UNBIASED CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER ONE
Isla
“You’re making a terrible mistake!” Isla’s hands shook as she was led into a small room with a table and three chairs. “I don’t understand why you’re arresting me! I haven’t done anything wrong, and neither has Milo! This is ridiculous! You’re the police. You’re supposed to help people.”
“Shut it, criminal,” one of the uniformed officers said, placing her in the corner. “I am helping people by locking you up where you belong.”
She had no idea where they had put Milo, but she knew he was somewhere in the same building going through the same thing, only probably much worse. The cops still seemed sore that Milo had been released from prison. Isla had been on the jury that convicted him, but she had found new evidence that had exonerated Milo, proving he couldn’t have murdered his wife, Nell.
The evidence didn’t seem to matter to the boys in blue. They hadn’t hesitated to arrest Milo for another murder, this time for the killing of Joel Crosby, the foreman of the jury who oversaw Milo’s murder trial.
Things had happened so quickly that Isla never saw her arrest coming. One minute, she was on the phone with Milo’s attorney, Preston Palmer, trying to warn him about Milo’s ridiculous arrest, and the next, she was being handcuffed and escorted to a very smelly police cruiser with a smiling detective gripping her arm much harder than necessary as he shoved her into the back seat.
On the drive to the police station, her pleas were met with stony silence. And when the door to the small room closed behind the officer, she realized that she was in trouble.
Isla had already watched what happened to Milo during his trial, and in the time that he had been staying with her, she had heard enough to know that his arrest and jailing weren’t fun either. The police hated him, and after his release, they hated him even more for making them look bad, especially Detective Clark.
Would they treat her the same way for being associated with him? Would they take it out on her for helping him to go free? Would they find a way to lock her up and hold her until a jury falsely labeled her a murderer, too?
She had a million questions, and they were all running through her head at the same time.
Isla couldn’t handle that. She couldn’t spend her life locked up in a cell for something she didn’t do. She didn’t belong there. Surely someone would see that, right? Someone would come into the room and tell her it was all a joke. Maybe the detective was just trying to teach her a lesson or scare her. But she knew that wasn’t true. They really thought that she had helped Milo in some way. Or else she wouldn’t be there.
Her life was over if they wouldn’t listen to reason. And she wondered how many times Milo tried to get them to listen to him. How much time had he spent before she worked to get him released? Too long. And she would never survive it.
Isla covered her face with her hand and rubbed her temples as the temperature of the room made her shiver. It seemed it had only gotten colder as the minutes ticked by. Were they trying to freeze her to death, or was that just her blood pressure dropping from the shock?
What else would they do? Torture her?
She felt so helpless as if she was going to be left for dead. And knowing the police department and how hard they had fought against Milo, she wouldn’t be surprised.
But those thoughts were only her helplessness getting the best of her. “Stop it now. You can’t just lay down and die, and you’re not going to roll over and let them kick you.” She was tougher than that. And she needed to remind herself that she was a fighter. “Stay strong.”
She didn’t see any harm in the little pep talk until she looked up and spotted the camera pointing in her direction in the opposite corner of the room. The little red indicator light was flashing, showing that she was being recorded, and she had to wonder if, somewhere, someone was watching. Was it Detective Clark? Or someone else?
She stuck out her chin and stared right at it, giving it a look that should make it burst into flames. She wasn’t going down without a fight. And she wouldn’t let them see her cry. She wasn’t scared. She wasn’t scared of anything!
She jumped as the door opened and felt a little silly when Detective Clark came into the room with his own chin held high and a slimy smirk on his face.
“Ms. Perry,” he said, clearly enjoying seeing her like this. “I’m sure you understand why we’ve brought you down here.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t understand why I’m here. And I don’t know why Milo is here either. You’re making a horrible mistake, and I’ve been trying to tell you that.”
“Well, I see it differently, I’m afraid. You’re obviously helping Mr. Ford take revenge on the jurors who you feel did him a disservice. You’ve not only taken him into your home, but you’ve obviously adopted his patterns of behavior, haven’t you?”
Isla thought he was delusional. “No, I haven’t. And Milo isn’t who you think he is. He hasn’t done anything wrong. And neither have I.”
“Oh, trust me when I say I know Milo Ford much better than you do. You obviously have developed some affection for him that has clouded your judgment, which is why you should consider cooperating with me. You see, I can get you a deal if you want to tell me the truth about him. You won’t even have to serve any time for being his accomplice if you tell me what happened. I’ve got all day. You just need to tell me what he did to Mr. Crosby. As his accomplice, I’m sure you know everything.”
Isla couldn’t believe her ears. “Accomplice? I’m not anyone’s accomplice. I simply let Milo stay at my house, where he was all night and this morning. He’s been with me every waking moment.”
Detective Clark gave her a sideward look. “Yet, you weren’t at the house today when we went to make our arrest. You want me to believe that, Ms. Perry?”
“I only left for a little while. It was hardly any time for Milo to commit murder.”
“Yet, the murder weapon was the very scarf you two reported having shown up on your doorstep. And where is that scarf now? You certainly couldn’t provide it.”
Isla still didn’t know why the scarf wasn’t where she left it. It was just there one minute and gone the next. “I must have been mistaken about where I put the scarf. But I am not wrong about Milo. He is innocent, and so am I.” She didn’t care if she had to say it a hundred times.
“Or, he took that scarf and killed Mr. Crosby with it. You can’t have your eyes on him all the time, even living under the same roof. Perhaps while you were sleeping last night, Milo took the scarf and slipped out. You were having issues with Mr. Crosby, weren’t you? Maybe your new boyfriend took care of that?”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she said, eyes narrowing. “There’s nothing like that going on. I’m just trying to help. And yes, we did have trouble with Crosby. He was protesting with a bunch of people outside my house. You were there. But that was the one day, and he hasn’t been back around since.”
“Problem solved, right? Milo took care of it so he wouldn’t come around—or should I say couldn’t be around to bother the two of you again. He didn’t like the negative attention he was getting and figured he’d go to the root of the problem. I’m correct, aren’t I?”
“No, you’re wrong. Dead wrong.” Isla was growing tired already, and she was so cold her body had begun to tense uncomfortably.
“Funny choice of words,” he said with a sly look. “Freudian slip, perhaps? See? You knew Milo’s plans all along. Maybe you thought it was the only way to stop the harassment.”
“No, that’s stupid. Milo didn’t have any plans, and neither did I.” It was the most ridiculous thing to think that she and Milo were sitting around trying to plan a murder for someone simply being an annoying prick.
“Well, that’s not true,” Clark said. “Everyone has plans. So, tell me, Isla Perry, where were you when we showed up to arrest him? You said you had to run errands. Where did you go?”
Isla didn’t have anything to hide regarding the death of Mr. Crosby, but she didn’t want Detective Clark to know that she had been at the college or that she was talking to Mary Plum. He wasn’t too happy that she had continued to investigate the truth behind Nell’s death. That would certainly put a permanent blemish on him, and the department like Milo had told her. As long as they had Milo to blame, they would never have to be accountable.
She opened her mouth to speak only to be interrupted by Detective Clark. “Keep in mind that anything you tell me will be thoroughly investigated.”
She wasn’t sure what would incriminate her and what wouldn’t at that point. But if her aunt had told her one thing, it was that the truth was important. But so was keeping your mouth shut. She had said way too much already.
“I think I need a lawyer.”
“You think?” he asked, giving her a hard look.
“I know talking to you isn’t going to help things. Besides, I already told you the truth. You clearly don’t want to hear it.” She sighed. “You don’t care about facts. You’ve decided Milo is guilty and you’re only looking at things that confirm your suspicions.”
“Well, this shouldn’t be hard then. I just need you to answer the questions. If you don’t have anything to hide, why not just tell me where you were earlier this morning? Were you gone all night?”
“No.”
“Then you should explain.” He shrugged like it was no big deal.
She glanced back up to see the red light was still flashing on the camera.
“Fine. You already know that Milo and I have been trying to figure out who killed his wife. That’s all I was out doing.”
“Foolishly. Yes, I loved your little storyboard. That was quite interesting, especially with the victim’s photo and the murder weapon spelled out above it.”
“That wasn’t there to mark him as a target,” said Isla. “We were just trying to figure out more about who sent the scarf. We thought it could have been someone from the trial, perhaps Mr. Crosby, since he had been so awful to us already. But we didn’t want him to die. Milo isn’t like that, no matter what you want to believe.”
They were quick to villainize him.
“And what if you’re wrong?” he asked. “Which I think you are. You’re in danger. How can you live with someone you barely know?”
“I’m not wrong about Milo. He didn’t do anything. But the real killer is out there, and he must have done this. So, you should go out there and figure out who it is.”
“I’m confident I already have,” he said. “You may have gotten Milo off on a technicality, as it were, but I know I had the right man all along. So, tell me where your little investigation took you.”
“Just to the college. That’s it. I wanted to see if I could get some more information. But there is none. End of story.”
Detective Clark narrowed his eyes. “If we couldn’t find the so-called real killer, what makes you so sure you can? You’re just a bored little rich girl, and he’s a criminal who doesn’t want you to find the truth.”
Isla could see that she had already said enough, and nothing was going to change the man’s mind about her. She was in trouble, and so was Milo. “I am done talking. I want my attorney.”
“Your attorney?” he asked. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk to me and see if we can make a deal? You know, the first one who talks gets the reward.”
“Preston Palmer.” She closed her mouth and pulled her lips in tightly as if to seal them shut. She hoped Preston wouldn’t mind, but she knew he’d be around for Milo’s sake.
The detective gave a cynical grin. “Of course, he is. I should have known,” he said, shaking his head. “Well, in that case, I’m sure he’ll be here soon. He’s probably going to talk to your boyfriend first, so you just sit tight and don’t make any trouble for us.”
He walked to the door and she realized that he was leaving her alone in there again. Who knew when he’d be back?
“Wait, I have to stay here?” she asked, rubbing the chill from her arms.
“Yeah.”
“How long?” she asked, hoping he would do the decent thing and answer. “Do you know?”
“Not long. But don’t worry. The cells, like hell, are a lot warmer.” He gave her a wink and walked away, closing the door behind him.
Isla slumped in her chair knowing that Milo was going through much worse and she had to be strong. He had said he never wanted to end up in a place like that again, and now he was back where it all started, being questioned for a murder he didn’t commit. She was sure that if they got out of this situation, he would be done with the investigation. But she wasn’t going to let him give up.
As long as he lived, she’d do everything she could to help her friend and clear his name.
She just hoped that the misunderstanding would be cleared up sooner rather than later. She laid her head down on the table and tried to focus on sunny sand and warm beaches. Anything was better than the cold, pitiless room.
