A rowdy group of men dressed in suits from the 1920s filled the police station.
Rowena snatched a pen from Detective Donnie Valdez's desk before leaning back in her chair.
"My client would like to speak with her granddaughter, who is also my client," Selig insisted. "Your proof is circumstantial."
Donnie shook his head. "Her prints are on the knife we found in the victim's body. Her earring was also at the crime scene. The two fought over a man and Rosa Flores publicly threatened to kill her. It pains me to do this, but our hands were tied."
Rowena uncapped the pen and began drawing a tear shape at the corner of her right eye. Donnie fidgeted in his seat, swallowing a knot of fear as he watched her.
"What are you doing?" Selig asked Rowena.
She ignored him and began drawing a second tear.
"There aren't any other suspects," Donnie insisted.
"What about the victim's son? We heard he was part of some illegal gambling operation," Selig said.
Donnie sighed, gesturing around him. "The men who were at that gambling room have all been brought in. Some of them are still being booked."
"And Moises Brown?" Selig insisted. "You haven't found him yet?"
Donnie stared at the fourth teardrop Rowena drew on her face. "Rowena, I hate to ask. I really do, but what are you doing?"
"I want to talk to my abuela, Donnie," Rowena said in a calm voice, placing the pen back on his desk.
Donnie scooted back in his chair, licking his lips nervously before stealing a glance at Selig.
"We're at a police station, Rowena," Donnie whispered. "Dont do anything crazy."
"How about I just talk to her?" Selig suggested. "I'm her lawyer so I'm allowed. Just let me know what you want to say to her."
Rowena stared at Donnie. "I'm not going to repeat myself, Donnie."
"I can't just sneak you in, Rowena," he said refusing to look at her.
Rowena slammed her hand on his desk. "Look me in the eyes!"
Donnie gulped and did as she said.
"Donnie Valdez, you will let me in to see my abuela and you will let me out when I'm ready to leave. Do you understand me?"
Donnie nodded. "I will let you in to see your grandmother. I will let you out when you're ready."
He stood up, pushing back his chair and proceeded to walk towards the holding area.
"Did you just use your vampire abilities?" Selig asked.
"I sure did," Rowena smirked. "Next time, I'm going to use them when I'm in court."
She was about to follow Donnie when Selig stopped her. "What's with the teardrops?"
She scoffed and shook her head. "I need something to intimidate the other people in there so they won't mess with my abuela."
Rowena followed Donnie to a large holding cell where a group of women were being held.
"Rowena? They got you too? Why do you have teardrops too? Did you get a face tattoo? Those are never a good decision, Rowena!" Jeremiah rushed forward in his gold booty shorts and a blue Clarkton police shirt.
"Jeremiah, why are you always placed in the women's cell?" Rowena asked.
He shrugged. "The officer who brought me here said I looked too delicate to be placed with the men. I don't mind. Women have far more interesting reasons to be here than men."
Rowena's brows rose. "Really? I'd imagine they'd be the same-- money, love, and greed."
Jeremiah leaned forward. "There's an old lady here who's wanted for murder. You don't see that every day. She has teardrop tattoos on her face just like you do."
Rowena looked past him to see her grandmother staring down two hookers and masculine looking woman.
"Abuela!" Rowena ran to her grandmother. "Are you okay?"
"Don't call me abuela when we're in the slammer. It makes me look weak," Rosa hissed.
"Sorry," Rowena said, sitting down across from her. "Are those teardrops on your face? How did you know to use them when you're locked up? Have you been locked up before? Who knew you and I were so alike?"
Rosa sniffed and looked away. "Why are you here, Rowena? Did you get arrested again?"
"No, Donnie let me visit you."
"El hombre sucio," Rosa spat. "He arrested me in the middle of a pinochle game. I was just about to win."
Rowena leaned forward. "Don't worry. I'm gonna bust you out of here."
Rosa chuckled. "No. I want my name cleared. I never killed la puta Jasmine."
"It's not nice to call a dead woman a puta, Abuela."
"I told you not to call me that! Jasmine is dead. The truth isn't going to hurt her feelings. She broke up many couples in the nursing home. Los policías idiotas think I'm the the only one with a motive. I'm not. Jasmine broke up families and ruined marriages where kids were involved even before she came to the nursing home. She took money from married men and bragged about it."
"Dang, who knew Jasmine had such game?" Rowena muttered. She looked around and noticed the masculine woman glaring at Rosa. Rowena's eyes narrowed.
"Rowena, do you know her? Is that why you both have teardrops? Did you join her gang?" Jeremiah asked.
"Does that woman look familiar?" Rowena pointed to the masculine looking woman with long black hair. She wore a pink and white dress that reached her ankles, allowing everyone to see her sandaled feet.
"No, but she is in desperate need of a pedicure," Jeremiah answered with a shudder. "Her gnarled toes look like Hobbits holding up jagged yellow shields."
"Oookay," Rowena said. She pointed a finger at the woman. "Whatvare you staring at, puta?"
Jeremiah gasped. Rosa chuckled.
"Did you just call me a puta?" The deep voiced woman asked.
Rowena didn't bother to answer. Instead, she leaped toward the woman grabbing her hair and pulling off her wig. Rowena rolled and pushed herself off the floor, holding up the wig. "I knew it!"
"She's a man!" Jeremiah shouted. "Or a woman. What's the politically correct term?"
"I'm a man and I'm here for revenge!" He ran toward Rosa and pulled her in front of him.
"Stay back or I'll snap her neck," the man in the pink and white dress, said. "How dare you call my mom a puta!"
The two hookers were screaming for help through the cell bars.
"Who are you?" Jeremiah asked.
Rowena stepped forward. "I knew you looked familiar."
"Who is he Rowena?" Jeremiah asked as the sound of running footsteps approached.
Rowena didn't take her eyes off the man as she answered Jeremiah. "Moises Brown. He's the son of Jasmine Brown, la puta."
Translation: la puta means the whore