Recollection Of Questionable Events

Someone Explains It All.

(13) Someone Explains It All:

Araceli Torre

 

Riggs un-cuffed my hand without saying a single word, which frighten me more than his accusations. Mostly because he refused to answer any of my questions, I still had no idea how much trouble I’d gotten myself into.

When I’d been arrested for ‘stealing’, my first thoughts went to the garbage incidents and second to the purse. But clearly no one cared about that. The idea that I stole cars to hustle drugs for a Mexican cartel made no sense, and I didn’t think Riggs could believe that either (at least I hoped).

And if that were the case, I needed to stop hanging out with Monica. Her type of crazy seemed contagious.

“Come on,” my cousin said annoyed, as he unceremoniously ushered me out of the room.

Riggs stood half-way down the hallway, and Cesar used his super long legs to power-walk towards him. They immediately put their heads together, whispering and laughing like little kids.

 “Hey, so what are you two whispering about? Am I in trouble?”

Neither one of them bothered to turn around, Cesar just waved at me to shush it. That seemed to be the theme of the day, just don’t tell Araceli anything..

I shuffled my way down the gloomy hallway, secretly trying to eavesdrop on the boys. I could only make out every other word, but none of it shed any light on my current predicament.

Being nosy required quite a bit of focus, which is probably why my face suddenly hit someone’s back.

“Sorry,” I murmured.

“Wait here, while I make sure the paperwork is in order,” Riggs said, as he walked through the big metal door.

“Sooo, am I in trouble?” I asked again.

“Weren’t you paying attention?”

“Of course I was.”

An awkward silence fell between us. But I just couldn’t keep quiet, I had to know.

“Just to clarify, was that a no or a yes?”

“No.”

I waited a few seconds for an explanation, but it appeared that he’d already moved on.

“Okay, so what the hell just happened back there?”

“So you weren’t paying attention?”

“Just tell me.”

“You got caught with the keys to a car used in distributing drugs for some bad people. The same people that Carson works for, a man who followed you because you took something from him.”

“I took nothing.”

“You took or saw something. Why else would he be obsessed?”

“Cause he’s crazy? And Monica found the keys two rows over…we were never near the car,” I said.

“Everyone in the store said you were the one with the keys…and that you’re there every Sunday at the same time.”

“It’s my errand day. And I thought you said I wasn’t in trouble?”

“You’re not. Riggs just thinks you’re a magnet for odd situations.”

“Like Carson?”

“Yep, and the muerte cartel.”

“What happens next?”

“Well, clearly Carson thinks you did something. The first step is figuring out what you saw or took inadvertently.”

“And then?” I asked, but I already knew the answer.

“Bait.”

A horrible idea, and with my current record it was just a recipe for disaster. There had to be a way around this mess.

The big door suddenly sprung open, and a young officer stood on the other side. He handed some papers to Cesar, and escorted us towards the lobby.

Various people were being held by officers (or in handcuffs), throughout the small space. One particular man was walking directly towards me and it made my heart stop.

It was the garb-drug man…Carson.

“I didn’t steal anything,” I screeched, getting ready to bolt in the opposite direction.

Carson’s face was beet red. “You double-crossing son of--” The rest was an incoherent garble of cuss words, which were surprisingly not meant for me.

“What are you talking about…I left the drive in a purse for your girl.”

The creepy man from the restaurant (and the bus) stood slightly behind me. He looked panic stricken, since he’d clearly said something that he shouldn’t have (at least not in a police station).

Now the whole precinct knew that creepy man consorted with drug and money laundering types of people.

“What was that about a drive, and some kind of deal?” asked a tall police officer standing behind the creeper.

No one spoke.

“Well Ivan, it seems like you’re going to get your wish. There will be a part three to our lovely conversation,” said the tall cop.  

“Hold up Stan, I think…” Riggs said excitedly as he ran towards the front desk. He pulled out a box with my personal belongings.

“Hey, those are my things.”

“Is this the purse you took from the bus?” He asked holding up a small drawstring pouch.

“Yes…”

He reached over the desk and grabbed some scissors, quickly slashing the interior of the purse. After a few seconds of him clumsily searching through the bag, he triumphantly pulled out a flash drive.

Stan and Riggs just stared at each other, big goofy grins covering their faces. Soon every officer shared a similar facial expression and I still didn’t know what was going on.

“Everyone back into the interrogation rooms, apparently this isn’t over,” Riggs said laughing.

THE END.

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<3 Viv