by Sierra Dean
“Deputy Anderson, I presume.” I tried to sound cool, but I’d want to break his nose again if I found out he’d hurt Wilder.
“Get up.” There was an unspoken threat in his voice, and I decided I was better off not pushing his buttons. If I’d been more like my sister, I might have kept poking the angry bear, but it wasn’t yet in my nature to make trouble worse. Secret was a master of turning a bad situation into a truly dire one. It was no wonder she’d almost been killed a dozen different times.
Instead of throwing a cheeky one-liner at Anderson, I got to my feet and approached them in the most nonconfrontational posture possible. It made no difference. He still grabbed my arm forcefully and dragged me out of the room. I gritted my teeth and focused on Josie’s round cheeks and bright blue eyes. She looked appalled by his behavior but did nothing to stop him.
There might be hope for Josie, but not the kind that would be of any benefit to me.
As he shoved me down the hall, another door opened, and Wilder was brought out of a room.
As Josie had promised, he appeared unhurt. That didn’t mean they hadn’t done anything to him, but it did mean they hadn’t done anything recently.
“You’re okay,” I breathed, before realizing I’d have been better off keeping my mouth shut.
Wilder nodded but was smart enough to not speak. I wanted to tell him everything I’d learned. That someone was dead and I was pretty sure they were blaming Hank, but with four deputies around us all I could do was stare at him and hope he understood I hadn’t given up on this yet.
We passed without saying anything else, and I was ushered into a small meeting room before I had a chance to see where they took him. Anderson not-so-subtly manhandled me into a chair, then handcuffed me to the table. The sheriff, who’d been sitting there the whole time, said nothing about my treatment.
In fact, he said nothing at all until Anderson and Josie left.
Then he opened the slim folder sitting on the table in front of him and cleared his throat to be sure he had my attention.
“Do you know what I found when I ran your prints through our database, Miss McQueen?”
“Nothing,” I replied.
He gave me the same thin-lipped smile he’d used the previous night right before arresting us. Sheriff McGraw wasn’t an unattractive man. He was probably in his late forties, with dark blond hair receding in a widow’s peak. He had cheekbones a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon would go wild over, and a sharp, hawklike nose. If cowboys were my thing, I might have called him handsome.
Since he was giving me a shit-eating grin and I knew he had let his men beat Wilder, I was less inclined to think warmly about him just because he wasn’t ugly.
“Nothing,” he parroted back to me.
“Yeah, I know. I think I’d remember having a criminal record.”
“Well, funny thing about that, Eugenia, because when I couldn’t find anything in our database about you, I fired up the old Internet search engine.”
“Oh yeah? Did you send me a Facebook friend request?” There was some fight left in me, it seemed. A bit of the famous McQueen spitfire coming through after all. I didn’t want to piss this guy off, but I also wanted him to know he couldn’t intimidate me.
“I found out plenty about you. I know all about your family.”
That was impossible, naturally. If he knew all about my family, we wouldn’t be playing this game because he wouldn’t want the wrath of an FBI special investigation team coming down on his head. And that’s exactly what would happen if Secret and her crew found out we were being held on trumped-up charges.
I assumed he was talking about Callum. “Good for you.”
“Thing is, rich girls like you have a habit of getting their big mistakes wiped under the rug. Money can buy a lot of things, including a clean record. So you’ll have to forgive me if I’m not awed by your blank sheet.”
He was skirting the issue. If he’d Googled me and he’d found Callum, then he had to know what I was. The McQueens were the public face of werewolves in the South, and both Callum and I had been interviewed in papers and profiled on TV. If he knew my name, he knew I was a werewolf. I wasn’t sure why he was beating around the bush and why deputies like Josie were still out of the loop.
“I don’t have a record because I’ve never been arrested. We had no idea we were on private property. Last time I checked most churches are open to the public.”
“The church might be, but the land around it isn’t. Care to tell me what you and your boyfriend were doing out there?”
This was the second time someone had called Wilder my boyfriend, and for the second time I ignored it. If they thought they could use it against me somehow, I didn’t want to take away a bargaining chip they assumed they could use.
I said nothing.
“Funny thing, you and your friend coming to town last night.”
“Hilarious.”
“Because Mr. Shaw clearly doesn’t have the same friends in high places you do. He has a record, a pretty extensive one.”
I pretended to know this, which wasn’t too hard because I’d had my own suspicions about his criminal past. Regardless, curiosity crept over me, and I was more than a little interested to find out what Wilder had been arrested for in the past. I was willing to bet it wasn’t unpaid parking tickets.
“He and I are different people.”
Sheriff McGraw nodded. “Indeed you are. But are he and his brother so different?”
“Yes.” I should have kept my mouth shut, but I couldn’t help myself. Wilder and Hank were different. Problem was I couldn’t be sure why McGraw was bringing Hank into this conversation.
“They can’t be all that different, if they were both arrested on the same night. Now can they?”
It was Hank they’d arrested.
Meaning Hank wasn’t dead.
“Is he here?” I asked. “Hawk Shaw. You said you arrested him. Is he here?”
McGraw didn’t respond, but that was enough of an admission for me. Plus Josie had said they’d brought in a werewolf, which meant Hank was somewhere in this building.
“Care to tell me why you’re so concerned about him?” McGraw asked.
Was he really going to play coy? “You looked me up, right? You said you know who my family is, and you claim you know who I am. Now, your deputy told me y’all brought in one werewolf last night, but I think you know better. I think you know you brought in three.”
He sat back, and his thin smile grew wider. With blue eyes twinkling merrily, he said, “I think you and I might finally be on the same page.”
“Sheriff, you and I are in totally different books.”
“I want you to tell me about Hank Shaw.”
It was my turn to sit back and smile. “Sure thing. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. After I call my lawyer.”
Chapter Eighteen
I was not the most popular girl in Franklinton after I lawyered up.
I was also not the most popular girl in Louisiana when I called Cash and told him I was in a pickle and could use his legal expertise. Like, right now.
“I’m sorry, you’re where?” he asked.
“I’m in jail.” If I’d told him I was doing research on Mars, he might have sounded less incredulous.
“In the middle of nowhere,” he added.
“It’s complicated.”
“Are you okay?”
I let out a little sigh of relief as the annoyance left his tone. I’d been worried he might be mad enough to just leave me here, but that wasn’t like Cash. If I was in trouble, like now, I knew I could count on him. My heart swelled with appreciation. I was too damn lucky to have him.
“I’m okay. It was a rough night, but they’re not treating us too badly.”
“What are they charging you with?” He had gone into all-business mode.
“We were arrested for trespassing, but there’s something more going on. I
can’t get into it over the phone, but I need your help.”
“I can wire you money for bail. How much do you need?”
“No.” I chewed the inside of my cheek, wondering how best to phrase this next part. “Cash, I need you to come out here.”
“Genie…” There was a long silence. “Baby, it’s the middle of the week. I have classes.”
“I know, I know, and I’m sorry to even ask, but I don’t know if there’s anyone else who can help me.”
Voices were muffled in the background. Lots of chatter and people laughing. It sounded like he was already at school. “Why didn’t you call your uncle? He must have lawyers.”
He did. Callum had at least a half dozen highly skilled lawyers on retainer. They were experts in finance and contracts; they kept his businesses running and his secrets safe. But none of them knew a damn thing about paranormal law because they’d never had to before. Cash, on the other hand, was the closest thing I had to an expert, and I was hoping he might be able to use that magnificent brain of his to save our asses.
“I need you. You’re the only one who can help us.” I considered making it an Obi-Wan joke since Cash was a giant Star Wars nerd, but he might not take my plea seriously if I attempted humor. And I was desperate for him to take this seriously.
“Us.” He paused again. “We and us. Who are you there with, Genie?”
This was going to sound infinitely more complicated without being able to give him the whole story, but I couldn’t share all the details on a phone that was likely tapped. It wasn’t like I had anything to hide, but Cash deserved to know why I had been arrested with another man.
“Wilder, one of the wolves from Callum’s pack. We came here looking for his brother, and things have gotten a lot worse since we showed up.”
“I thought you were leaving town to keep a low profile. I thought the whole plan of this little break was for you to keep your head down and stay safe. So how, then, do you end up in jail on the totally opposite side of the state?” He didn’t sound angry so much as exhausted.
“Like I said, it’s a long story, but I promise it’s a good one. Or a bad one, depending on how you look at it. But, Cash…you’re the only one I can count on right now.” I wasn’t actually sure what he was going to say. It was a lot to ask, and our relationship wasn’t in the best place lately. There was an unspoken tension between us these last few months, and my werewolf connections had a lot to do with that. Calling him out here for werewolf-related drama might be pushing my luck too far. “Please,” I added. “I love you.”
“I love you too, babe.” He sighed, one of those heavy, my-life-is-so-complicated sighs. “Okay. I’ll be there in two hours. Don’t say anything. Tell your friend not to say anything either.”
He hung up before I could tell him about Hank and the probable murder charges. Maybe it was for the best if he was already here when I revealed that news.
I could be like Surprise! Murder investigation! when he finally showed up.
Girlfriend of the year, right here.
Josie perked up when I disconnected the phone. She led me back down the hall to my cell. “I tried to see if I could move you into the same block as your boyfriend, but the sheriff wasn’t having it. Guessing you didn’t tell him what he wanted to hear?”
“If I told him what he wanted to hear, I’d be lying. And I don’t make it a habit to lie to the cops.”
She stared at me, and I could tell she was trying to get a read on whether or not I was bullshitting her. I had a funny feeling about Josie. If she was given a nudge in the right direction, I wondered if she might be able to help me. But how could I find out for sure without tipping my hand? I didn’t want to say anything about what we’d witnessed until Cash arrived. If I told her Wilder and I had seen Timothy literally throw an innocent woman to the wolves, I wouldn’t have any aces left up my sleeve.
“How well do you know Timothy Deerling?” I asked instead. Might be better to see if she worshipped the guy or gave me some indication of her opinion on him, one way or the other.
“Pastor Tim? Why do you ask?”
“What kind of person is he?”
She shrugged, and I made a mental note that she hadn’t immediately swooned over how wonderful he was. “He’s only been in town about three years. Moved here from Greensburg with his wife Shannon. He’s…enthusiastic. It’s hard to really say anything about him, you know? He’s the only reason this town still exists.”
Ah yes. Timothy Deerling, the beloved savior of Franklinton, LA.
“Boosting the economy doesn’t make him a good person.”
She opened the door to my cell and made a funny face at me. “You guys have something against Pastor Tim?”
Aside from the fact I doubted he was actually a pastor and his so-called church was a scam designed to turn gullible idiots into vicious bigots? No. Tim and I were besties.
“Never mind.” I showed myself into the room and flopped onto the bed. Before she closed the door, I said, “Hey, if it’s not too much to ask, can you let Wilder know our lawyer is coming?”
Josie frowned. “I’m not supposed to relay any messages.”
“It’s not a secret code, Deputy Dwyer. I just want him to know someone is on their way to help us, okay?”
Even though she didn’t reply, I felt certain she would tell Wilder what I’d said. Whether or not it would give him any comfort was another story, but it was the best I could do given our circumstances.
Cash was a punctual guy.
He insisted on being early or on time to absolutely everything, and as it turned out, coming to my rescue was no exception.
About two and a half hours after I called, Josie came back and told me I had a visitor.
She brought me into a different room than the one McGraw had interviewed me in, and to my utter astonishment I discovered Wilder was already there waiting. This time around no one handcuffed me to the table, and Wilder too was shackle free.
It didn’t escape my attention that Wilder and Cash were staring each other down across the table, and the atmosphere of the room was downright chilly.
I sat beside Wilder, only because it was the spot Josie had indicated I ought to go to. I’d never been arrested before, but perhaps there were rules against the criminals sitting next to their lawyers rather than across from them.
I smiled at Cash but he only nodded tightly. Evidently he didn’t see anything in this situation worth smiling about.
“Thanks for coming,” I was doing my best to sound sweet and appreciative. I knew this was a huge inconvenience to him, and I felt bad for dragging him out here. He had every right to be annoyed with me.
At least he came, I reminded myself.
It wasn’t that I expected him to pity my circumstances, but a bit of empathy would have gone a long way. For someone who was supposed to care about me, I sure wasn’t feeling loved just now. Even a hand hold would have lifted my spirits out of their current lower-than-shit level.
Cash waited until Josie was out of the room before he spoke. “They were more than a little hesitant to let me speak to you both together, but I made a point of telling them I wasn’t likely to allow either of you to make a statement, so it shouldn’t matter if you’re in the same room. Funny, though, he was surprised I only knew about two of my clients. I guess they figured since I was helping one Shaw brother I was here for the whole family.”
The unimpressed stare he gave me spoke volumes. I felt as big as a flea in that moment. Ah. That explained why he wasn’t so pleased with me. To be fair to me, though, it wasn’t my fault the cops had assumed he was Hank’s lawyer. I was just hoping he would be.
“Hank is the real reason we needed you.”
“You called me to help you. I assumed he would be an added bonus.” He nodded towards Wilder. “I came here expecting trespassing. What I find is a murder rap and an assault charge. You wanted me to help get you out of trouble, Genie, but this is
some fucking bullshit right here.”
I guess it wasn’t fair of me to expect him to be thrilled, but I certainly wasn’t expecting him to react like this. “I’m sorry.” And I was. I should have told him about Hank. It wasn’t a great thing to dump in his lap without warning. But he hadn’t given me much of an opportunity during our short phone call.
He sighed and rubbed his palms over his cheeks. It was only midafternoon, but he already looked exhausted.
“No, I’m sorry. It was just… It caught me off-guard, and if I’m going to be able to help you, I can’t have any surprises. Believe it or not, I’m still new to this, and the easier you make things for me, the better it will be for you. So, I need you guys to tell me everything that happened. From the beginning. And don’t leave anything out. Okay?”
I nodded, but Wilder didn’t acknowledge Cash’s request. Instead he asked, “Have you talked to him?”
“To who?”
“Hank?”
“You’re his brother, right?” Cash glanced down at a notebook haphazardly filled with his familiar handwriting. I wondered how much he knew in addition to what I’d told him on the phone. He was a smart guy. He’d probably already unturned some stones.
Again, Wilder ignored the question. “Have you seen him?”
If Cash found this line of questioning rude, he didn’t let it show. In fact he was being a lot nicer to Wilder than he was to me. “Only briefly. Since the charges against him are more significant, I can’t get you in to see him.” Cash focused on me, the kindness melting off him like ice. “He was overjoyed to find out I was his lawyer, by the way.”
Neither Wilder nor I needed further explanation. If Hank had his way, he would stay in jail for a year if it meant he could wait for a white lawyer. Too bad for him the lawyer I was currently banging didn’t have his preferred skin color.
I half-expected Wilder to apologize on behalf of his brother, something he was likely accustomed to doing. Instead he asked, “Is he okay?”
If Cash had been to see Hank before coming to us, it was no small wonder he wasn’t acting warm and fuzzy towards Wilder or me. He probably assumed Wilder shared his brother’s attitude, and he was mad at me for putting him in this position.
