Next thing I see somebody outside the door. The flight attendant who spoke moves toward the door and opens it.
Standing outside are two uniformed police officers. Next thing I know the flight attendant is pointing at Damien and me.
My heart skips a beat as they walk over to us.
"Mr. Cage," says one of the officers. "Please come with us."
"What's all this about, officer?" says Damien.
"We will explain. Just please come with us."
Damien looks at me with a solemn expression and gets up.
The officer on the right takes out his handcuffs and starts to put them on Damien.
"Hey!" I say. "What's going on?"
"Am I being arrested, officer?" says Damien.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Cage," says the first one. "But yes you are. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."
"This is ridiculous!" I say, a torrent of anger rising within me. "What is he being arrested for?"
"Annika," says Damien. "It's okay. Don't worry about it."
"But this isn't right! There's some kind of mistake!"
I'm right up in the first policeman's face. He places his arm on my shoulder, pushing me back.
"Don't touch me!" I say, slapping his hand away.
They lead Damien to the door. I grab my hipster satchel and his carry-on and follow them.
Once we're in the terminal, I see a squat Latino man with tight short black curls. He's wearing a brown sportcoat, light blue shirt, blue striped tie, tan slacks, and brown shoes.
"Annika Spenser," he says.
I recognize the voice.
"Detective Gomez," I say. "All the fucking way from Brimford, Massachusetts, huh?!"
"I want to thank you," he says with a snarky smile. "The last person we would have ever considered for the murder of a two-bit thug is a rock star who lives on a bayfront estate in Miami. But thanks to you, justice is being served."
I slap his face. Hard.
He looks down.
"Miss Spenser," he says, "I understand you're upset so I'll overlook that. But don't force me to arrest you."
"He didn't do it!" I say. "He told me what really happened."
"Of course, Miss Spenser. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get Mr. Cage booked here so we can take him into custody in Massachusetts."
I run to catch up with Damien.
"Damien!" I shout.
"Annika," he says, "get hold of Jasmine. She knows what to do."
As we emerge onto the street, what seems like a million cameras click.
Oh God no.
The fucking paparazzi!
Reporters are everywhere. TMZ. The Smoking Gun. Access Hollywood. Rolling Stone. All to get a glimpse of the famous rock star Damien Cage.
Frontman for the Platinum-selling band Eon Sphinx.
As he is shoved into the back seat of a Miami-Dade police cruiser.
Arrested for murder.