Skin Privilege

Jeffrey was annoyed at the cloak-and-dagger, but he was willing to play along with the sheriff for now. The most important thing right now was figuring out what kind of mess Lena had gotten herself into. He felt around for the switch and turned on the light. Rows of sheets were stacked on the right, towels on the left. The remaining space was about eight feet deep and three feet wide. There were cells at the county jail that were larger than this.

Sara obviously wanted to stay outside, but he indicated she should go in ahead of him. Jeffrey followed and Valentine brought up the rear, closing the door. The closet got even smaller.

'So,' the sheriff began, flashing a smile. He was talking in a normal voice now, and he leaned against one of the shelves, acting as if they were just a group of pals chatting before a football game. 'About eleven o'clock last night I was sitting around watching the TV and I see these flames shooting up over by the high school. First thing I do is call the fire department, thinking the building's on fire again – we've had some kids try it before but the sprinklers stopped them in their tracks, which is a good thing because the fire department's all volunteer and it like to took forever to get them all there. Anyway, I got dressed and walked over to the school to see what was going on. It was faster to walk. Like I told you, I live right across the street.'

The story was so embellished Jeffrey wondered how many times it had been repeated. He tried to get to the important part. 'So you saw the car burning on the field?'

'Right,' Valentine confirmed. 'Last night was dark as pitch, but the flames were high, and I could see somebody sitting on the bleachers. I walked over, thinking it'd be some stupid kid gone out for a joyride, and I see Miss Adams – your detective. She was sitting on the bottom bleacher, soot and stuff all over her. Had her foot propped up on a gas can.'

'Was she burned?'

'Nah, but she was beat something awful,' the man answered. 'Bruised down the side of her face like she'd been punched, blood coming out of her mouth, wheezing something horrible. Me, I've never seen anything like that before, but maybe I've been watching too many Lifetime movies with the wife, because the first thing that pops into my mind is, "this woman just torched her husband." You know, like he'd hauled off and hit her one too many times and she just snapped' – he snapped his fingers – 'and so I sat beside her, tried to get her to talk.'

Jeffrey asked, 'What did she say?'

'Nothing,' the man admitted. 'I tried every trick I could think of to draw her out, but she wouldn't speak.'

Jeffrey could imagine what Lena 's reaction would have been to Valentine's various 'tricks.' The man was lucky she hadn't laughed in his face.

Valentine continued, 'Wasn't until this morning when we did a search of the school parking lot and found her Celica that we got her name. I found her badge in the glove compartment and figured, hey -what's it hurt to give 'em a call?'

Jeffrey skipped over the fact that the sheriff had waited until daylight to search the parking lot. 'She wasn't carrying any ID on her?'

'No, sir. Didn't find anything on her except a tube of ChapStick – the license was in the Celica and the badge was in the glove box like I told you. Nothing else in her pockets, nothing hidden in her…' His voice trailed off, and he blushed as he finished, 'places.'

'No weapon?' In addition to her Glock, Lena sometimes carried a large folding knife in her back pocket, but Jeffrey wasn't going to share that with the sheriff right now.

'No, sir. No weapons of any kind.'

'Was anyone else injured or on the scene?'

'Nope. Just the victim in the Caddy and her on the bleachers.'

'Did she have gasoline on her? Any kind of accelerant on her shoes or clothes?'

'Nope. But the gasoline can was empty.'

'Did she have matches or a lighter?'

'Nothing except the ChapStick, and I cranked it all the way up to make sure what it was and it was ChapStick all the way through.'

'Were her fingerprints on the gas can?'

'Can't really tell. It's an old can – lots of rust. We sent it to the GBI lab in Macon, but I can guess you're familiar with their time frame.'

Jeffrey nodded. Unless a case had high priority, the lab probably wouldn't have time to process the gas can for at least six months.

He tried to be polite with his next question. 'No offense, but what did you charge her with?'

'Not much,' Valentine admitted. 'I'm gonna shoot straight with you, Chief, what with us both being on the job and all. We don't have a lot on her,

but I think you'll agree the circumstances are pretty suspicious, plus with her not helping us out by answering any questions.'

Jeffrey had to admit that with a noncompliant person found at the scene of a homicide, he probably would have done the same thing. He repeated, 'What did you charge her with?'

Valentine had the grace to look embarrassed as he counted off on his fingers, 'Obstruction of justice. Impeding an investigation. Failure to produce identification when asked.'

Jeffrey nodded again. He could see Lena doing all of that. Hell, he couldn't count on his own hands the number of times she'd impeded investigations back in Grant County – and those had been cases she was working on.

He asked, 'Has she been arraigned?'

'The judge came over to the hospital this morning.'

Jeffrey did a quick count of the money he had in his checking account. His paycheck wasn't due for another week. He would have to wait for the bank to open in the morning so that he could move the money from his savings and take out the cash from an ATM machine. He asked, 'Where do I post bail?'

'Bail was denied.'

Jeffrey tried to hide his shock, but then he figured out very quickly how this had probably worked. The sheriff was new to the job, but he'd managed to get a judge in his pocket. Still, Jeffrey tried to make the man see logic. 'You think she's a flight risk? She was born here. She has ties to the community. She's been a distinguished officer on my force for over a decade.'

'I understand that.'

'You can't put a cop in jail. They'll tear her to pieces.'

'She's not in the jail,' Valentine reminded Jeffrey. 'She's in the hospital.'

'All I can tell you is you better have a damn good reason why you're keeping her in custody.' Jeffrey could play this game, too. He'd been on the job a lot longer than Jake Valentine. Fuck the local yokels. Jeffrey had state judges in his pocket.

Apparently, Valentine wasn't as stupid as he looked. 'I had nothing to do with that, Chief. I'll swear on a stack of Bibles. Not my fault she wouldn't plead.'

'What does that mean?'

'It means what I said before. Your detective's not making a peep.'

Jeffrey finally understood. 'She hasn't said anything since you found her on the field?'

'No, sir. Not one word. Didn't ask for a drink of water or try to find out how her medical condition was doing or when she was gonna get out of here. She wouldn't talk to her court-appointed lawyer, wouldn't answer the judge when he asked if she was guilty or not guilty. She just laid there in the bed staring at the ceiling. Avery was so annoyed -Avery is the judge – that he denied bond and ordered a psych evaluation.'

Jeffrey felt his mind reeling. Lena could certainly be obstinate, but her silence made no sense. Someone had died in that fire. How could she sit there watching the car burn?

Sara finally spoke. 'Maybe her throat was damaged during-'

'Doc said there's no medical reason she can't talk,' Valentine interrupted. 'Problem is, she won't even make the effort.'

Jeffrey still could not see the logic behind Lena 's silence. 'What did the shrink say?'

'She wouldn't talk to him, either,' the sheriff answered. 'Far as I know, she hasn't said one dang thing this whole time. Just lays there staring at the ceiling. I even tried to get Darla to draw her out. Nothing.'