Page 6 of Fighting for Mallory

“Who are you?” the reporter demanded.

Cameron drew himself up to his full height. “I’m Cameron McAdams. You might have heard of me. And I said my client has no comment.”

The jail reeked of urine and vomit and a multitude of other odors. Mallory choked on her breath, drawing snickers and glares from the female corrections officers. One grabbed her arm and separated her from Cameron and Finnigan.

“Move,” she ordered Mallory in a rough voice.

“Watch how you speak to her,” Luca commanded from behind them.

Mallory turned her head to look at him and stumbled. The corrections officer jerked her upright. “Let’s go, Mrs. Hayes.”

“Cameron and I will be right here, Mallory. Stay strong.”

Stay strong. How could she? Her insides shuddered with constant fear and nausea. She still suffered from the ill effects of the drug she’d been given. Mallory’s legs barely worked as the corrections officer led her through a maze of locked doors to the booking area.

Someone she didn’t recognize unlocked her handcuffs and handed her a baby wipe so she could clean Bentley’s blood from her hands. She trembled. An officer took each of her fingers and pressed it onto a digital scanner. Then Mallory was ordered to pose for her mug shot holding an identification tablet in front of her. She knew she looked terrible. Her hair hung in dirty, bloody strands, and her eyes were red and swollen. Before she left the hospital, she’d been allowed to splash cold water on her face. It hadn’t helped to alleviate her sluggishness.

Worst was yet to come. After her mug shot, Mallory was led through the process of receiving her orange county jail jumpsuit, shoes, and toiletries, then taken to the showers. Knowing what to expect did not reduce her anxiety and humiliation as she stripped naked on command and an officer performed a body cavity search. Mallory floated outside of herself and watched as if it were happening to someone else.

“Two minutes is all you get to shower.”

Two minutes? She needed a lifetime to wash the stench of Bentley’s blood from her body. Under the lukewarm trickle of water, she sobbed silently. Her tears mingled with the drops running down her face.

Bentley. Oh, God, Bentley. I never wanted this to happen to you. Who murdered you? And who would want to frame me?

The sight of his mutilated body would never leave her. It haunted her vision as she closed her eyes to wash her hair with the bar of soap she’d been given and quickly rinsed it. Mallory scrubbed her body and stood under the water until the officer ordered her out of the shower stall. She dressed in white cotton underwear and plain bra and stepped into the orange jumpsuit with the words ‘Inmate Los Angeles County Jail’ inscribed in large block letters across it. The officer then led her to Interrogation Room 2, where she had conducted her own numerous interviews. When she saw Cameron and Luca waiting for her, Mallory sagged with both relief and embarrassment. She didn’t want Luca to see her like this.

“Luca.” She murmured his name as the officer shoved her into a hard, metal chair.

“I told you I wasn’t abandoning you.”

Before anything else could be said, Judd Morgan burst into the interrogation room and glared at Luca. “You have no business here, Detective Martinelli.” His bright blue eyes narrowed. “In fact, you’re now a person of interest in a homicide investigation. Guard, please take Detective Martinelli to another interrogation room and hold him there. Take his gun and his shield.”

Luca rose to his feet and threw up his hands. “Don’t shoot. I’m reaching for my gun and shield.” He unholstered his service weapon, laid it on the metal table, and unlatched his shield from his belt.

Judd removed the clip from the gun and handed it and the shield to the guard. “Get him out of here.”

“What took you so long, Judd?” Luca tossed at the U.S. attorney, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he was escorted out of the interrogation room.

Cameron met Judd’s hostile glare with one of his own.

“Being a former Department of Justice bigwig doesn’t mean you have any power or privilege here, Mr. McAdams.”

“I was reinstated with the DOJ as a consultant when Hector Morales tried to kill my eldest sons, Trey and Ben. My privilege to practice law extends to all fifty states, and if you’re in doubt, Mr. Morgan, I have Secretary of State Barbara Washburn on speed dial.” He leaned forward, his amber eyes intent. “Suppose you tell me why you rushed to arrest Mallory Hayes for the death of her husband.”

Judd didn’t reply. He opened a file folder and laid out a series of gruesome crime scene photos. Confronted with the images, Mallory choked on a gasp and gagged. Dry heaves hit her. She tried to make sense of the details, but she couldn’t think with the fog in her brain and her head pounding so ferociously. Mallory opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come.

“Put those away,” Cameron commanded. “I’d like some time to confer with my client.”

Judd gathered the disgusting, heartbreaking photos and slid them inside the file folder. He pushed them toward Cameron. “For you.” He made a show of checking his watch. “I’ll be back when I receive the results of the autopsy.”

When they were alone, Cameron glanced at the security camera in one corner of the interrogation room to make sure the red light had gone out. “Mallory, what do you remember about last night?”

“Not much.”

“Take me through the day. What did you and Bentley do yesterday morning?”

“It’s hazy, but I remember we ate breakfast outside by our pool. After that, I spent most of the day working in my home office. Bentley disappeared into his study. Every once in a while, I heard his voice raised in anger as he spoke on the phone.”

---