“We gotta get you cleaned up.” Faye digs into her oversized purse, which is shaped like a prison ball and chain.
The handle clinks like a chain as she pulls out a new toothbrush and travel-size toothpaste and hands them to me.
I’m grateful. I am. But these gifts come with expectations. And sure enough, the moment they shove the items into my hands, they’re already unclasping the silver mini scissors from the delicate chain around their neck and sliding them out of the engraved sheath. The antique handles curl with etched floral patterns, resembling jewelry.
“Subtle ladies.” I hold up my hands to prevent them from getting any closer to me. “You’re not getting any squares from me for a quilt y’all have no business making.”
Faye beelines.
Fast.
Too quick.
And before I know it, she’s snatched my favorite flannel shirt off the thin foam mattress. The mini-scissors chew through the fabric in little, hungry bites.
“That’s my favorite shirt.” And byfavorite, I mean one I don’t want to go shopping to replace.
“Then you’ll appreciate where it’s going.” Faye tucks the square in her bag.
“Why’s there a hole on this corner?” Wilma examines the material closely through her glasses. “And is that blood or wine?”
“Jade hit me with a dart. That’s why I know there’s no casserole from her. And it’s blood.”
“Perfect.” Wilma’s eyes light up as her fingers tackle the perimeter of the hole.
Shit.
“Breakfast.” Molly hands me a plate to juggle while giving Faye a piece of paper. “His fingerprint card.”
Un-fucking-believable.
“What the hell’s going on back here?” The walls practically flinch as the sheriff’s voice booms.
I’ve never been more excited to see the sheriff.
“Get them out.” I grab the bars and peer at him between the metal. “Make it stop,” I beg. “I’ll stay here till supper. Hell, I’ll spend another night. You like cards? I’ll play cards. You wanna tell me about Levi’s erection, bring it on. Just get them out.”
He stomps into the holding area, his usual stone-cold face cracks with a rare show of annoyance. For him, that’s a full-blown meltdown.
“Where’s my mother?” His eyes scan the space.
Molly pokes her head from behind me, holding a chipped teacup like this is a garden party.
“Right here, sugar.”
“How many times have I told you, no one back here? And civilians are not permitted in the cell. Why the hell is the door open?”
Molly waves a hand. “Oh, calm down, son.”
“Son?” His jaw ticks.
“We’re all just chatting.”
“Out. Now. All of you,” he shouts.
“Well, that’s a shame.” Faye shoves my whole shirt in her bag. “He was just ‘bout to admit his feelings for Jade.”
“I was not,” I say flatly.
