Cheryl's face went white, then flushed bright red. “I don't know what you think you're—” She bolted for the door.
Jack moved to intercept, but one of the uniformed deputies was faster. He caught Cheryl's arm and pulled her back, his voice calm and professional. “Ma'am, you need to stop. Right now.”
“Let go of me!” Cheryl tried to wrench free, but the deputy held firm.
“Search her,” Jack ordered.
Two female deputies came over immediately and escorted Cheryl into the women’s locker room for a pat-down search.
“You can't do this,” Cheryl was saying as the door to the locker room closed. Her voice was still heard. “I have rights. I want a lawyer. I?—”
It only took thirty seconds for one of the deputies to stick her head out. “Detective? We've got something.”
Jack approached as the deputy carefully handed him a small plastic baggie containing round white pills with no identifying information.
“Well,” Mark said quietly. “That's interesting.”
The deputy who'd retrieved Cheryl's purse opened it carefully, dumping the contents onto the counter. Wallet, keys, makeup, tissues, and another baggie, this one with oval pale-yellow pills. The same ones Robbie had described.
Jack looked at Cheryl, whose face had gone from red to ashen. “Cheryl Mason, you're under arrest for possession of controlled substances with intent to distribute.”
“I want a lawyer,” Cheryl said immediately.
“That's your right,” Jack said. “But before we go any further, I need to ask you one question. Are there any other drugs in this gym? Anything that could be a danger to the people who work out here?”
Cheryl's mouth clamped shut, her eyes defiant.
Jack nodded to the handlers. “Continue to search the whole facility. Offices, locker rooms, storage areas. Everything.”
The dogs went to work while the female deputies cuffed Cheryl and read her her rights. She stood there with her jaw clenched, glaring at Jack like she could set him on fire with the force of her anger.
The dogs worked through the gym methodically but came up empty. No additional drugs in the office, the locker rooms, or the storage closets. Whatever operation Cheryl had been running, she'd been smart enough not to keep a large supply on-site.
Once the search was complete, one of the deputies escorted Cheryl out to a patrol car. Jack watched her go, then turned to Mark.
“Let's see if she'll talk,” Jack said.
They drove back to the station, where Cheryl was processed and placed in an interview room. Jack gave her time to stew, to think about the situation she was in, before he and Mark entered with a legal pad and a recording device.
“This interview is being recorded,” Jack said, flipping a switch on a recorder on the table and stating the date, time, and who was present. “Ms. Mason, you've been advised of your rights. Do you understand them?”
“Yes,” Cheryl said sullenly.
“You said you wanted a lawyer. Do you still want one, or are you willing to talk to us?”
Cheryl stared at the table for a long moment. Then she looked up, and something in her expression had shifted. Not quite defeated, but calculating. Like she was weighing her options and trying to figure out which path would hurt her the least.
“I'll talk,” she said finally. “But I want it on record that I'm cooperating.”
“Noted,” Mark said. “Let's start with the pills we found on you. Where did you get them?”
Cheryl's jaw tightened. “I'm nothing more than someone who passes along what comes to me.”
“Passes along to who?” Jack asked.
“I get them delivered to the fitness center.” Cheryl gestured vaguely, as though indicating the gym. “I order vitamins and supplements, protein powder, and almost everything for the center. I got a call from someone who wanted to know if I’d like to make more money by passing along their special supplements.”
“And you agreed? Not knowing what they were?” Jack asked.
