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    After everyone had departed from the
scene, Ivy was alone in front of Cullen’s home, shell-shocked and defeated.
    She’d refused to so much as speak to her
mother, and after a few minutes of being studiously ignored, the older woman
had left, along with the police and the bystanders that had gathered
temporarily to watch Cullen being arrested.
    Now that the initial shock was wearing
off, Ivy was standing there with the dawning realization that she had to do
something.  
    Someone had to help Cullen get free from
this mess once again.
    And then, Ivy remembered Cullen’s
brilliant attorney, whom she’d met briefly at the precinct.
    She found him through a quick Google
search on her phone.
    Drake Bennett, Criminal Defense Attorney.
    Immediately, Ivy dialed the number and
prayed he would be in the office.
    A secretary answered and informed Ivy
that Drake was not currently available, but asked if she could take a message.
    Ivy said that it was an emergency, and that
Cullen Sharpe was involved.   “I’m
Cullen Sharpe’s wife and I promise you, this is important. I’m quite sure
Mister Bennett will want to hear this right away,” Ivy said.
    “Hold please,” the secretary replied.
    Just moments later, the attorney came on
the line, and he sounded concerned.   “Ivy Spellman?” Drake asked.   “I understand there’s been some kind of emergency?”
    Immediately, Ivy explained to him that
Cullen had been arrested again.   When she was done explaining, Drake Bennett fell silent for a long time.
    When he spoke again, his tone of voice
was not optimistic.
    “This is not good,” he sighed.   “To be arrested a second time—it’s
worst case scenario.”
      “So what now?” Ivy said.   “I mean , there
must be something you can do.”
    “Cullen’s developing a very bad
reputation, Miss Spellman,” Drake continued.   “And I’m afraid he has plenty of enemies
ready to capitalize on that reputation.”
    “But he’s innocent,” Ivy said.   “Cullen didn’t hurt me at all and I told
the police as much.”
    “Obviously, the police aren’t in
agreement with your version of things,” Drake said.   “And I can’t just get Cullen out of jail
with the snap of my fingers.   I
pulled a few strings to get him a video arraignment last time.   That’s not going to fly again.   He’s going to sit in jail for at least
twenty-four hours and then we’ll have to hope they set bail.”
    “I don’t understand,” Ivy said.   “You think they won’t set bail?   What does that even mean?”
    “It means, the government of the United
States is very angry with your husband, and so are some other powerful
people.   He could be considered a
flight risk, given his father’s history and their perceived involvement with
one another.   Now, do I think the
court will deny him bail?   Anything’s
possible.”
    “We have to do something, though,” Ivy
said.   
    “Unless you have connections with the
federal government or the chief of police, I don’t think there’s much to be
done right now except to wait and hope he gets lucky with the judge.”
    Ivy felt defeated and frightened by the
somber tone of Cullen’s lawyer.   He
was supposed to be the best, and he painted a very bleak picture of Cullen’s
situation.
    After she’d gotten off the phone with
him, she sat on the front steps of Cullen’s home and had a good, long cry.
    It was only as she was drying her tears
that she looked up and saw a blurry figure in front of her.
    “Please just go away,” she murmured,
sniffling.   When she dried her eyes
and could see better, she realized who it was that had shown up.
    Unsurprisingly, Peg Woodhouse standing
there.   The woman was like a ghost
it seemed, always skulking near Cullen’s home, waiting to ambush anyone who
would listen.
    She was smoking a cigarette and looking worn
and haggard, but her eyes were covered by dark sunglasses .   She raised an eyebrow and blew a cloud
of smoke from her