence was yours.”

This was a lot to take in. Greta was good at relaying information; Harlow was just struggling to keep up. “What does that mean?” she asked because she had to be sure.

Greta smiled. “I think the whole case against you will be thrown out. Without a witness or a confession, they have no evidence without the video or the blood…” Her smile widened. “Your silence has helped us. They don’t even have a statement from you placing you at the scene.”

“So, wait…” she said. “They’re throwing the case out?”

“No,” Greta said, losing her smile. “Because of the break-in, there are a dozen cases that need to be reviewed as a matter of urgency. It’s all very embarrassing; they want to keep it as quiet as possible. The judge is going to hear petitions on each case individually after the DA reviews them. He’s been given six weeks to decide which cases he wants to pursue. He’ll have to persuade the judge there’s compelling enough evidence for conviction. Pending the review, the judge has agreed to release you on an ankle monitor. You’ll have to stay at your parents and only leave there for court. But, providing no other evidence surfaces, I have complete faith that the judge will grant my motion to dismiss.”

Harlow didn’t know what to… how to… this was unbelievable. “You’re saying… I can be free?”

“They’ll release you today, right now,” Greta said, standing up. “I’m going to be with you while it’s all worked out. They’re getting the papers now. You’ll be transported to your parents’ home and fitted with an ankle monitor.”

Harlow couldn’t even begin to absorb the news. Her sentence had just dropped from twenty years to twenty minutes. For the time being at least. The first person she thought of was Ryske.

“Wait, who knows about this?”

Greta smiled. “I haven’t called Ryske. Only your parents… I don’t think the DA will be spreading this around.” Neither would her parents. A potential felon in their house? What a scandal! “The DA’s office might have notified the victim’s next of kin.”

This was unbelievable. There were moments of serendipity in life, but this was almost too much to comprehend. Even if she ended up being convicted, this interim reprieve was a gift. Just being granted a short time away from this place, breathing clean air again, was something many inmates wouldn’t experience.

Being in a stupor over how it had come about didn’t mean she’d snub the opportunity.

She was going home.

Getting out of jail was a blur. Harlow wasn’t allowed much time to grab her stuff and tell the girls she’d been switched to house arrest. They had a dozen questions that she couldn’t answer; they were questions she had too.

Her release involved a lot of paperwork and shuffling from here to there. All the time, she kept thinking about how this had come about. At her request, Greta agreed not to call Ryske. Harlow wanted to tell him herself. Letting him know she was free would be fun. The interrogation after wouldn’t be. Especially given that Harlow had no idea how they’d struck it lucky.

Regardless of the confusion, he’d be over the moon. Thrilled that she wasn’t in jail anymore and that he’d been right.

The only downside to her freedom was the awkward dilemma it posed. Harlow had promised Ryske that if she got out, she’d tell him everything. They both wanted her out of jail. Only one of them wanted to talk about how she’d ended up there in the first place.

Staying at her parents might be tricky. Until she started to recognize the streets they were driving through, Harlow hadn’t given that situation a lot of consideration. Only when landmarks became familiar did it hit her that this was real. Ryske wouldn’t be the only one with questions… her family would have them too. They knew even less than her lover.

Freedom wasn’t as simple as getting out of the police car and returning to life as she knew it. Her life would never be what it had been.

Her childhood bedroom had been a sanctuary for her during her period of mourning, and a base for her and Ryske to make love in after his resurrection. But her parents still didn’t know anything about what her life had been in the city.

As far as she knew, they didn’t know about the money Rupert had given her either. They certainly didn’t know about her relationship with Ryske, or even that he was connected to her beyond their phony introduction at the Sweeting dinner table.

The Floyd’s crew and her parents had never overlapped. Her bail hearing had happened before her parents even knew she’d been arrested. Only after bail had been refused did Harlow decide to tell them where she was, and boy had that been a call.

On Harlow’s instruction, Greta hadn’t notified anyone of hearing dates, neither her family nor her crew. Even she didn’t have to be there for all of them, most were procedural. She hadn’t gotten as far as thinking about what she’d do when the trial rolled around.

Just being out of jail was strange. The sight of people going about their benign lives kept pulling her attention away from her concerns. For her transport between jails, she’d been in a van that provided no view of the outside world. This time, in a police car, she got a glimpse of the world again, and how oblivious people were to the dangers around them every minute.

Eventually, the police car pulled into her parents’ driveway. No one came out from inside while the officer took her from the car and escorted her into the building. Her mother and sister, Lena, were in the living room waiting. Both of them seemed nervous, but Lena did a worse job of hiding it.

The officer was explaining the terms of her release to a rather blank-faced Jean Sweeting when Harlow’s father, Brysen, came in with Rupert. The men had gone to the jail to visit her. With all the activity, it hadn’t occurred to her, or Greta, to call them. On their arrival at the jail, they’d been told that she’d already been released to house arrest.

Her father knew about the agreement; he’d had to approve it after Greta was in court. But he hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly. From his tone, Harlow couldn’t tell if he meant she wasn’t welcome, or just that no one was ready for her to be there.

Her ankle monitor was fitted and she was given care instructions. With it on, she could shower, but had to avoid submerging the device. She had to stay inside her parents’ property line, but could go into the yard or onto the driveway.

In contrast to the rules and procedures in jail, these new ones would be a breeze. The officers left in a flurry of activity, and then suddenly, they were alone in her parents’ front room.

“Well,” Rupert said, trying to break the tension of the awkward silence. “How does it feel to be free?”

“Surreal.” Harlow touched her hair. “I need to shower and change my clothes. Maybe after that I’ll feel normal again…” Though she doubted it. “This still feels like a dream I might wake up from.”

“That’s understandable,” Rupert said, moving aside when she stood up.

Everyone seemed to be giving her a wide berth. Especially her sister who darted away from the doorway when Harlow started toward it.

“Did you do it?” Lena called out, making Harlow stop. “Did you really kill that guy?”

Harlow knew they had questions, everybody did. There was an irony in sweet, innocent Lena being the first person to ask such an important one. Her little sister would be the last person she’d burden with details of the night Hagan lost his life.

“Lena,” their mother whispered.

“Uh,” Harlow said, trying to smile as she turned to face the room. “I’m going to make a couple of quick calls first. Excuse me.”

Quick call was right. She ran up the stairs and grabbed the handset from her nightstand to dial as fast as possible. Ryske would’ve been expecting a call from her hours ago. She just hoped he hadn’t called the jail in a panic.

The number that flashed up on his cellphone would be unknown to him, which meant he might not answer. She was still worrying about being diverted when the ringing in her ear stopped.

“Who is this?” Ryske snapped down the line.

Relief, he’d answered. Though he wasn’t in a great mood. Either he was worried that someone had got the number from her under duress or that some telemarketers were angling to con him. Good luck to anyone who tried that.

Her mouth opened, but she didn’t know what to say. After a few seconds of nothing, a sly smile curled her lips. “A very horny, very naughty girl.”

Silence came before he groaned. “You feeling frisky, baby? In a new pod?”

Kicking off her shoes, she pushed herself to the middle of her bed. “I’m sitting in the spot where we first made love.”

An exhale of disbelief and relief reverberated to her ear. “House arrest?”

“That’s right,” she said, finding it peculiar that he’d come to that conclusion so fast. “How did you—”

“I’m on my way, Trinket. Don’t go anywhere.”

She couldn’t go anywhere even if she wanted to. The line went dead before she could ask any more questions.

Shaking herself from her daze, Harlow decided to call Ryske on his quick thinking when he arrived, which shouldn’t take too long.

Clyde got a call next. It took some hard work to get him off the line. Her friend was persistent in his questioning about how she’d ended up at her parents’ home. More persistent than Ryske, who she’d expected would want to know everything. Except, he’d had no questions. It seemed like her love had expected it. Like he’d anticipated it.

How had he anticipated it?