Page 105 of Renegade

Once we’d hung up, I’d sobbed into a couch cushion before rushing down to the station. It had all been for nothing though. Helping his friend hide a body was one thing, but god forbid he actually do something for the woman he was fucking.

I punched the mattress in frustration. “Motherfucker!”

I glanced down at my cell phone again, begging for a text…a phone call…anything that would let me know Monica was getting out.

Seeing that it was after five and giving up on any thoughts of sleep, I grabbed my laptop and fired it up. As I typed in my search query, site after site appeared on what to do and who to call in cases of DUIs and DWIs.

And none of it looked good.

Words like ‘Class A’ and ‘Class B’ misdemeanors leapt off the page. If those charges didn’t disappear, then she was going to be looking at fines and jail time.

Maybe I needed to call Mike and apologize for my outburst. I wasn’t sorry at all, but I didn’t want Monica spending one more night in a cell.

There was a knock on my front door just as I picked up my phone. He’d finally come to his senses. I stalked down the hallway and threw open the front door. “I knew you’d—” The words froze on my tongue as I took in the two uniformed officers standing on my porch.

One had salt and pepper hair and a thick mustache that probably got all sorts of food caught in it throughout the day. The other was a young female with short and spiky blonde hair. They both displayed their badges and she asked, “Are you Lauren McGuire?”

I nodded dumbly. “Why are you here?”

Was Mike sending cops to talk to me to now? I didn’t know if it was lack of sleep or just the stress from yesterday, but I was thoroughly confused.

She continued, “I’m Officer Sorensen and this is Officer Richards. May we come in?”

I nodded again and held open the door. Officer Richards closed it gently behind him as Officer Sorensen led me over to the couch. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

Wasn’t I supposed to be the one to offer that?

She sat down next to me. “Ms. McGuire, I’m sorry to wake you, but Monica McGuire was found dead early this morning.”

I stared blankly at her, waiting for the camera crew and Mike to come through the front door and tell me it was all a joke. A bubble of hysterical laughter broke free, but I managed to wheeze out, “Nice one. Did Mike put you up to this? My mother is currently sitting in a jail cell, so I’m pretty sure you’re wrong.” I pointed at the male officer. “And why the fuck are you here? You haven’t said a goddamned word!”

Officer Sorensen patted my leg. “I understand it may be difficult to process, but the identification recovered matched her information.”

I shook my head and scooted further away from her. “No, she’s in jail. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about. I already tried getting her out, but there has to be a bail hearing and I was told that could take a couple of days—she’s not dead.”

Officer Richards spoke up. “The decedent was in possession of your contact information among other…items. Her effects are being held for you at the Coroner’s office.”

I jumped up off the couch. “Decedent? What are you—Sherlock Holmes? I don’t know why you’re not listening to me. Monica is sitting in jail—has been since yesterday morning. She was charged with possession and DUI—they don’t let you out for that when no one has posted bail!” My chest was heaving, but neither officer reacted.

Officer Sorensen just stood up and walked over to me. “Would you like for us to take you down to the coroner’s office to make a positive identification.”

I bit my lip, but nodded. “I’m telling you, you’ve got the wrong person.”

I slipped on some boots before following them downstairs and climbing into the back of their cruiser. We drove across town in silence. I was tempted to call Mike, but I didn’t know what to say.

Hadn’t we said it all in his office earlier?

He wasn’t willing to help me get Monica out. It hadn’t left us with a lot of options for our relationship. I was going to do whatever it took to find out who set her up. He’d made it clear he didn’t feel the same.

We parked and both officers led me to a small room with a table, some chairs, and an upholstered love seat. Monotonous elevator music played softly in the background. I brushed my wild hair off of my forehead and sat down at the table, feeling more tired than I could ever remember being in my life.

Another woman entered, holding a clipboard, and sat down across from me. “Hello, Lauren. My name is Brynn Kelly and I’m a crisis counselor here. I’m going to be with you as long as you need me to be.”

I shook my head. “This isn’t going to take up much of your time. My mother is sitting in jail—there’s been a mix up.”

Brynn nodded encouragingly. “Okay then,” she gestured toward her clipboard. “The identification will be done by photograph right here in this room. The photograph will be upside down—when you turn it over, you’ll see a face surrounded by a blue sheet. She looks like she’s sleeping. I can stay here as long as needed until you feel comfortable turning the photograph over.”

She placed the clipboard in front of me and I stared at the back of the picture for a brief second before flipping it over. I wanted to get this over with and prove them—

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