Laura's hearing

After my mugshots were taken, I was handed the grimy receiver for my single phone call. My fingers flew over the keypad before I'd even fully processed the numbers, instinctively dialing Rebecca's work line. The cold metal bench bit into my bare thighs as I waited, legs bouncing with nervous energy.

"Pick up, damn it…" I muttered through clenched teeth, listening to that infuriating dial tone stretch on endlessly. Behind me, I could feel the lecherous gazes of the deputies boring into my exposed curves. Their poorly concealed snickers and exaggerated throat-clearing told me exactly where their attention had wandered.

With as much dignity as I could muster, I stood up, and turned to face the pockmarked cinder-block wall, pressing the receiver tighter to my ear. Unfortunately, they didn't seem to mind the change in angle. Their claim about the station being out of prisoner uniforms was probably bullshit—but you never could tell with smaller town stations.

Finally, Rebecca's robotic voicemail greeting clicked on. My stomach dropped. All the carefully prepared pleas and bargaining chips I'd lined up died in my throat. I slammed the receiver back into it's cradle without leaving a message. What was the point? Rebecca was either tied up with something, or she was still pissed about my abandoning her in that alleyway.

It wasn't long before I was dragged over to the town's courthouse. Pedro was sitting in the gallery grinning, along with the fishermen and their wives, and at least half of the people from the beach changing huts. My heart fell as the Judge took her seat. It was the blonde woman I had accosted at the spa — now clad in judicial robes — glaring down at me with the cold satisfaction of someone who had just won the lottery.

"Your third public disturbance today," the judge drawled, tapping her pen against the case file. "And yet, you claim this is all some elaborate conspiracy?"

I clenched my jaw, trying to look as dignified as possible while clutching my intimates like a graceless Venus.

"With all due respect, Your Honor—"

"Oh, there is zero respect in this courtroom today, Ms. García." The judge leaned forward, smirking. "Especially not after you splayed me like a starfish for all the town to see." A murmur of amusement rippled through the spectators.

"This was a setup!" I snapped. "The Queen of Pranks stole my car, sabotaged the fishing contest—"

"And toppled the changing huts at the beach? Made you pleasure yourself with a garden hose? Made you **** a judge?" The judge arched a brow. "The police found no evidence of this 'Queen' you insist exists. No fingerprints. No surveillance. Just you, running buck-naked through my town like a rabid ferret."

I opened my mouth to argue, but the judge cut me off with a crisp thwack of the gavel, delivering my sentence.