Always on the Run

3. Backfired

Hi guys, I am so truly sorry once again for the delay. You know the story from my last update. My step-nana passed away two weeks ago but my Grandad is still spiralling out of control. His dementia has been made worse from the stress. So with constant visits to the hospital and general stress from all that's going on, writing has been the furthest thing from my mind.

However, an update is finally here. I hope you will forgive me for the delay. Grandad is still very unwell but there is not much we can do apart from be there for him. Therefore, my life is slowly starting to have a little bit of normality to it and I should be able to get back into a proper routine again.

I hope you enjoy this chapter.

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The police officer looks me up and down with a critical eye. I hold my breath and tilt my chin slightly to give off a sense of confidence. I just hope like hell he can’t see how petrified I am deep down. I feel sick with the thought of what I’m doing here.

“Jamie Finnegan, you say?” he finally asks gruffly, looking over the glasses that sit on the tip of his nose.

I nod and give him the saddest face I can muster. “Yes sir, that’s him. He was arrested last night but he shouldn’t have been. He’s totally innocent.”

He raises a bushy eyebrow and pushes the glasses up his nose. “Is that so?” he asks as he looks down at a book.

“Yes it is! He’s a lovely man, that Jamie. We get on so well! He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Looking up again, the officer has a smirk on his face. “Really? Well, I’ll see what I can find out for you. Wait here.”

When he walks off, I release a breath of air and smooth down the dress I’m wearing. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m certain the identity Jamie gave me, a young pale faced, red-haired girl, wasn’t supposed to be this dumb. I suppose that’s what happens when I freak out when talking to the cops on the phone.

I catch my reflection in the glass and swallow nervously. To anyone on the outside, I look like a normal person. No one would know I was wearing a mask. Yet despite that, I feel totally conspicuous. These were professionals here, what if they were taught how to tell if someone was wearing a disguise?

Yes I know the person I spoke to told me not to come down but did you really think I would listen? I need to try and get Jamie out of here. Nothing else matters right now.

Tearing my eyes away, I step forward to the counter. I look around to ensure no one is looking then I rest my elbows on it and lean forward so I can see inside the office. Perhaps I can spot Jamie? It’s a typical office really. Open plan with lots of people milling about but not paying any attention to the front desk. There are interview rooms at the back but there are no windows.

Something catches my eye to the left but it’s difficult to see. I lean forward some more so that my feet lift off the floor. That’s when I spot a small, dark corridor to my left which leads to a wrought iron door. Is that where the holding cell is? Is Jamie there? My heart rate picks up at this thought. I wonder if I can sneak in somehow.

Yeah? I bet the doors locked, then what would you do?

I don’t even have time to contemplate this when I hear someone clearing their throat. My pounding heart suddenly stops as I sense a presence next to me. Well this isn’t awkward at all! Slowly turning my head to the right, I see a tall, well-built policeman standing there with his arms folded across his broad chest. He does not look at all amused.

“Can I help you?” he asks snobbishly, looking at me with distaste.

“Uh…” I slide backwards so my feet land on the floor then I stand up straight and smooth down my dress. My face feels hot from embarrassment. “…Uh, I’m here to see—”