“Step aside, Ace. You don’t want to do this.”
“I’m doing nothing but asking a question. Why are you arresting her?”
“Miss Thornton is under arrest for arson.”
“Arson!” My screech makes the officer flinch. “I didn’t set that fire. There was a man…”
“Ace mentioned your account—”
“Yes, that’s damn straight, I mentioned it.” Asher continues to block Detective Malone. “She was assaulted and nearly died in that fire.”
“Ace, I’m going to have to ask you to step aside.”
“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”
Grant Malone shakes his head and sighs. “Look, Ace, forensics just came in. The accelerant is all over her stuff, fingerprints on the lighter fuel—”
“My fingerprints?” My heart speeds up and I look frantically between the two men. “Asher, I swear I didn’t touch any of that stuff. That man wrapped rags around the bases of the bushes. He doused them with lighter fluid. It wasn’t me.”
“I’m sorry, Miss, but I need to remind you anything you say can be used against you in a court of law.” He pulls out a small card from his breast pocket and proceeds to read me my Miranda rights while I stare back, mouth agape and heart lodged in my throat.
This can’t be happening.
I glance at Asher as Detective Malone pulls out a set of cuffs.
“I need to call Prescott.” My voice shakes and my hands tremble.
“You’ll have a chance to make a call at the precinct.” The officer cuffs me, being exceptionally gentle considering the bandages which still cover most of my arms.
“Asher,” I say, “call Prescott. Tell him what’s going on.”
“Why Prescott?” He looks confused.
“It’s the only number on my phone.” I give him my four-digit passcode. There’s nothing on that phone I need to worry about. I’m only concerned about the conversation Asher is going to have with Prescott.
“Do you really have to cuff her, Grant?” Asher takes a step forward, but one look from the detective and he retreats. I can tell he’s unsure, but this is something we’ll get sorted out.
“It’s okay, Asher. Please just call Prescott. He will help me.”
“Sorry, Ace, it’s standard procedure.” Grant Malone glances around the room. “Are there any personal belongings you need to take?”
There’s nothing in my hospital room except for the bag of ruined clothes. I give a sharp shake of my head. “No.”
The detective presses his lips into a thin line. “See you around, Ace.”
“You can damn well bet on that.” Asher blocks Grant Malone and pulls me tight to his chest. “We’ll figure this out. I’m going to find out what the fuck is happening, then I’ll meet you at the station. Okay?”
“Call Prescott.” My words are terse, strained, and I’m barely keeping it together. Prescott will know what to do. He’ll bring the full force of his protective fatherly instincts and impeccable skill as a trial attorney to help me out.
For the first time, in a very long time, I not only need his help, I want it.
“I will.” He cups my chin. “Be brave, little backpack.”
I’m overloaded and tears spill down my cheeks. The brave face I put on for Asher is a facade; I’m scared.
How do I prove my innocence?
What evidence do they have against me?
My fingerprints were found on the bottle of accelerant? How?
Nothing makes sense.
“Okay.” I nod because it’s all I can think to do, but what if it’s not okay?
10
Asher
More than a little pissed off, I follow Grant to the station in my truck. He has my girl on trumped up charges for arson. Whatever evidence they found, they didn’t see the terror in Evelyn’s eyes when she told me what happened.
A man assaulted her, and I don’t see anyone looking for him.
Grant gives a sharp shake of his head when he sees I followed him. He leaves Evelyn in the car and approaches my truck. “You need to go.”
“Why? Am I under arrest?”
Grant pushes his fingers through his hair and does an amazing job maintaining his cool. He senses I want to pop him in the face, kick his legs out from under him, and take him to the ground. That does no one any good, so I keep my shit locked down tight.
“You have no right arresting her, and shit, Grant…” It’s my turn to pause. “Did you have to do it at the hospital?”
“When would you have had me do it, Ace?” He glances at the car. “Look, I’m just doing my job.”
“A piss poor job from the looks of it. She didn’t start that fire.” I feel the truth in my gut.
“The investigation concluded yesterday. It’s pretty cut and dry.”
“I was there. Fuck, you didn’t see the look in her eyes, the fear, the terror…”
“I would think those could be explained by getting caught starting the fire.”
“She wasn’t scared she’d been caught, she was trying to survive.”
“Anything you have to add is nothing more than hearsay, and you know that won’t hold up. Now, please…” Grant places his hand on the butt of his weapon. It’s not a threat, but the message is clear.
I’m pushing him. It places him in a difficult position. Grant is my friend, but more through association. His brother, Grady, is my real friend, Grant is simply Grady’s older brother, the one we all looked up to.
“Who headed the investigation?” A thousand questions spill through my head, ways I can help Evelyn clear her name.
“Pete Sims.”
“You’re fucking kidding me. He’s a joke. Come on, you know how he works.”
“I also know what they found. Her fingerprints are on the bottle of accelerant, and they found receipts for it in the remains of her things.”
I give a sharp shake of my head. “I don’t care. You’re wrong. He’s wrong. He never visited her in the hospital, never took her account. He never spoke to me. It’s circumstantial at best.”
“Look, if you want to help her, get her a good lawyer, but don’t get in my way.” As the oldest of the Malone brothers, the trifecta of public service heroes, I grew up respecting Grant Malone. He’s the man who could do no wrong, the kid I wanted to be growing up. “If you need help finding her someone, come by the house later today and I’ll give you a few names.”
He doesn’t have to offer that. My respect increases tenfold. It’s his way of throwing me a bone, helping me when his hands are tied.
“Thanks. I might take you up on that.”
“Sorry about this, Ace, but are you sure you want to stand by her side? How well do you know her?”
He knows our story, how I pulled her from the fire. His brother, Grayson flew her to the hospital. I have no doubt they’ve talked about her, and nothing happens in Sunnyville without the whole town knowing about it, meaning my daily visits to her in the hospital are a matter of public record.
I don’t understand the strange pull Evelyn has on me, except it’s profound and all encompassing. I want to help her. I need to defend her. I’m the only one who seems to be on her side.
“I know she didn’t do it.” I stand my ground.
“Then find something to prove it.” Grant isn’t backing down.
His convictions are as strong as mine, except this one time, we find ourselves on opposite sides of a confrontation. It’s a tough place to be. I’m not used to being at odds with him.
My brothers and I followed in the Malone brothers’ shadows. The Malone’s are men I respect and admire. I call each of them friend. Their father was the chief of police and his sons followed in his footsteps, choosing to serve their community in police, fire, and rescue.
Grant is on the police force, making a name for himself as an upstanding man. When the time comes, I have no doubt he’ll become the chief of police.
Grady saves lives, fighting the fires which threaten our ho
mes and our lives. And then there’s Grayson, a medivac pilot who flies the wounded where they need to go, sometimes at great personal risk to himself.
These are not men I want to be at odds with. I respect them and I don’t want to change any of that.
But I will.
I’ll jeopardize all of that for Evelyn and I don’t understand why. Or rather, I’m too chickenshit to face a sobering truth. I’m falling for my little backpack and my need to defend her is unwavering.
“I pulled her from that fire. You can’t fake that kind of fear. She thought I was him, coming to finish her off. I feel it in here.” I point over my heart and thump my chest. “You know Open-and-Shut Pete. No way did he do due diligence.”
“Then how? How did her prints get on the bottle of lighter fluid? Why is there a charred receipt buried in the bottom of her backpack for the purchase of the accelerant? I’m going to be honest here, it doesn’t look good.” Grant purses his lips and I sense his frustration. I also sense something else. He’s not happy with the investigative report either.
“Pete Sims?” I give a shake of my head. “He’s a bureaucratic waste of space, more concerned with closing cases than solving them.”
Grant’s brother, Grady, never says anything good about Pete and I have a mind to take this all the way up the chain if need be.
“Doesn’t matter. The evidence—”
“Is rigged.” I’m acutely aware she’s still sitting in the back of Grant’s police cruiser. “When can I see her?”
What’s going through her head? How is she holding up? Does she know I have her back and will do whatever it takes to see her through this?
“Later, Ace. Come back in the morning.”
My stomach seizes thinking about Evelyn spending the night in jail. Our town is small. The holding cells are generally empty, but still. It’s jail.
“How long will it take to post bail?”
“I don’t know.” He scratches his head. “Considering it’s Friday, probably not until Monday.”
“You’re not helping me out here.” My frustration builds.
“I’m not trying to be difficult. Look, I have to book her, but I’ll call the judge and see if he can expedite the posting of her bond. I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything. Until then, be patient.”
“Would you be patient if this was Emerson?” Emerson is his wife, and it may be a low blow to bring her into this conversation. He’s insanely protective of her.
“Fair enough. Look, I’ll let you know as soon as I can, but it probably won’t be until morning. Sorry, but that’s the best I can do.”
I run a hand through my hair, feeling helpless. “Thanks, Grant.”
He gives a slight nod. “I promise. I’ll let you know.”
Without another word, he leaves me to collect Evelyn. My entire body itches with the need to go to her, hold her, and tell her everything is going to be all right, but I stand there helpless as Grant takes her inside.
She glances over her shoulder and gives me a strained smile. She’s trying to be brave, but there’s fear in her eyes.
If I can’t get her out tonight, there’s one thing I can do. My hand slips into my pocket where I hold her phone. She asked me to call Prescott.
I lift the phone and tap the security code to open it up. She seems to think he can help and right now, I can use all the help I can get.
The phone picks up on the first ring. “Evie? Hunny, what’s up?”
The voice on the other end is older, mature, and I’m envisioning what my father might have sounded like if he were still alive. It’s been years since his passing. My grief has lost its raw edge, but I never know when that sharp ache is going to hit. This man’s voice is like a punch in the gut and it takes a moment before I recover.
“Evie?”
“This is Asher La Rouge. Is this Prescott?”
“Asher?” He plays it off like he’s confused, but we’ve spoken before and this man blew me off, choosing to send Evelyn’s things via courier to the hospital rather than entrust them to me. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
I grit my teeth and remind myself to be the better man. “Evelyn asked me to call you. There have been some—developments.”
“Developments?” He makes a disparaging sound. “I’d like to speak with Evie, please.”
“That won’t be possible.”
“Excuse me?” My reply finally gets his attention. I can tell by the tick in his voice. “What have you done to Evie?”
What have I done?
The man says it like an accusation, as if I hurt her rather than saved her life. He damn well knows exactly who I am. As for what I’ve done to Evelyn? It’s not nearly enough.
I’m not stupid enough to say that out loud. I still don’t know who this man is to her, or why I’m supposed to call him.
“Sir, Evelyn asked me to call you, but before I do, who exactly are you to her?” I don’t mind lobbing a volley of my own. If this man is going to challenge me and my place with Evelyn, I’m going to do exactly the same.
Evelyn is mine.
It’s a truth I accept whole-heartedly and the fact it makes no sense at all, considering how we’re still virtual strangers to each other, is exactly why it feels so damn right.
I’ll defend her, because I believe she’s not at fault for that fire. I feel it in my bones and I’ve seen it in her eyes. She’s not capable of such blatant disregard for life. Her heart is too pure.
“Who am I?” Shock fills his words and his indignation spills through the line. “Who are you?”
“I’m the one looking out for her and I’m not interested in getting into a pissing contest. Evelyn asked me to call you. I gave my word I would, but I need to know who you are to her before I tell you what’s going on.”
“Son.” His tone is disparaging, but full of protective male instincts. More than anything, that tells me all I need to know to trust this man, “I don’t know who you are, or what your relationship is with our Evie, but if she asked you to call me, I can only assume she needs my help. Evie never calls, she’s too damn independent. That she asked a stranger tells me something is terribly wrong. As far as who I am, Gracie and I are old family friends. Now, how about we get down to business?”
There’s silence on his end while I absorb what he says. I sense a deep connection between him and Evelyn, one steeped in the weight of years, something I’d be wise to acknowledge and respect. He calls her Evie and she said it was a childhood nickname. If I want Evelyn in my life, and I’m pretty damn sure that’s what I want, this man will be a part of that future.
“Evelyn has been arrested for arson. The preliminary investigation implicates her in starting the fire.”
“Arrested!” The protective growl which follows silences any doubts I have about who this man is to Evelyn. He wants to protect her too. This makes us allies. “And what are your thoughts on this?”
“She didn’t do it.” The words tumble out with zero hesitation. “I believe her innocence and I’ll prove it.”
“Good. She needs someone on her side.” He says something to someone else, covering the mic so I can’t hear anything but muffled sounds. A few seconds later, he’s back. “Tell Evie, we’ll be there in the morning.”
“She needs an attorney.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“No.” My response is as immediate as it is visceral. “I’ll take care of her.”
My reply silences him for a moment, but then he’s back to business. “Who’s holding her?”
I give him the name of our local sheriff’s department.
“I’ll call the judge. Gracie and I’ll be there first thing in the morning.”
Call the judge?
Like anyone can pick up the phone and make that call.
“Sunnyville is a small town. I can recommend a few places.”
“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. Please tell Evie we’ll be there in the morning.”
“I have h
er phone. Until they let her out, she won’t be able to contact you.”
“That won’t be a problem, son.”
My shoulders bunch when he calls me son. It borders on being derogatory, as if he’s an old dog letting a young pup know his place. I’m cool with that, because I know exactly where my place is in all of this.
“As soon as her bond is posted, we’ll sort this out. In the meantime, please let her know Gracie and I are on our way.”
“I will.”
Our call ends and I stand in the parking lot unsure about what to do. I should leave.
Grant told me he’d do what he could, but the thought of leaving Evelyn all alone is too much.
Then an idea hits me. Prescott mentioned calling the judge, like it’s nothing, but what if I visited the judge?
I’ll need an introduction, and I know exactly who to call. If Grant can’t help, maybe his father, our ex-chief of police, can. I hop in my truck and head to the Malone’s. I spent a fair amount of my childhood in their house.
When I knock, Mrs. Malone answers. “Why, Ace, how are you doing?”
“I’m good, ma’am.” I give her my best smile. “I was wondering if Chief is home?”
I’m certain the man has a first name, but all the kids called him ‘Chief’ growing up, and Mr. Malone just sounds plain wrong.
“He’s out back by the grill.” She doesn’t ask why I want to speak to her husband, but there’s curiosity in her soft gaze. “Come on in. We’re making hamburgers and hotdogs. Do you want to stay for dinner?”
Mrs. Malone never fails to welcome anyone. With three sons, her house was always filled with kids when we were growing up. I’m sure most of that has changed, although Grayson has a kid and Grant just got hitched. I guess her home will be filled with grandkids.
I don’t want to impose, but my stomach decides to rumble. She waves me inside.
“Come in, Ace. Do you want a beer?”
It’s weird, her offering me a beer. It was always juice or soda growing up, but with the day I’m having, I could use a beer.
“That would be great.”
“Go on out back. Chief is out there and I’ll bring you something to drink.”
Firestorm: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World) Page 10
