Reckless Disregard

Chapter One-3

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Drug bust. They should have known. They both shouldhave known, knowing Lyle McCall as well as they did. Inside the police station,the despairing young women were cold, but safe. Locked behind bars they almostbelieved themselves criminals, too. Sitting at opposite ends of a metal cot,they didn’t talk much. Too much shock, too many men eyeing Alecia’s bare ass,then looking at Bridget as though she were the next w***e ready to be fucked.Shell-shocked would be too tame a word to describe their mood. Numb was moreappropriate. But better to be numb than to think—or imagine—or simply visualizethe expressions on their husband’s faces when they finally appeared to takethem home. When Bridgetheard a key in the cell lock, she jumped. “Mrs. Fox?” “Sir?” “Yourhusband’s here.” Bridgetjumped to her feet. “What aboutme?” Alecia came alive from her misery. “We’ll getto you, too, ma’am. Soon as we know what charges are being filed.” “Charges!” The officersaid no more, and pulling Bridget from the cell, he led her into an emptyinterrogation room with four bare walls and a bare light fixture that hung overa square metal table. Though she hadn’t seen her husband in the corridor, it wasn’tbut seconds before Geoff joined her in the wretched room. “Was the cash yours?” were Geoff’s first words. “Cash?” “Don’t lie,Bridget.” The lethal sound of his voice shook everything in her except her eyeswhich froze shut. She squinted her nose, a nastily pained grimace turning herpretty face into something monstrous for just a moment. Though she was stillwearing her teal green business suit, she’d pulled her hair apart in the squadcar when her head started to ache as though someone were pulling every whichway on the braid. Now her blonde locks fell all around her shoulders involuminous wavy curls, taking at least ten years off her appearance; she lookedlike a dressed up kid. “Open youreyes, Bridget,” her husband’s voice cut through her fear. “You have a hell of alot to answer for, and you’re not going to act like a scaredrabbit.” Her eyes popped open, immediately resting on Geoff’s implacable face.He wasn’t pacing anymore, but sat sideways in a chair at the end of the table,his hands just inches from her firmly folded ones resting on the metal beforeher. “I’m notgoing to be arrested, am I?” “Anyoneread you your rights?” “No.” “Well then,you have your answer. You don’t have anything to worry about from the cops,though I can’t say you’ll fare as well with me.” She thoughthis eyes would shoot lasers into the center of her skull and blow it wideapart. The strange picture made her want to close him out. “Now aboutthe cash.” “It wasmine. A loan to Alecia.” “You’retelling me Alecia’s in debt to Lyle McCall?” “Yes, butshe has the money to pay him back as soon as she gets paid for a couple ofpaintings she sold.” Defending Alecia was pointless, but it was the onlyexplanation she had. Geoff fumedin the face of his wife’s sorry explanations; there weren’t enough words in theEnglish language to get her out of this mess. “What did I tell you aboutspending time with her, Bridget?” “I know,I’m sorry. I really am. It was so simple…” “It was notsimple!” he barked. Leaning over the table, he looked her straight in the eye.“Lyle McCall is no more reformed than you are, but he’s a whole lot moredangerous. Scares the s**t out of me, the two of you walking into thatwarehouse.” He pushed off his chair and paced the floor again. “He wasbusted?” Her voice was so tiny, it might just disappear. “Fiftypounds of cocaine in his backroom—what a total i***t you are!” he whippedaround and caught her glance again. It had beenmonths since she’d seen Geoff this angry, and that anger was frightening. Forthree years, she’d worked hard to keep the relationship, and now she seemed tobe holding on by a thread. “I’msorry.” He stoppedjust to stare at her small and withering form. “I know you are,” he confessedwith a weary sigh. “What areyou going to do?” “Take youhome and put you in bed.” “You’re notgoing to spank me?” “Not, yet.I’m too pissed. But when I do…” He didn’t finish, as though it was just toomuch to consider in the middle of a painful moment. “Alecia,she’s not been arrested, has she?” Helaughed—a sort of sarcastic snort. “No darlin’, it’s usually prostitutes withthe money in their pockets, not the johns.” “She not awhore, Geoff! “I knowthat. Then, too, it was mighty interesting that there was no sign she wasgetting f****d against her will.” “They usedto be lovers,” she reminded him. Geoffwasn’t really listening anymore. “You know, love, that’s Charlie’s problem andI’m glad it is,” he interjected before she could say more. “You’re mine. Andit’s time to get you home.”