“Hey, man. Roland has superficial wounds to the shoulder and upper chest. He’s going to be okay, but doctors are keeping him a few days for observation.”
Malcolm digested the information, relayed the update to Hallison, and disconnected. Her hands flew in the air in silent praise. Afterward, she sniffed, but said nothing as she hurried inside the police station. The lobby was small with a metal protruding counter and a few chairs against white walls. The counter’s opening was protected by glass as if it was a drive-though bank teller’s window.
“May I help you?” a woman behind the window asked as she sat at a desk. She didn’t bother to look up.
As Malcolm opened his mouth, words spewed from Hallison’s non-stop. “Yes. Our friend, Grandma BB—I mean Mrs. Beatrice Tilley Beacon—we think she shot somebody. I mean that’s what we heard. We really don’t know.”
Malcolm contained his amusement. He loved it when Hallison was flustered. She was downright sexy. Malcolm gently scooted her over and took charge. Smiling, he winked at Hallison then cleared his throat. “We would like to pay Mrs. Beacon’s bail.”
The woman casually licked her fingers before flipping a page in a magazine. “She’s at Christian Northeast Hospital.”
Malcolm supported Hallison’s body as she wavered. She searched Malcolm’s eyes with hers before turning back to the window. “Oh, my God, was she shot, too? What’s her condition?”
The clerk shook her head, took a sip from a reusable Big Gulp cup and sighed. “She looked okay to me. We’ve got a running tab up at the hospital because suspects feign heart, asthma, or bladder attacks. One woman even said she was having a baby. It turned out to be cocaine she swallowed. It’s all stall tactics. The officer will finish the booking process when your grandma returns,” she said dryly.
Facing Malcolm, Hallison’s brows knitted with concern. She whispered, “She doesn’t have a heart problem or asthma. I don’t know about her bladder control. That woman is shooting at people and lying, too.”
“See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about,” the eavesdropping clerk interjected.
“Why be a saint when being a sinner will do?” Malcolm mocked then brushed an unwelcome kiss against Hallison’s ear.
Stepping aside, Hallison leaned unnecessarily closer to the security glass. “Thank you for the information. We’ll head up to the hospital.” They turned to leave.
“Ma’am, she’s in police custody, so you won’t be able to see her,” the clerk said with finality, slurping from her empty cup.
Malcolm folded his arms, contemplating their next move. He didn’t mind spending time with his ex. He just didn’t want to do it at a police station. “Okay. We’ll wait in the lobby.”
“Unless you’re her doctor, clergy, or attorney, you won’t be able to see her here either. After she’s charged and warrants are signed, she’ll be transported over to the St. Louis County jail.”
“Hali, we can go home and wait until tomorrow, but I know you. You won’t be able to sleep.” Grimacing, he stroked the hairs on his beard. His behind was already protesting a wait longer than fifteen minutes in an antique chair, but with Hallison, he would have to tough it out. “Do you really want to wait?” He knew the answer when she gave him her bring-a-man-to-his-knees angelic expression.
“Please, Malcolm.”
He counted to three as he appeared to consider her request. “Okay. C’mon, girl. I’ll try to hang.” With Hallison’s hand still latched on to his, Malcolm allowed her to lead him to a set of chairs pushed into a corner and they took a seat.
“Thank you.”
“Hali, why are you thanking me?” He looked from their interlocking hands to the full lips he had kissed earlier. In the corner under a dimmed light and no audience was the perfect setting for a tryst, but he wasn’t in the mood to fight with her over what she perceived as unwanted advances.
“Because I know I can’t make you understand why I broke it off—”
“No, you can’t,” he said, shifting in his chair. He was starting not to recognize himself from the clipped tone he was using more and more with her. She was driving him insane.
Sighing, Hallison pleaded, “Please don’t hold it against me, Malcolm.”
One more request from his ex. He turned over their connected hands, admiring the slight contrast in skin tones, his—light toast, hers—medium toast. Hallison’s back stiffened waiting for his response. Instead, he guided her head to his shoulder. Hallison complied without arguing. “I will always love you, Hali.” She relaxed.
“I’ll never stop loving you, too.”
Malcolm digested the information, relayed the update to Hallison, and disconnected. Her hands flew in the air in silent praise. Afterward, she sniffed, but said nothing as she hurried inside the police station. The lobby was small with a metal protruding counter and a few chairs against white walls. The counter’s opening was protected by glass as if it was a drive-though bank teller’s window.
“May I help you?” a woman behind the window asked as she sat at a desk. She didn’t bother to look up.
As Malcolm opened his mouth, words spewed from Hallison’s non-stop. “Yes. Our friend, Grandma BB—I mean Mrs. Beatrice Tilley Beacon—we think she shot somebody. I mean that’s what we heard. We really don’t know.”
Malcolm contained his amusement. He loved it when Hallison was flustered. She was downright sexy. Malcolm gently scooted her over and took charge. Smiling, he winked at Hallison then cleared his throat. “We would like to pay Mrs. Beacon’s bail.”
The woman casually licked her fingers before flipping a page in a magazine. “She’s at Christian Northeast Hospital.”
Malcolm supported Hallison’s body as she wavered. She searched Malcolm’s eyes with hers before turning back to the window. “Oh, my God, was she shot, too? What’s her condition?”
The clerk shook her head, took a sip from a reusable Big Gulp cup and sighed. “She looked okay to me. We’ve got a running tab up at the hospital because suspects feign heart, asthma, or bladder attacks. One woman even said she was having a baby. It turned out to be cocaine she swallowed. It’s all stall tactics. The officer will finish the booking process when your grandma returns,” she said dryly.
Facing Malcolm, Hallison’s brows knitted with concern. She whispered, “She doesn’t have a heart problem or asthma. I don’t know about her bladder control. That woman is shooting at people and lying, too.”
“See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about,” the eavesdropping clerk interjected.
“Why be a saint when being a sinner will do?” Malcolm mocked then brushed an unwelcome kiss against Hallison’s ear.
Stepping aside, Hallison leaned unnecessarily closer to the security glass. “Thank you for the information. We’ll head up to the hospital.” They turned to leave.
“Ma’am, she’s in police custody, so you won’t be able to see her,” the clerk said with finality, slurping from her empty cup.
Malcolm folded his arms, contemplating their next move. He didn’t mind spending time with his ex. He just didn’t want to do it at a police station. “Okay. We’ll wait in the lobby.”
“Unless you’re her doctor, clergy, or attorney, you won’t be able to see her here either. After she’s charged and warrants are signed, she’ll be transported over to the St. Louis County jail.”
“Hali, we can go home and wait until tomorrow, but I know you. You won’t be able to sleep.” Grimacing, he stroked the hairs on his beard. His behind was already protesting a wait longer than fifteen minutes in an antique chair, but with Hallison, he would have to tough it out. “Do you really want to wait?” He knew the answer when she gave him her bring-a-man-to-his-knees angelic expression.
“Please, Malcolm.”
He counted to three as he appeared to consider her request. “Okay. C’mon, girl. I’ll try to hang.” With Hallison’s hand still latched on to his, Malcolm allowed her to lead him to a set of chairs pushed into a corner and they took a seat.
“Thank you.”
“Hali, why are you thanking me?” He looked from their interlocking hands to the full lips he had kissed earlier. In the corner under a dimmed light and no audience was the perfect setting for a tryst, but he wasn’t in the mood to fight with her over what she perceived as unwanted advances.
“Because I know I can’t make you understand why I broke it off—”
“No, you can’t,” he said, shifting in his chair. He was starting not to recognize himself from the clipped tone he was using more and more with her. She was driving him insane.
Sighing, Hallison pleaded, “Please don’t hold it against me, Malcolm.”
One more request from his ex. He turned over their connected hands, admiring the slight contrast in skin tones, his—light toast, hers—medium toast. Hallison’s back stiffened waiting for his response. Instead, he guided her head to his shoulder. Hallison complied without arguing. “I will always love you, Hali.” She relaxed.
“I’ll never stop loving you, too.”
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