Chapter 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?”
“Yes,” I said with exasperation. “Doesn’t that seem awfully convenient to you? Besides, the witness saw someone with dark hair from the top of floor of an apartment building across the street. There was no way they could ID me as that person, and the reason for that is because I didn’t fucking do it!”
“Look,” she said, putting her hands in her lap. “Just confess. Tell us everything, and we will ask the prosecutor for leniency. You understand that when we take you to court, the district attorney is going to seek the maximum sentence if you don’t cooperate. You’ll spend the rest of your life behind bars, and sweetheart, those girls are a lot tougher than your victim. You won’t last long in there at all.”
I crossed my arms and looked away, growing tired of being called a murderer. I knew how the evidence looked, but I didn’t do it. I wasn’t going to confess to a crime that I didn’t commit. I knew the deal was that I take the fall for this murder. I knew that when Paulie and Harry got wind that I was refusing to claim that I was guilty, they would probably go after my father if they hadn’t already done so, but this was serious. I had given my life to my father for the last twenty years, and I didn’t want to spend the rest of it behind bars because he couldn’t get his shit together. I could tell the detectives about Paulie and Harry, but then what? They would research it, find them, and those gangster assholes would refuse to admit it. Then they would kill my father anyway. I was pretty much stuck between a rock and a hard place.
“Fine,” she said, slamming her hands on the table and startling me from my thoughts. “We’ll do it your way. I hope you understand that when we go into that courtroom, we are going for the win. We’ll make sure you spend the rest of your life behind bars.”
The detective grabbed the bags and looked at me one last time before walking out of the interrogation room. She slammed the door behind her, and I jumped, still completely terrified of every sound. All I could do at that point was stay silent, no matter who came into the room. I had said my piece and didn’t want to say the wrong thing and have it twisted in court. I was innocent, and I was being set up by the mob. It was like a bad cop drama, only I was the innocent one, and the cops were doing everything they could to pin it on me, just like Harry and Paulie. I just wished it would all go away, like a bad dream.
Several hours later, and a dozen detectives later, one of the cops came in and grabbed me by the arm, lifting me from the chair and escorting me back to the holding cells. He took off my cuffs and shoved me into the empty room. I rubbed my wrists and looked over my shoulder, waiting for him to leave. I walked over to my bed and curled up in a ball, wrapping my arms around my body. It was so cold in there, and the orange jumpsuit they had put me in was thin. Tears began to pour out of my eyes as I laid there, shivering, and I muffled the sound of my sobs so I didn’t alert the other inmates. They had already ruthlessly teased me like I was fresh bait when I walked in. Then, as if it were a dream itself, my tears went silent, and I heard a familiar voice. I sat up quickly and looked around, my eyes falling on Blaine, standing at my cell with a sad face.
“Blaine,” I cried out, running to the bars and sticking my hands through for him to hold.
I pressed my forehead against the metal and could feel his skin touching mine. It was exactly what I needed at that moment, and for a second, I felt a little bit stronger. We stood there for several moments, just taking in each other’s presence. I had been so scared and so lonely, and I didn’t know where he was or how to contact him.
“Sorry, it took so long to get back here,” he said, pulling his head back. “I had to push my way through the ranks to even get this small amount of time.”
“I thought attorneys could do that,” I replied.
“Not unless you tell them you want to see your lawyer,” he replied. “They will keep me away as long as the law allows. They know once you lawyer up, they have lost their edge. It’s harder to bully someone when they have a lawyer letting them know what they can and can’t say.”
“But I didn’t do it,” I said. “There were these—”
“Shh,” he said, looking around. “Not here. We are not alone here, and anything that is said can be used against you. Besides, if what I gathered is what happened, you can’t trust the other inmates in this place.”
“What do I do?” I asked.
“Stay quiet, and the next cop you come across, tell them you want to see your lawyer,” he instructed. “That way, the next time we see each other, it will be private, and we can go over everything. Until then, you can’t say anything, not a word, no matter what they threaten you with.”
“They are ruthless,” I said, looking down at the floor.
“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure from the way they are acting, this is pretty serious,” he said.
“I know,” I said, too afraid to tell him the charges. “I just want to get out of here and be somewhere safe. Be with you.”
Everything was such a mess, and from the outside, I understood that it looked like I was one hundred percent guilty, no questions asked. I wanted to be there when he had the charges explained to him so I could tell him what really happened, but that would mean getting out of jail, and they weren’t letting me go anywhere, anytime soon. I knew that all of this might have been too much for Blaine to take, and I would understand if he took off and washed his hands of the whole thing. We may love each other, but sometimes, outside events are stronger than love. Sometimes, even love can’t hold up against murder charges. I wouldn’t blame him, though. I wasn’t even sure what I would do if the roles were reversed. There was no way he could totally believe me, without questioning it in some way.
Blaine leaned his head forward and slid his hands up to grasp my face. He kissed me gently through the bars. The buzzer to the outside door went off, and a guard walked in. Blaine looked over at him and nodded, grasping my hands even tighter. He looked me in the eyes like he always did, and I didn’t see a tiny pinch of doubt in his gaze. He leaned forward and kissed me again, and I could tell our time was up.
“I want you to stay strong,” he said. “Let them know you want to see me so I can start being allowed regular visits, and we can get this all straightened out. In the meantime, I’m putting together a team of the best lawyers in the state, and we are going to find a way to prove your innocence. Whoever is doing this will not get away with it forever. I promise. There are always holes in every story, and I’m going to find theirs.”
“Okay,” I said, sniffling and walking along the cage as he walked toward the door.
“I’m going to get these ridiculous charges dropped if it’s the last thing I do,” he said. “Just hang in there, okay? And Josie? I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I said, walking along.
“You’ll see it’s all worth it when you are free and we sue the hell out of the city for putting you through this.”
I shook my head and grasped onto the bars as he was escorted from the area. The door slammed behind him, and I jumped, closing my eyes and letting the tears fall down my cheeks. I walked back over to the bed and opened up the gray, scratchy blanket. I pulled the hood of my jumpsuit over my head and laid down on the thin mattress. I pulled the blanket over my body and huddled underneath, thankful that it was at least warm. I stared at the cinder block wall, only glancing up when a guard would enter or exit the area outside the cells. I could smell the cold steel of the bars and the not so clean toilet against the wall. I turned my body over and faced the wall, not wanting anyone to see me crying. I pulled the rubber band from my hair and let my locks fall to my shoulders, covering my neck and helping me to stay warm.
I wanted to crawl into a ball and never come out. I was absolutely terrified in that place, and it got even worse when the women in other cells would start acting crazy. I knew they were bored, but I was the target of the moment, being the newest one in there and the most fragile. Those girls saw right through me, and I even heard them whispering that there was no way I could have killed anyone. I wished the police would open their eyes and see it that way, too. But they weren’t going to, and I needed to come to terms with the fact that there was a really good chance I would be spending a lot more time behind bars. I needed to start getting comfortable with the steel bars and cold floors.