Last Chance Harvey-Part 20 (Blogophilia 41.11)

The glare was maddening. Pulling the blind, Angela rubbed her eyes. It didn’t make the hangover go away, but she could at least see. And this missing woman case was driving her crazy. Cold coffee made her lips twist, sending the mug down to the desk. The audible clank echoed off the window and across the office. The tall metal cylinder had been Mark’s favorite. She stole it the day after she kicked him out. Did he miss it? Maybe she could write a ransom note? That was silly. He’s too much of a narcissist to care about anything but himself.

The weekend guy had a death in the family, so she volunteered. It wasn’t like she had anything else to do. The other women in the office would joke how they spent their lazy days. Everything was about doing as little as possible in their onesies. Yeah, the butts showed it, too.

If she wasn’t at work, she would be at the gym pumping the machines. It took effort to keep the 36 years at bay. Her Mama told her she was wasting her time. That she should find a good man, settle down and give her grandbabies. The blood rushed to her head. Not happening. No little brat was going fingerpaint on her life. Mark was enough of a child for her. And he was now gone.

A commotion came from the reception area. Curious, Angela wandered down to see. A wriggling woman was penned on a bench between two Uniforms. She wasn’t going down easy and every word out of her mouth questioned their humanity. The dance looked almost sexy, but it wasn’t. Angela dodged a flailing leg as she stepped up to pin them to hard wood.

“Quit resisting, Ma’am.” The larger man shouted. “Quit resisting or we’ll have to taze you.”

“Fuck you.”

The yellow gun buzzed between the thin shoulders. Angela felt her hair rise from the current as the woman screamed and twisted. In a few seconds the cuffs clicked and they pulled the thin form upright. She smelled like a spilled drink. The shoulder seam on the dress had given way, exposing the top of her brassiere, a rose tattoo poked out from the right breast. It wasn’t a real one, but an applique that was already curling up on the edges. Angela looked into the woman’s eyes, too clear. It was an act.

As the woman came to her senses, she shouted out.

“Isn’t it wonderful? I’m going to jail!”

Everyone shrugged their shoulders. Funny how the booze talks sometimes. You would think it was the most humiliating thing on earth. Not to this one. It was like she was being give a gift. Or maybe was a gift.

A female deputy came to take the girl away. As they passed through the locked doors to booking, She turned to the arresting officers.

“What set her off?’

“Don’t know.” The larger man wiped the sweat off his brow. “She came in saying she’d been attacked by guy. When we started asking questions, she slapped Jackson.”

“Got a name?”

“Sheila Jenkins, but no ID to prove it. Guess we’ll have to wait for the Jailers to do their thing.” He stretched his arms over his head,trying to get a kink out of his back. “I bet there are warrants.”

Angela smiled in agreement and turned to go back to her desk. There was a story there, for sure. Refilling the coffee cup, she Looked at the computer screen and knew what the story was.

Under the bad hair dye, fake tattoo and ripped dress, was Corrine Shiffer.

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Topic (How to spend a lazy day)-Doris Emmett

Pic-Gerard Villegas

Pic guesses- Protest, ducks, sign, people, tape, silence, clueless, redhead.

So, Martien Ecrits, I’l take door #2 (or blue, if you prefer). No, I don’t want to make a deal.