officer—Medina, according to her badge. “You’re free to go on to your interview, Ms. Vegas. It’s your friend here who needs to come with us.”
“What?” Jaime screeched. “No. She’s not my friend. I mean, yes, of course you are, dear.” A pat on my arm. “But she’s my publicist. I need her for the interview.”
“Then you’ll have to reschedule, because she’s coming with us. She was seen entering the bombed building before the blast, then leaving it shortly after.”
“Wouldn’t I need to have left before the bomb, considering I’m still alive?”
Medina’s look warned me not to be a smart ass. “We just want to speak to you.”
“Then speak here.”
“Miss, we have multiple eyewitness reports. That’s enough to arrest you on, but we’d like to give you the chance to talk to us first. Provide some insight into your co-conspirators.”
“Co-conspirators?” I waved at Jaime. “This is the only person I’ve been conspiring with today. Does she look like a criminal mastermind?”
“You were seen in the company of two men.”
“Two?” Jaime swatted my arm. “Oh my God, you’re so selfish.”
“What did these guys look like?” I asked.
The officers exchanged a look. The woman cleared her throat.
“We have preliminary descriptions, but we’re hoping you can add to those. It will certainly help your situation if you can.”
In other words, the only “description” they had was the one Jeremy heard—two guys covered in mortar dust. Whatever they had on me was bullshit. Yes, I’d been inside that building, but I’d gone in through the roof, meaning no one had seen me enter. I’d exited through the sewer. I had a feeling their “witnesses” were members of SLAM.
“If anyone saw me near this building, there’s an explanation. But I’ll come downtown if that helps.” I turned to Jaime. “You go on, do your interview—”
“Absolutely not,” she said. “This young woman is my publicist, and you can’t treat her like a terrorist. I came here to check out venues for a possible charity appearance. That’s right—charity. New Orleans has been through hell, and if you want tourists coming back, you can’t arrest them on the street …”
She continued her diva rant as Medina started leading me toward the cruiser.
“It’s okay,” I said to Jaime, trying to shut her up. “You stay here. Let Adam know I’ve been delayed. He’ll have to postpone the interview. I won’t be long and—”
“Take your hands off her!” Jaime yelled at the cop.
“She’s not touching me,” I said. “Listen, Jaime—”
She aimed a kick at Medina’s shins. It didn’t come close.Intentionally so—the one thing Jaime can do is kick with the precision of a stiletto-clad kung-fu artist.
The younger officer—Holland—grabbed her. “Cut that out,” he said. “Or you’ll be going to the station with her.”
Jaime wrenched free. “Don’t you dare lay your hands on me!” She feigned another kick, and lost her balance, stumbling. “You tripped me!”
“Get her in the car, too,” Medina said.
As Holland muscled her toward the car, Jaime put up little resistance. Once in the backseat, she slid over, making room for me.
“What the hell?” I whispered as Medina shut the door.
“You’re my backup and I’m yours,” she said. “If they take one, they take both.”
While I appreciated the support, I’d rather she made sure Jeremy and Adam got Bryce to a doctor. Before I could protest, the officers climbed into the front seat, and we pulled away. Jaime handed me her cell and whispered, “Call Paige.”
I didn’t. I called Lucas. After he’d answered, I leaned into the gap between the front seats.
“I’m calling Jaime’s manager to cancel the interview. That’s okay, right?”
Medina looked ready to say no, but her partner nodded. “Just keep it short.”
Lucas was waiting patiently, having realized from my comment to Medina that something was up.
“What?” Jaime screeched. “No. She’s not my friend. I mean, yes, of course you are, dear.” A pat on my arm. “But she’s my publicist. I need her for the interview.”
“Then you’ll have to reschedule, because she’s coming with us. She was seen entering the bombed building before the blast, then leaving it shortly after.”
“Wouldn’t I need to have left before the bomb, considering I’m still alive?”
Medina’s look warned me not to be a smart ass. “We just want to speak to you.”
“Then speak here.”
“Miss, we have multiple eyewitness reports. That’s enough to arrest you on, but we’d like to give you the chance to talk to us first. Provide some insight into your co-conspirators.”
“Co-conspirators?” I waved at Jaime. “This is the only person I’ve been conspiring with today. Does she look like a criminal mastermind?”
“You were seen in the company of two men.”
“Two?” Jaime swatted my arm. “Oh my God, you’re so selfish.”
“What did these guys look like?” I asked.
The officers exchanged a look. The woman cleared her throat.
“We have preliminary descriptions, but we’re hoping you can add to those. It will certainly help your situation if you can.”
In other words, the only “description” they had was the one Jeremy heard—two guys covered in mortar dust. Whatever they had on me was bullshit. Yes, I’d been inside that building, but I’d gone in through the roof, meaning no one had seen me enter. I’d exited through the sewer. I had a feeling their “witnesses” were members of SLAM.
“If anyone saw me near this building, there’s an explanation. But I’ll come downtown if that helps.” I turned to Jaime. “You go on, do your interview—”
“Absolutely not,” she said. “This young woman is my publicist, and you can’t treat her like a terrorist. I came here to check out venues for a possible charity appearance. That’s right—charity. New Orleans has been through hell, and if you want tourists coming back, you can’t arrest them on the street …”
She continued her diva rant as Medina started leading me toward the cruiser.
“It’s okay,” I said to Jaime, trying to shut her up. “You stay here. Let Adam know I’ve been delayed. He’ll have to postpone the interview. I won’t be long and—”
“Take your hands off her!” Jaime yelled at the cop.
“She’s not touching me,” I said. “Listen, Jaime—”
She aimed a kick at Medina’s shins. It didn’t come close.Intentionally so—the one thing Jaime can do is kick with the precision of a stiletto-clad kung-fu artist.
The younger officer—Holland—grabbed her. “Cut that out,” he said. “Or you’ll be going to the station with her.”
Jaime wrenched free. “Don’t you dare lay your hands on me!” She feigned another kick, and lost her balance, stumbling. “You tripped me!”
“Get her in the car, too,” Medina said.
As Holland muscled her toward the car, Jaime put up little resistance. Once in the backseat, she slid over, making room for me.
“What the hell?” I whispered as Medina shut the door.
“You’re my backup and I’m yours,” she said. “If they take one, they take both.”
While I appreciated the support, I’d rather she made sure Jeremy and Adam got Bryce to a doctor. Before I could protest, the officers climbed into the front seat, and we pulled away. Jaime handed me her cell and whispered, “Call Paige.”
I didn’t. I called Lucas. After he’d answered, I leaned into the gap between the front seats.
“I’m calling Jaime’s manager to cancel the interview. That’s okay, right?”
Medina looked ready to say no, but her partner nodded. “Just keep it short.”
Lucas was waiting patiently, having realized from my comment to Medina that something was up.
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