“Whad’ya do?” the woman said in a heavy redneck accent.
Hollie knew she had to answer even though she didn’t want to talk. “They think I killed my stepbrother.”
The woman smirked. “I suppose you’re innocent.”
“I didn’t kill him.” Hollie knew she shouldn’t show any weakness by crying, but she was having a hard time holding tears back.
“I’m Gert.” The woman crouched beside Hollie and pointed at the squirming woman. “That’s Amber. She’s in here for selling crack and she’s got the DTs.” She inclined her head toward the woman on the bed. “The bitch on the bed is Mary and she killed a family of four while driving drunk.” Gert focused her attention on Hollie. “What’s your name?”
Hollie swallowed. “Hollie.”
“Well, Hollie. You look too goody-goody for your own good.” The woman’s face was unreadable. “What’d you do for a living?”
Hollie’s shoulders sagged. “I’m a kindergarten teacher.”
“We’ve got ourselves an innocent kindergarten teacher here.” Gert raised her voice. “What should we do with her?”
Fear caused Hollie’s heart to slam in her chest. Amber still squirmed against the wall, brushing away imaginary things crawling on her body. She had a wild-eyed look and continued to mutter under her breath things that made no sense.
Mary, who was lying on the bunk, turned her head and stared at Hollie in a way that made her skin crawl. Hollie felt like the woman against the wall must feel as she fought unseen creatures.
“You could use a friend, couldn’t you, Teacher?” Gert drawled, bringing Hollie’s attention back to her.
Hollie didn’t respond and bit the inside of her lip. She winced at the pain from her split lip.
“Friends are hard to come by around here.” Gert’s eyes roved over Hollie. “But I think you and me could be friends. Real good friends.”
“Why are you in here?” Hollie’s voice sounded tiny as she asked the question.
Gert’s eyes darkened. “Cops think I killed the woman screwing around with my girlfriend.”
“Did you?” As soon as she said the words, Hollie wished she could take them back.
But Gert laughed. “Hell no. We’re all innocent in here.”
Hollie looked down at her knees. Gert was lying. Hollie had no doubt about it. A murderer was asking her if she wanted to be friends. Hollie didn’t know what kind of friends she was talking about. Gert liked women—what if she raped Hollie?
Gert nudged her again, this time the back of her hand against Hollie’s arm. When she looked at Gert, the woman was scowling. “You’d better think hard on your answer.”
Hollie swallowed as she forced herself to say the words. “Yes. We can be friends.”
“Good girl.” Gert sounded pleased. “An innocent little kindergarten teacher like you won’t last long in a place like this. You’d better hope you don’t end up in Florence ’cause you won’t have me to take care of you.”
The door into the jail opened and Hollie and Gert looked up. Hollie felt a combination of humiliation and relief to see John. He gave Gert a hard look but the woman didn’t back off.
Hollie found herself getting to her feet and she gripped the bars as she looked at John who was wearing his uniform and badge. He looked so good but so unattainable, his expression hard.
He turned his gaze on Gert. “Give her some space.”
Gert smirked and walked across the cell, leaned against the wall, and folded her arms across her chest as she stared at John and Hollie.
Hollie’s lower lip trembled as she looked up at John and she fought back tears. “I didn’t do it, John.” She didn’t know why she felt like she had to convince him, but the words forced their way out.
“I know, honey.” His voice was low and his expression softened. He looked like he wanted to take her into his arms but had to hold himself back. “We’ll get the real killer, Hollie. In the meantime you’ll get out on bail as soon as the judge sets it.”
“What if he won’t allow bail to be posted for me?” Hollie asked, her eyes burning now.
“You’re not a flight risk.” John put his hands over hers where they rested on the bars. “It’s going to be all right.”
She couldn’t look at him and lowered her head as a tear leaked down her cheek.
He reached through the bars, caught her by the chin and raised her head. He wiped away the tear with his thumb. “You’re strong, Hollie. Stronger than you feel or even know.”
“Am I?” she whispered. “I don’t feel that way. Not at all.”
“Yes.” He said the words firmly. “You are.”
The way he said it made her feel stronger, at least in that moment.
“I’m sorry but I’ve got to go.” His hands were over hers on the bars again. “I’ll be back when I can. I promise it won’t be long until you’re out of here. In the meantime, you’re going to be strong,” he repeated. “Okay?”
She wished with all her heart that he didn’t have to leave but nodded. “Okay. I will be.” She didn’t know if she believed her own words. Could she be strong?
“That’s my girl.” He squeezed her hands before turning away and going back to the main door that the female jailor opened for him. He looked over his shoulder and met Hollie’s gaze, giving her a look of strength. A look that for one moment made her feel like everything was going to be okay. And then he was gone.
“You screwin’ a cop?” Gert moved up beside Hollie.
“No.” Hollie felt a rush of heat. “We haven’t.”
Gert snorted. “Sure.”
Hollie didn’t bother to argue with Gert. It didn’t matter what the woman thought. Or did it? Gert might hate cops. Still Hollie said nothing.
Gert slapped Hollie on the shoulder. “I bet he’s right and you’ll be out on bail.”
“I used up most of my remaining money bailing out my stepbrothers.” Hollie’s stomach churned again. “I might not have enough.”
“Who are your stepbrothers?” Gert asked.
“Floyd, Dickey, and Carl Whitfield.” Hollie swallowed. “Carl’s dead. Someone killed him earlier today.”
Gert whistled. “Good old Whitfield brothers. They think you murdered that asshole, Carl?”
“Yes,” Hollie said.
“Can’t say he didn’t deserve it if you did,” Gert said.
“I didn’t.” This time Hollie said it more defiantly.
“Whatever.” Gert slapped Hollie on the shoulder. “At least you’ve got a cop on your side.”
Hollie grimaced at the force Gert used when she’d hit Hollie’s shoulder, but she said nothing. She could only pray that Gert was right and John could help prove her innocence.
Chapter 11
Hollie almost crumpled into a heap as the judge set bail. It was staggering. She didn’t have that kind of money and didn’t have enough collateral—there was still a mortgage on the ranch and she owned nothing else of value.
The public defender, Jason Dugan, stood at her side and put papers back in his briefcase. He seemed almost indifferent to her, like he had better things to do. Maybe he was just preoccupied with something personal. She wished she could afford an attorney who would be more invested in proving her innocence.
She was almost too numb for tears by now as she was cuffed again and escorted out of the courthouse, her hands behind her. The moment they stepped outside, she was struck by a feeling of horror. A crowd was waiting at the foot of the stairs and she realized they were reporters. For a moment she stood rigid with shock as questions were fired at her.
“Miss Simmons!”
“Did you kill your stepbrother?”
“Did Carl Whitfield abuse you? Was this a revenge killing?”
“Why did you kill him?”
“They’re calling you the Killer Kindergarten Teacher. What do you think of that?”
Hollie’s mouth felt dry and her chest hurt. She thought her knees might give out on her as blood draine
d from her face.
The public defender, on the other hand came to life, as if a switch had been thrown. Now he was clearly interested as if he’d suddenly realized that this would be a high profile case. Proving the Killer Kindergarten Teacher innocent would make for good publicity.
Jason gripped her upper arm in a firm grip and started to move her down the steps, through the mass of reporters. “Ms. Simmons has no comment,” he said several times as they made their way.
She hung her head, hiding her face behind her long hair as Jason made a path for them through the crowd. Of course it was too late to matter—they’d already had plenty of time to take pictures of her as she came out of the courthouse and had been struck dumb. Her picture would be on the front page of the daily newspaper.
KILLER KINDERGARTEN TEACHER
The words went around and around in her mind. Her kids, her wonderful kindergarteners. What would this do to them when they saw that their teacher was accused of murder? They were young, but they would realize something bad had happened. No matter what the outcome was, there would always be the doubt in some people’s minds…her reputation would forever be tarnished.
And what about her friends? What would they think of her?
Jason and a deputy escorted Hollie to the waiting deputy’s car and opened the back door. She ducked down and slid onto the seat before the deputy shut the door firmly behind her.
She leaned forward on the seat, her wrists cuffed behind her, and the tears came, hot, like every one of them was burning a trail down her bruised face. The drive to the sheriff’s department headquarters wasn’t far and some of the reporters beat them there. Hollie was led up another set of stairs and into the headquarters, her head down, her hair hiding the tears rolling down her cheeks.
* * * * *
“Hollie Simmons.”
The female voice calling Hollie’s name caused her to jerk her head up. She was sitting in the corner again, her eyes puffy from crying silent tears. She hadn’t been able to stop since she’d left the courthouse. She slowly got to her feet and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands.
“Bail’s been posted for you.” The jailor opened the cell door. “You’re free to go for now.”
Stunned, Hollie stared at the woman. She couldn’t imagine who would have paid enough to post bail. “Who posted it?”
“No idea.” The woman jerked her head, indicating Hollie needed to exit the cell. “Just be glad someone did.”
Hollie couldn’t help looking back at the women in the cell. Gert and Mary were staring at her. Amanda was sitting on the floor rocking back and forth and muttering beneath her breath.
Gert smirked. “See you later, Teacher.”
Hollie bit her lower lip and turned away. She hoped with all her heart that she wouldn’t be seeing any of the women again.
She was taken to retrieve her belongings, which included the purse she had taken with her the night she was taken in for questioning, her driver’s license, wallet, earrings, and cell phone. Her hands trembled as she placed everything in her purse. She was given her coat and the scarf she’d worn when she came in for questioning. She shrugged into the coat and wrapped the scarf around her neck. The whole time she felt dazed, as if this weren’t real and she was still locked up and was hallucinating.
As she pushed open the door and walked out into the overcast day, she braced herself for more reporters then blew out a breath of relief. Thank God there were none. Likely they didn’t know bail had been posted and had no reason to be there right now. They’d gotten their photos anyway when she’d left the courthouse.
At the foot of the stairs she saw John, his hands shoved into the pockets of the suede western jacket he was wearing.
Instead of his uniform, he wore plain clothes, including a black T-shirt pulled taut over his muscular chest that showed through the opening of his jacket. Wrangler jeans were snug against his thighs, and he had worn brown leather boots on his feet. A Stetson shaded his eyes and she couldn’t read his expression.
Her body trembled as she walked down the steps to meet him. The moment she neared him, he reached out and pulled her into his arms, enveloping her in a firm embrace.
Everything she’d been holding back broke loose and she cried against his chest, hard, body-wracking sobs. She’d cried during her ordeal, but nothing like this. He rubbed her back with his palm as he murmured soothing words in her ear. She couldn’t focus on what he was saying but the low rhythm and the tenor of his voice helped to calm her.
His words came to her as her tears dried and she let out a deep shuddering breath. “It’s going to be okay, honey. We’ll fix this. Everything’s going to be all right.”
She became aware of his warm scent of spice and leather, and the clean scent of his T-shirt that was so soft against her cheek. The cloth was damp from her tears.
Slowly she raised her head and looked up at John. “Did you post bail for me?”
He nodded. “When I heard you didn’t have enough to do it for yourself, I worked things out with a bail bondsman. I had to get you out of there.”
Guilt stabbed her but at the same time she was so relieved to be out of jail that all she could really be was grateful. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you.” She didn’t think she could say it enough times. “I’ve got ten thousand stashed at the ranch. I can give you that.”
“Don’t worry about that right now.” He brought her against his chest again and slipped his fingers into her hair. “Come on. We’ll go to my place.” He put his arm around her shoulders and guided her toward a parking lot.
“Okay.” She wasn’t going to argue. She wanted to get as far away from the jail as she could as long as it wasn’t her ranch house.
He helped her into the passenger side of the truck and closed the door behind her before going to the driver’s side. He climbed in and started the truck. He rested his hand on the top of the steering wheel and reached across the console to take her hand in his free one. He squeezed.
She gave him a smile that she knew had to look sad because she couldn’t manage a real smile.
“It’s going to be okay, Hollie.” He gripped her hand firmly. “We’ll get whoever did this and clear your name.”
She desperately wanted to believe him. “Okay.”
He leaned close and kissed her forehead before backing the truck out of its space and heading out of the parking lot.
Her thoughts turned to her friends as he drove. Detective Kelley Petrova McBride had stopped by and told her that her friends, Leigh Monroe and others, wanted to see her. Hollie had said a flat “no.” She was too embarrassed and too exhausted from the ordeal to see anyone. What if this made them feel differently about her? What if they had doubts about her innocence?
This time when they reached John’s home it was during the day, unlike the first time that now seemed so very long ago.
His house was a single-level brick home with grass that was yellow now that it was winter and trimmed close and neat. The mature trees in front of his home had lost most of their leaves, their naked fingers pointing toward the sky. Yellow leaves were scattered around the base of the trees but very few, telling her that he had kept them raked up.
He parked the truck in the driveway and strode around the truck to help her out. She was grateful for him, needing his strength now, more than she’d realized.
When they were in the house, he took her scarf and purse and set them aside. He helped her out of her coat and draped it over an arm of the chocolate brown sofa.
“I need a shower.” She was dying to get out of the clothes she’d been wearing for forty-eight hours now. “Can I take one here?”
He gave a nod toward a hallway. “You’ve got it.”
She followed him, feeling bone weary and like she could sleep for a week. He led her into the master bedroom.
He pulled open a drawer, drew out a white T-shirt, and handed it to her. She took it and watched as he opened another drawer and brought out a pair of dark
blue boxers. “These will be big on you, but maybe they’ll do until we can get your own clothes.”
“Thank you.” She grasped the boxers in her fist then held the clothing to her chest. He led her into the bathroom. She watched as he turned on the shower and let it run until it was warm and steam started to build in the bathroom.
He handed her a thick blue towel and a toothbrush that was still in its package. “Just bought the toothbrush. Use whatever I have that you need.” He kissed her gently before closing the bathroom door and leaving her alone. She was glad for the privacy. She’d had none while she was in jail and it was beyond words how grateful she was to be out. She owed John more than she could ever repay. Now she had to prove herself innocent. She didn’t know how to do that and could only pray that John could.
A shower had never felt so good. As she soaped herself beneath the warm spray, the filth of the last forty-eight hours slid off her body. Even after she washed her hair, she still didn’t quite feel clean enough. It was as if the experience had tainted her in ways she couldn’t begin to express.
She realized she hadn’t been chewing her nails like she normally did. It was as if everything in her life had changed and not for the better. She felt too numb to chew her nails.
After she got out of the shower and turned off the water, she dried off with the blue towel John had handed her before he left. She dressed in the T-shirt and boxers, both loose on her but comfortable. She gratefully brushed her teeth and then combed the tangles out of her wet hair.
When she was finished, she opened the bathroom door. Steam escaped the room as she walked into the bedroom. She looked at the bed that invited her to slide between the sheets like a lover beckoning to her. Without consciously thinking about what she was doing, she headed straight for the bed and crawled into it.
The bed smelled of John, a scent that wrapped itself around her and made her believe for a moment in freedom.
Held by You Page 8
