Jump The Line (Toein' The Line Book 1) (44 page)

“
Her
e’
s what you do, baby girl.  Do exactly as I
say
,”
she orders, her gravelly voice sharp.
 “
I know Robin ai
n’
t no murderer, but if h
e’
s going to be charged with murder, the State of Ohio will do it
.
”

Or Kentucky.  Or both.

“
So the
y’
ll have to give him a free mouthpiece
,”
she says, sounding defeated by this fact, but like every poor person I know a public defender is our only hope for Robi
n’
s defense. 

I groan, knowing what this means.  My brother is going to die from lethal injection.
 “
This is all Aidan Hawk
s
’ fault
.
”

“
Wha
t’
d you say
?
”

“
Nothing, Mom.  Do you know the Hamilton County prosecutor
?
”

“
Do I know him?  Huh-huh.  H
e’
s only the biggest rattler in six counties
.
”

“
You do
n’
t know him . . . not
that
way?  I hope
?
”

She laughs.
 “
Naw, Crip . . . uh,
I’
m sorry.  Laney,
I’
m sorry.  That slipped.  Mind me now: I wo
n’
t call you that again.  I never shoul
d’
ve started, but you was cute as a button, even with your messed up ankl
e
—”

“
Mom
!
”

“
Sorry.  Okay, now listen up, baby girl.  That prosecuto
r’
s mean.  So mean h
e’
s out of my league
.
” 

I chide myself.  My
mom
, the only woman on earth wh
o’
s been made by more cops and lawyers than Al Capone.  As Stoke would say,
Yeah?  So. 
I have no right to judge her. 

“I’
ll see who I can find to defend Robin
,”
I say, frustrated, wondering if Robin stashed his damn overnight bag in my living room
. 
I ca
n’
t find it,
I’
ve got a Newport cop
I’
m falling for who think
s—
know
s
—
my family is criminal trash, so what else could possibly go wrong? 

I should not ask.  Never freaki
n
’
ever
should I ask.

Chapter 39

“
Miss Colby, what are you doing here
?
”
 
She charges toward me.

I brake.
 “
Uh, I live here
?
”

Officer Barbie and I size each other up.  Or since
I’
m inches shorter,
I’
m the one being sized up.  Sh
e’
s staring down at me like
I’
m a toad hopping across her path. 

“
Mom,
I’
ll call you back
,”
I say, my gaze glued to the tall, blonde LEO.

“
Is that a cop?  Do
n’
t talk to the cops
,”
she says.
 “
Do
n’
t say one damn word
.
” 

“
Uh-huh
,”
I say.  She has no clue who just stepped into my bedroom, although
I’
m happy she now knows who stepped out of it earlier this morning. 
I’
m tired of hiding who I am from my mom.  Not that being the only Colby who wants to graduate college and be on the right side of the law matters anymore. 
I’
ll never see Aidan again, unless i
t’
s to visit Robin in lockup.

“I’
m sorry I have
n’
t been here for you, Laney
.
”

Berta Colby saying sh
e’
s sorry is like me saying
I’
m going line dancing.  I
t’
s a difficult statement for her to make, but she just did.  Hearing those words melts my tattered heart.

“
I
t’
s okay, Mom
.
”

“
I love you, baby girl
.
”

“
Uh-huh
.
”

Officer Barbi
e’
s listening to my every word.  I ca
n’
t say much, but I think it. 

I love you, too, Mom.

Right before I cut her off, she says
,“
Listen, I do
n’
t want to wait another four years for your phone call.  You need me now. 
I’
m coming to help you out of this mess, Laney
.
”

“
No, mom, please.  I can handle this
.
”

“
You ca
n’
t.  Yo
u’
re dealing with pit vipers, baby girl
.
”

Like I do
n’
t know that?
 

I cast a sideways glance at Officer Barbie.
 “
Mom,
I’
ll be fine
.
”

“
You do
n’
t know what yo
u’
re talking about, Laney
.
”

That remark sets my teeth on edge.  Or maybe i
t’
s just my Colby genetics making me argue with my mom as I stand facing Officer Barbie.  No matter.  Berta Colby, denied the chance to prove a point, is a more formidable threat than Officer Barbie, who stands facing me.
 “
Mom, seriously, yo
u’
re sick.  Let me handle this
.
”

“
You hold on and do
n’
t talk to no damn cops.  Mam
a’
s coming for a little visit
.
”

I hear a final hacking cough and then silence.  Sh
e’
s hung up.  Was I stupid enough to imagine sh
e’
d let me be right just once?  Sh
e’
s coming to visit.  Wel
l—
hellfire.
  Is
n’
t that sweet? 
I’
m being kicked out of my apartment, and I do
n’
t have a place for my mom to stay.  All this time
I’
ve judged her for living in her ratty trailer in Goshen.  At least, i
t’
s paid for.  At least, i
t’
s home.  I can run there if I gotta, and i
t’
s looki
n
’ like I might.

But worrying about my mom visiting, and having no place to put her up since
I’
m being evicted, is the least of my problems. 

“
You need to leave now
,”
Officer Barbie says.
 “
This is a crime scene
.
”

“
Yeah, I know
.
”

Officer Barbie and I are working our stand-off in my bedroom.  Actually,
I’
m doing all the work.  She looks pretty comfortable with her hand tucked against the ominous looking snap on her black leather hip holster. 

“
Last time I looked this was my place
,”
I say, expecting her to say
,“
Yo
u’
re under arrest
.
”

“
Wha
t’
s that
?”
she asks instead, glancing toward the floor.

I follow her gaze.
 “
Looks like a ma
n’
s windbreaker
.
”

I
t’
s navy blue and go
t“
Newport Polic
e”
across the back in huge white letters.  Standard cop issue, i
t’
s crumpled on the floor by my bed, where Aidan left it last night.  After we finished in the hallway, we made our way in here, started over, and then finally crashed on my bed.  Officer Barbie has no way of knowing i
t’
s Aida
n’
s windbreaker, but since sh
e’
s forcing me to leave my apartment, I decide to give her something to remember me by.

“
Detective Hawks must have forgotten to put it back on last night
,”
I say, kicking it toward her.
 “
He was in a bit of a hurry.  Why do
n’
t you return it to him with my compliments
?
”

Her pink lips work, but nothing comes out.  Sh
e’
s one of those blondes whose creamy skin can hide a blush, but not her livid red scowl.  Ther
e’
s
murder
in her glare.  Sh
e’
s got it bad for Aidan, I can tell, so our developing windbreaker squabble is bound to be pissing her off good. 

“
It will be my pleasure
,”
she says, leaning down and grabbing the windbreaker. 

When she straightens,
I’
m expecting her to throw it over my head and smother me with it.  A nasty smile tightens her lips.  I shoot her one right back. 

“
I
t’
s already been
my
pleasure
,”
I snark
,“
so help yourself to him
.
” 

Pushing past her, I grab my backpack from the floor in the entry hall and prepare to bolt. 

“
Halt
!”
she barks and marches from my bedroom.
 “
Do you know how that gir
l’
s shoulder got put in your fridge
?
”

Ther
e’
s a girls shoulder in my fridge?

Chills raking my spine like claws, I drop my backpack and turn back to her, and then I make the mistake no self-respecting Colby would make: I forget Bert
a’
s advice about never talking to cops. 

“
What . . . gir
l’
s shoulder
?”
I squeak, stunned and reeling. 

“
You mean you have
n’
t peeked in your freezer lately
?”
she asks, her voice dripping sarcasm.  She either thinks
I’
m the stupid scum sh
e’
s used to dealing with, or she hates me because
I’
ve slept with Aidan, or both.  But sh
e’
s a LEO, and sh
e’
s just handed me a problem
I’
d never anticipated, one I ca
n’
t wiggle out of. 
I’
ve got no choice but to cooperate.

“
I-I looked in my freezer last night.  All I saw was mint chocolate-chip ice cream
.
”

“
Which you shared with your brother, Robin
?
”

“
Well, no
,”
I stutter, taken off guard.
 “
I did
n’
t.  He was
n’
t here, so Stoke Farrel and I ate i
t
—”

I shut my mouth. 
I’
ve just given her ammo to burn Robin.  She now knows he was
n’
t here, so if
I’
m his alibi, I just blew it.  She also knows Stoke
was
here, so
I’
ve given Stoke and myself an alibi, while destroying Robi
n’
s. 

I watch her face.  She looks skeptical, like she thinks
I’
m Ted Bund
y’
s evil twin sister.  And then slowly awareness dawns.
 “
Oh my God
,”
I whisper, my throat dry.

The black plastic bag . . . Stoke showed me the Graete
r’
s ice cream.  I did
n’
t bother opening it.  I just assumed it was something Stoke stashed in my freezer, or maybe something Robin left.  I shake my head, unbelieving, my gut rocketing to my ankles.  Truth is, I do
n’
t know how that garbage bag got in my freezer.

“
Yo
u’
re . . . sayi
n
’ there was a gir
l’
s shoulder in that bag
?
” 

“
Come
on
. 
Y’
all gotta be shitti
n
’ me.  Like you do
n’
t
know
?”

Oh.  My.  God.

My knees buckling, I lean against the door.  No wonder the cops are crawling like ants all over my place. 

Did Robin put that shoulder in there?

I shake my head, unwilling to believe it.  How can my brother be involved in this?  H
e’
s not even been here.
 “
H-how did you find out i
t’
s in there
?”
I say, trembling.
 “
Who told you
?
”

“
We got a call-in, an anonymous tip
,”
she says, gloating.
 “
So how did it get in there
?
”

Someone called in a tip? 

I try piecing things together in my addled brain.  For Go
d’
s sake,
I’
m a criminology major, so why ca
n’
t I deal with the evidence?  I shake my head, trying to clear my brain.  Who, besides Robin, would know to call in a tip about that bag in my freezer? 

Robin could
n’
t be involved.  He just could
n’
t.  But Officer Barbi
e’
s staring hard, like sh
e’
s trying to will me into spilling my guts, and
I’
ve already destroyed my brothe
r’
s alibi.  Too late, I can hear Berta Colb
y’
s warning.