CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Well shit. That hadn’t gone well.

Jakes was clearly pissed.

O’Shea looked around for an exit that wasn’t being guarded by the local PD, and spotted one near the front of the meeting hall, off to the right. If she could just duck through the standing constituents; lose herself in the crowd before she got caught, she might be able to make a clean getaway.

As she scooted low from the aisle where she’d been standing, a smattering of applause broke out around her. She acknowledged it with a tip of her head, but… damn . It was going to call attention to her position.

It had all been going so well, her passive confrontation during a Q and A session at the end of Jake’s long-winded speech. She’d stood when called upon, and her first question—a softball—had been, “Who, exactly, will be running for mayor of this town, Mr. Jakes, if your resolution is adopted?

****

“Well, that depends on who decides to run,” he chuckled. “It could be anyone in this room.” He waved his arm around magnanimously.

“Will you run?” O’Shea asked a little more pointedly.

“I might,” he hedged. “The people have voted me in as head of their select committee for a number of years now, so if the sentiment is right, I’d certainly consider it.” It was a pompous answer; one for which he inflated his chest and beamed at the crowd.

It was time to up the ante.

“What about the scandal that’s just breaking?” O’Shea continued, once she had him relaxed and enjoying her questions.

His brows drew together. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Miss,” he scowled. “There’s no scandal in our fine town.”

“No?” O’Shea pushed. “What about the budget shortfall for the last five fiscal years? Didn’t an independent auditing firm just uncover those findings? Aren’t they going to proceed with a full investigation?”

O’Shea knew it to be true, but Jakes and his cohorts had somehow managed to bury that damning information deep within the pages of a copious town report that had just been released—online only—giving the discovered anomalies a one liner that the majority of voters would miss, if they cared to skim the document at all. And as far as an investigation was concerned…O’Shea wasn’t so sure. She had her suspicions that Jakes had paid the analysts off, and the probe would go no further.

“I’m not sure to what you’re referencing,” Jakes pushed back. “We’re all about transparency on this board. Are you suggesting there’s something inappropriate going on?”

Several of the members around him suddenly looked uncomfortable, squirming in their seats. Oh yeah. They all knew what O’Shea was talking about. They’d just been told… No, probably ordered to squelch it, upon pain of…what? Dismissal from the board? Implications that they had direct involvement? Threats that they might “disappear”?

O’Shea dug in. “I was going over the current town report earlier before the meeting, and noted on page two-hundred fourteen that you’d just undergone an audit, and it—”

“Exactly who are you, anyway?” Jakes interrupted. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“O’Shea,” she answered, trying to charge forward again. “I’m just concerned—”

But Jakes was the one with the microphone.

“Are you a citizen of our fine town?” he questioned sourly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

“It’s a big town,” O’Shea rebutted, “and I’ve just moved in.”

“What’s your address?” he probed relentlessly.

“I don’t think that has any bearing—”

“Clearly then, you’re not a citizen. Officers!” He snapped, beckoning to the two uniforms at the front doors. “Will you please see this woman out of the hall. She’s disrupting our proceedings.”

****

O’Shea had known then, it was time to ditch, and now she was attempting to make herself scarce, but it wasn’t going well. Looking back at the pair of cops trying to wend their way through the crowd, she was happy to see they weren’t making easy headway. But when she glanced back toward the stage, she saw Jakes gesture behind the curtains, and two more cops strode to his side.

There was whispering as O’Shea weaved her way toward the door she’d spotted, then Jakes, along with the pair, began perusing the auditorium.

He spotted her almost at once, and pointed. Those cops immediately started pursuit.

Dammit. She wasn’t going to make it.

The best she could do, was…

O’Shea almost laughed. A line from her favorite Christmas movie popped into her head. The best way to spread Christmas cheer, is singing loud for all to hear .

Well, it wasn’t Christmas, and she couldn’t sing, but she damn well knew how to be loud.

“Read the town report,” she yelled vehemently over the low din that had arisen. “Something isn’t right. Page two-hundred fourteen. There’s a shortfall of almost a half a million dollars.”

There were gasps all around, and people started leaping from their seats, voices raised toward the stage.

It was just the distraction O’Shea needed. She sprinted for the door, with a number of people helping her clear the aisle. She said thank-you a dozen or more times, and had just pushed her way through to the outside when an arm caught her from behind.

Shit.

“Stop right there,” a voice growled. She turned. It was one of the cops from the stage.

O’Shea weighed her options. Fight, or go passively?

If she fought, things could get ugly. She could be thrown in jail not only for disorderly conduct, but for resisting an officer, and any other bullshit charges they wanted to throw at her. After which she’d be easily discredited for everything she’d said inside tonight, along with—she was sure—the town website being made swiftly and unsurprisingly “not available”.

If she went without a fight, she might be able to walk away without anyone getting hurt. And by anyone, she meant them.

Yup. Passive it was.

She didn’t try to jerk away from the hand gripping her arm in a bruising hold, nor would she give the cop the pleasure of seeing her wince.

“Hello officer,” she said politely turning her head to the cop holding her, only to see another uniform poised by the once again partially open door. “I take it you’ve come to escort me off the property?”

“Shut it,” her captor in blue growled, not even trying to be nice. “You have the right to remain silent…”

“Wait. Huh?” O’Shea was shocked. He wasn’t really going to…?

“I’m being arrested? For what?”

There were several townspeople hanging back who looked interested in that answer, too.

“Trespassing, and disturbing the peace,” the cop said without blinking, then continued with her Miranda rights.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” O’Shea snarled as she was harshly hauled away from the auditorium. She now had officer asshole on one side of her, and the newcomer on the other. They were herding her toward their squad car.

“You know this is bullshit, right?” She sent her plea to the more reasonable looking of the two officers; the one who wasn’t leaving his prints on her bicep. “ Anyone has the right to attend an open town forum even if they aren’t a resident. And clearly I wasn’t disturbing the peace, because I waited until the end of Jakes’ interminable speech to make my point during the open Q and A session.”

O’Shea received no answer, but the prick-cop stopped them for a moment, yanked her hands behind her back, and cuffed her.

“Seriously? I’m being restrained?” O’Shea’s anger was building, and that wasn’t a good thing. She needed to cap that rumbling volcano because an eruption would do her no good. She took a deep breath. “I’ll give you a chance to rethink your actions here. I’d hate to imagine that two fine officers of the law were going to go down with Barnie Jakes’ sinking ship.”

“What’s that?” Bad cop shook her. “Now you’re threatening an officer?” The dour cop sneered.

“Oh, it wasn’t a threat,” O’Shea clipped. “It was a promise. You may think you have immunity because of who you work for, but I’ve seen this all before. Believe me, it never ends well for the guy who imagines himself in charge, or those who blindly follow him. And of course,” she smiled sweetly at both her escorts, “I have your badge numbers memorized, so when Jakes’ town takeover fails, you’ll be implicated right along with him.”

“Shut the fuck up,” cop number one said, but O’Shea noted that cop number two was backing off.

“Uh, Delaney? If you’ve got this, I’ll uh, head back in to make sure order is restored.”

Delaney clipped. “Don’t let this bitch spook you, O’Reilly. She’s just flapping her gums. She’s nobody to be scared of.”

“Or so you’d like to think,” O’Shea winked at O’Reilly.

Without warning, O’Shea got shoved forward. The nasty cop deliberately stuck a foot out in front of her, and with her hands restrained, O’Shea pitched forward. She couldn’t save herself from falling, but she deftly avoided injuring her face by turning her body and landing on her shoulder instead.

“Ooof.” The hard-packed ground was damned unforgiving. She’d have bruises up and down her arm, for sure.

“Cripes, Delaney. Do you think that’s necessary?” O’Reilly huffed.

“She was asking for it,” his partner clipped.

O’Reilly, the coward, instead of sticking around to make sure O’Shea wasn’t about to be hurt again, turned back and went inside without another word.

“Thanks for nothing dickhead,” O’Shea called after him.

Her short fuse was still burning. She looked up at the remaining officer and snapped. “I suppose you’re going to kick me while I’m down, too?”

“Not a bad idea.”

Delaney hauled back with his big boot, and aimed a kick at her gut, but O’Shea rolled at the last minute and the blow clipped her hip.

She grunted at the impact, but before the prick could deduce what she was about, O’Shea lifted her feet, wrapped them around Delaney’s calves, and yanked hard.

Timber.

The scumbag tumbled to the ground next to her, and he did do a face-plant.

“Not so tough, now, are you?” O’Shea taunted.

She knew she’d made a risky move, knowing retribution would be swift and rough, but it still made her feel better that the cop had eaten dirt.

Delaney slowly rose to his knees beside her. “You are so going to regret that,” he snarled, wiping his hand across his dirty mouth.

O’Shea was heartened to see blood. He must have cut the inside of his mouth with his teeth when he’d fallen. Not the extent of injury that O’Shea was hoping for, but it would do.

Helpless now, O’Shea waited to see what the rotten cop would do next.

Sure enough, Delaney reached out and grabbed a fistful of O’Shea’s hair with one hand, while cocking back his opposite fist.

Fuck. O’Shea braced for a punch to the face that would probably break bones.

“Hey! What the fuck is going on?”

Yes ! It was the last voice on earth O’Shea expected to hear, but it was one-hundred percent the most welcome.

Delaney looked at the newcomer and barked. “Move along, if you know what’s good for you.”

“Not when I see you abusing a person who’s on the ground and restrained,” Billboard glowered. “Now let her go.”

Luckily, instead of landing the punch he’d been planning, Delaney did as Billboard suggested, released her hair, and slowly got up.

“You see this?” He pointed to his bloody mouth. “This is what the bitch did to me after we cuffed her. She’s dangerous.”

O’Shea looked up at Billboard and gave him a sassy grin accompanied by a shrug.

Billboard snorted. “Nice one, O’Shea.”

“Well, he was asking for it,” she defended. “He tripped me, then kicked my hip.”

Billboard growled, his eyes practically shooting sparks at the cop.

Delaney, looking incredulous, snapped at Billboard. “You know this person?” he questioned bitingly.

“I do.” Billboard stepped forward a few feet, closing the gap between him and Delaney; crossing his arms over his massive chest. “But I don’t know you.”

Up close, it looked like Delaney wanted to take exception to Billboard’s presence, but clearly he could see it would be no contest if BB wanted to resist. Billboard had five inches and easily fifty pounds on the guy. Still, Delaney wasn’t backing down.

“So, you’re an accomplice then,” the cop accused.

“An accomplice?” Billboard snarled. “To what?”

Fuck. O’Shea grumbled. Way to go, Delany-jerk-face. Why did assholes always ramp things up? Was it a power trip? A boost to their ego? Or…

This might distract the crooked cop. “Hey. Delaney. How big is your penis, anyway?” O’Shea asked him. “I bet it’s a wee, baby one,” she taunted with mock sadness.

Billboard rolled his eyes. “O’Shea,” he warned. “You’re not making things any better.”

“Yeah, well, he was going to arrest me after causing me bodily injury, so I’m just trying to figure out what his problem is,” she returned snidely.

“Yeah,” Billboard’s dark orbs narrowed at the officer. “Back to that. What is your problem. And would you care to pick on someone who’s not cuffed?” Billboard flexed his shoulders.

Delaney, true to what O’Shea had sussed out of his nature, hit his mic instead of taking Billboard on. “I need immediate backup,” he yelped. “The town hall auditorium, near the rear doors. Two uncooperative perps, one restrained, The one who’s not is to be considered dangerous,” he added.

“See, Billboard?” O’Shea said from the ground. “I was right. He’s just a scared, tiny-penised, little man.”

“Well, at least he won’t get in any more shots on you,” Billboard assured her, purposely relaxing his body and going to an at-ease position, waiting for the rest of the posse to show up. “Because if you’re getting arrested, I plan on being booked right alongside you to make sure you’re safe.”

O’Shea’s heart suddenly felt lighter than it had in a long time. “Aww, Billboard, that’s just about the sweetest thing anybody’s ever done for me.”

Billboard huffed. “Get used to it, O’Shea. I plan on being up your ass for as long as you’ll stick around.”

O’Shea grinned. Yes ! Still, she couldn’t help but tease. “I like the sentiment, big guy, but that’s not my first choice of holes, Maybe, however, if you ask nicely…” She trailed off, looking up at Delany who was clearly grossed out and having a hard time dealing with their witty banter.

Of course. Because the bully-types never found fun in anything.

Hearing pounding footsteps approaching, O’Shea watched Billboard tense slightly.

She couldn’t see the official back-up approaching because of her prone position, but as soon as she spotted the three cops, guns up and trained on Billboard, her mood shot to furious again.

“Weapons drawn? You’ve got to be kidding me?” If she wasn’t restrained, she’d go all ninja on their clueless asses. The trio ignored her.

“Get down,” they ordered Billboard. “Down!”

Billboard quickly put his hands behind his head and dropped to his knees.

One cop approached, and swiftly cuffed him.

Billboard didn’t seem flustered. As a matter of fact, when he spoke there wasn’t a trace of anger in his steady tone.

“Can I ask what I’m being arrested for?” he questioned easily.

“Interfering with the arrest of a dangerous felon,” Delany took up the gauntlet and spat.

“Dangerous felon,” O’Shea laughed evilly, giving him the stink-eye. “I wish. If I were, you wouldn’t just be sporting a tiny widdew tooth-cut in your mouth.”

She turned to the other cops who’d restrained Billboard. “Just a heads-up. Here’s what your man Delaney is up to. I spoke during a Q and A session inside. The boss of the selectboard didn’t like what I said, so I left. Peaceably. But Delaney here decided to follow me out. He cuffed me, tripped me, then kicked me while I was down. That’s when I wrapped my feet around his legs so he wouldn’t nail me again, and unfortunately for him, he wasn’t very steady on his feet, and he went down. It wasn’t my fault he bit the inside of his cheek on impact.”

“She’s telling the truth.”

That’s when O’Shea saw a number of bystanders next to the auditorium door, their phones out, recording the entire situation.

She glanced over at Billboard who grunted. “You’ve got video of him kicking her?”

Several people nodded.

“Thanks,” he told them, then turned to glare at Delaney. “Just so you know. Nobody kicks my woman and gets away with it.”

What? Billboard did not just say that.

Halleluiah . The man was finally staking his claim.

Billboard snarled at the men in blue, which had now grown to five officers. “I suggest the rest of you don’t try anything physical, or it will all be caught on phones. Delaney here,” he canted his head toward the cop who now looked a little green, “is going to regret his actions when our lawyer gets a hold of him.”

Yeah. O’Shea silently cheered. SOS must have an amaze-balls lawyer.

The group of officers, however, was not so spooked. They’d done nothing wrong except respond to a fellow officer’s call for assistance.

“On your feet, both of you,” the weapon-wielding cop ordered, but he wasn’t quite as wild with his gun as he’d been before.

O’Shea and Billboard both complied, rising slowly.

O’Shea snorted as they were marched toward the paddy-wagon.

It looked like—at least for the immediate future—she and Billboard were headed to jail.