Page 4 of Fighting for Mallory

Strange screams of death echoed in Mallory’s ears. Is that blood? Oh, God, there’s so much of it! The blood…my hands.... Out, out, damn spot! The smell…I can’t get rid of it…

Those screams, were they hers? No. They were her housekeeper Greta’s.

I must help her.

Mallory’s limbs refused to obey their commandment to move. Were her eyes open or closed? Was she awake or asleep? Sensing Bentley next to her, she nudged him.

“Are you awake? Did you hear Greta screaming?”

She didn’t know if she spoke aloud or not. The screaming subsided. Mallory slipped back into a haze of unreality, rolling on a wave of nightmarish images floating in her mind’s eye.

Heavy footsteps pounded on the marble staircase. Someone yelled, “LAPD! Don’t move!”

An irresistible urge to laugh bubbled inside Mallory. She couldn’t move even if she wanted to.

“Jesus Christ!”

She heard choking sounds. Please don’t vomit on our Persian carpet. Bentley won’t be happy about that.

A voice she recognized ordered her to open her eyes and put down the knife. Mallory struggled to obey. Her eyes were as heavy as lead weights. Someone approached her.

“Careful.” A warning.

“Mallory.” He spoke her name in a gentle tone. A hand lifted her eyelids and shone a light into her eyes. “Mallory, it’s Officer Finnigan.”

He took something she’d been clutching from her hand. What did he tell her to do? Put down a knife? “Finn?” She tried to focus on his face.

Lights flashed, like from an old-fashioned camera.

“Stop! That can wait. Let me get her out of here first.”

Finnigan wrapped a strong arm around her waist and hauled Mallory to her feet. She wobbled and vomited on the Persian carpet. “Oh, no! Look what I’ve done!”

“Lean on me, Mallory.”

He wasn’t quick enough to shield her from the gory, gouged, blood-red body of her husband lying on their bed. She screamed and tried to rush toward him, but Finnigan held her back. “Bentley! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! No! No!”

To add to her horror, Finnigan handcuffed her. “Mallory Hayes, you’re under arrest for the murder of Bentley Hayes. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as I have explained them to you?”

“What’s happening?” Tears streamed from her eyes. “I don’t understand what’s happening!”

Finnigan escorted her out of the master suite. “Answer me, Mallory. Do you understand your rights?”

Dizziness overwhelmed her, and she slumped against him as everything went black.

* * *

“You can’t go in there, Luca.” Finnigan stood with his arms crossed outside Mallory’s cubicle in the ER of Sherman Oaks Hospital.

“The hell I can’t! Get out of my way, Finn.” Luca pushed past his friend and entered the cubicle. He approached the bed and gazed down at Mallory. Shock ripped through him. Dried blood, tears, and mascara streaked her face. Her dark brown hair lay in disarray around her head, apparently coming loose from a fancy updo. Pain and fear haunted her eyes. No one had bothered to clean the blood from her hands shackled to the bed railing.

Outrage replaced his shock. Luca pulled back the curtain and addressed Finnigan in a hard voice. “Did you do this? Restrain both her hands? For Christ’s sake, Finn! She’s not a danger to anyone. At least uncuff one of her hands.”

“Just so you know, I’m risking being disciplined for doing this.” Finnigan unlocked the handcuffs on her right hand.

“Since when did any of us care about that?”

“Since U.S. Attorney Judd Nelson?” Finnigan cut himself off and glanced at Mallory. “I’ll give you two some privacy, but make it quick, Luca.”

---