by Diana Palmer
But it was, Emma groaned inwardly. It was absolutely an accident. She’d never meant to hurt him, even when she thought he was a horrible stuffed shirt.
If he ever found out it was her...
She closed her eyes and shivered. He’d be sure that she’d played him, as he’d called it once before. He’d think she maneuvered him into marriage because she wanted what he had. Nothing was further from the truth. She loved him. She had his child growing in her body.
If he found out about the baby, she knew he’d force her to terminate it. She could refuse, but he’d said once that he’d go all the way to the Supreme Court if he had to, to stop a pregnancy he didn’t want. There were ways, even illegal ways, that she could be made to give up the child.
She felt protective of it already. She wanted it, with all her heart. She knew Connor didn’t love her. He’d only wanted her. But the child was part of him, a small part that she could keep and love and nurture.
The trouble was going to be keeping him from finding out. She’d have to go back to Texas and try to hide. She worried about Connor’s wealth. If he really wanted to find her, if he thought he needed to find her, the Griers couldn’t hide her. There would be no place on earth that would be safe for her and a baby he didn’t want.
* * *
He didn’t come back for hours. When he did, his face was pale under its olive tan, and he looked absolutely devastated.
“Is something wrong?” Emma asked worriedly.
His jaw tightened. “I’m expecting Alistair,” he replied. “When he comes, send him into the office.”
“Yes, of course. Do you want me to—”
“I don’t want anything from you, Emma,” he said icily. He turned and felt his way along the hall to the office door. He opened it and went in, slamming it behind him.
Marie exchanged a worried glance with Emma. That didn’t sound like the happy man of recent weeks, since their marriage.
Emma had a premonition that made her sicker than the pregnancy did. She ate a salad, noting that Connor refused any food. She heard the clink of ice in a glass when Marie had gone to the door to ask if he was coming to lunch. He was drinking, and it was barely noon. He never did that.
He must have found out something. But maybe if she was careful, she could get him to listen. She’d tell him the truth, something she should have done when it first happened. She should have told him the day she went to work for him. Now it was too late.
She wondered why he didn’t call her in and give her hell. If he knew, he must want to. But he just waited.
After lunch, a car pulled up outside. Alistair Sims, his attorney, came into the house.
“What’s going on?” he asked in a hushed voice, scowling. “I couldn’t make heads nor tails of what he said to me. And he’s made a phone call—”
The opening of the office door cut him off. “Alistair, is that you?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Come in here. Now.”
Alistair grimaced as he looked at Emma’s guilty face. Whatever was going on it involved her, he was willing to bet. “On my way.”
Then another car pulled up. A door slammed. Two men got out. One of them was wearing the uniform of the local sheriff’s department. Another was with the Department of Natural Resources Law Enforcement Division.
The office door opened as they entered and Alistair invited them inside, with a painful glance at Emma.
So he knew. She was certain of it now. Why were the law enforcement officials here? Her heart stopped. Surely, he wasn’t going to have her arrested. Not after all this time?
“What in the world is going on?” Marie asked, aghast.
Emma wanted to tell her, to explain. But even as the thought presented itself, the office door opened one last time.
“Emma,” Connor called coldly. “Come in here.”
She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and walked slowly toward the office, feeling small in her jeans and sweater and sneakers, with her long hair down around her pinched face.
She walked into the office and closed the door behind her. Four masculine faces turned toward her. Pity was in Alistair’s eyes. The others were less readable. Connor’s were merciless.
“You worked for Mamie van Dyke,” Connor said shortly.
Her heart fell into her shoes. “Yes, sir,” she said softly.
“You ran the boat into me.”
She drew in a painful breath. “Yes. But not deliberately. The sun—”
“I don’t care about any more lies!” he said, and brought his fist down hard on the surface of the oak desk, shaking the floor. “You hit me. You blinded me! Then you moved into my house and pretended to be someone you weren’t. You lied to me!”
She bit her lower lip. “I wanted to tell you,” she said, choked with emotion. “But I didn’t know how.”
“You liked it here, didn’t you?” he asked, his expression so sarcastic that it hurt. “Nice things to wear, expensive trips around the world, clothes you didn’t find in some thrift shop!”
Her eyes fell to the floor. “Those things didn’t matter.”
“Hell! Of course they mattered. They’re all that did matter. You played me like a violin, Emma.”
She tried to speak, but he turned to the law enforcement people. “Alistair?” he prompted.
Alistair gave Emma a sad and regretful look before he produced a paper out of his briefcase and handed it to the deputy. “It’s an arrest warrant,” he explained.
Emma stared helplessly at the warrant. She’d never been in trouble with the law in her whole life. She didn’t know anybody who had been, except a classmate in high school who’d passed a bad check. He was going to send her to jail.
The worst thing was that she didn’t have a defense. It was an accident, but he had every reason to believe she’d done it on purpose. He’d called her down about speeding in the boat, he’d made her cry at Mamie’s party, he’d insulted her on the shore of the lake when she’d run into him there after the party. He only knew the Emma of his earlier acquaintance as someone unpleasant. He couldn’t seem to connect her with the Emma he did know.
“Come here, Emma,” he said, interrupting her thoughts.
She went to him, wondering if he might change his mind, if he was having second thoughts.
He caught her arm and slid down it to her fingers. He tore off her wedding and engagement rings and threw them violently across the room. “Just so you understand,” he said icily. “I’ll send Alistair over to the jail with the divorce papers. You’ll sign them,” he added furiously. “And if you turn up pregnant, you’ll get rid of it or you’ll never get out of jail. Do you understand me?”
She swallowed. Her face was flour pale. “Yes, sir.” He was scary like that. Scary like her father used to be when he drank, when he hit her. Connor’s breath was alcohol scented. The glass on his desk was empty. It smelled like whiskey. He almost never drank hard liquor. It was an indication of how upset he was.
“Get her out of here,” Connor said, turning away.
The deputy put handcuffs on her. She stood with her eyes on the floor. She never said a word, not even when they took her out the door and put her in the squad car. She was completely silent all the way to the detention center.
Thirteen
It was the worst day of Emma’s whole life. She was fingerprinted, booked into custody and placed in the detention center with other female inmates. One of them, about twenty years older than her, gave her dirty looks that made her want to curl up and die. She accused Emma of having her locked up, for reasons Emma couldn’t understand. She’d never seen the woman before.
She sat by herself, huddled up, while around her inmates in various stages of drug and alcohol withdrawal, or just plain miserable, sat on cots in their orange
uniforms and wished they were somewhere else.
Emma looked at her ring finger and winced. Connor had pulled her rings off so roughly that he’d bruised her finger. He’d been drinking, she reminded herself, and he was probably so angry that he wasn’t thinking straight. He must hate her. He remembered a woman who didn’t like him, who’d resented his warnings about driving Mamie’s boat. He thought she’d hit him on purpose. Now he was getting even.
She gave a thought to the tiny life that she was certain was growing inside her. She hoped she could lie convincingly and make Connor believe that she wasn’t pregnant, so that she could save her child. He’d said he was sending divorce papers to her, and that would mean Alistair would bring them. Perhaps she could convince him, so that he could convince Connor.
It was such a shock to be in jail. They’d allowed her one phone call. She’d wanted to call Mamie, but no overseas calls were allowed. So, in desperation, she called her father. He was, as usual, drunk. When she told him what she wanted, he exploded in anger. His child, a jailbird? Nobody in his entire family had ever ended up in jail. She was no longer his child. He didn’t want anything else to do with her, he told her, cursing all the while. She could go to hell. And he’d hung up on her.
She wasn’t without friends. She could have called Cash Grier. She had no doubt that he’d have flown to North Georgia and bailed her out himself. But that would put him up against one of the richest men in the world, and Cash had two little kids. She couldn’t put him, or Tippy, in that position.
She had no money. Her checkbook was empty since she hadn’t been drawing a salary since her marriage, and she’d spent the last of her savings on a wedding present for Connor, a new expensive wallet. She grimaced as she imagined him throwing it into the fireplace now. She had a little in her savings account, but she didn’t have her bankbook. All her things were still at Connor’s house. None of them would add up to the amount she’d need to make bond. Apparently Connor, or Alistair, had talked to the prosecutor, because bail was set high at her arraignment.
Soon after her arrest, she’d had a visit from a harried public defender. He’d gone over her case and was fairly optimistic until she mentioned who was pressing charges. Then he’d gone very quiet. Of course he knew who Connor Sinclair was. He’d promised that he’d do what he could. He mentioned putting up bond, but she told him she owned no property. A property bond was impossible. She had no money, either. That meant she’d have to sit in jail until her case was called to trial. He added that it could take months, even possibly a year, before that happened, considering the current state of the court docket.
He left her even more depressed than she’d been before. She had a cousin in Comanche Wells, in addition to the father who’d disowned her, but to involve her cousin would risk having Cash learn about her situation and come to save her. She couldn’t let Connor go after him. Cash and Tippy had done so much for her. She owed them too much to let them know what a miserable situation she’d landed herself in.
So she sat in the detention center, growing more and more edgy by the day, while she waited in vain for her case to be called.
* * *
Sudie, a fellow inmate but much older, became protective of her when the antagonistic inmate she’d met on her first day at the detention center pushed her off her feet and hit her.
“You back off,” Sudie told the other woman, her gray hair sticking straight out from her broad head. She was big, burly, and most of the other inmates didn’t mess with her.
The other woman, Jackie by name, glared at her. “That’s my damned sister.” She pointed at Emma. “She put me in here, and I’m going to kill her! You won’t stop me!”
“Jackie, your sister lives in Atlanta,” Sudie tried to convince her. “She’s not in jail.”
“Yes, she is. I know my own kin when I see them. That’s her. You’re gonna die!” she told Emma with such venom that Emma felt sick. “I’m gonna kill you. Just wait. Nobody’s going to save you. Not even her!” She indicated Sudie.
But Jackie did go away. Sudie put an arm around Emma. “Don’t worry,” she said when she felt Emma shaking. “It’s okay. I won’t let her hurt you.”
Tears ran hotly down her cheeks. “Thanks. I wish I could repay you,” she began.
Sudie waved that away. “We’re all in here because we’re in trouble. We get by if we help each other. Some of the guards are nice. Some are just pure evil. That one—” she indicated a tall male guard who was watching them “—he likes pretty women. You make sure you scream if he tries anything. He’s twitchy. He’ll try something if he’s not under the cameras. But if you scream, he’ll back off.”
“I never dreamed that I’d end up here,” Emma said miserably.
“What did you do, baby?” Sudie asked.
“I hit a man with a speedboat.” Her eyes closed. “He was blinded. I was so scared. I didn’t do it on purpose, but he thinks I did.”
Sudie patted her back. “You’ll have a chance to tell your story when you get in front of a judge. Ever been in trouble with the law before?”
“Never in my life,” was the reply. “I’ve never even had a parking ticket!”
“Then you’ll get first offender status. It will be okay.” She frowned. “The man you hit, he wasn’t over sixty-five, was he?” she added worriedly.
“No! Why?”
“Bigger penalty if you hurt somebody elderly.” She smiled at Emma’s surprise. “Most of us know something about the law.” She rolled her eyes. “This isn’t my first time around the block. I’ve been in trouble since I was fourteen. This latest wrangle is because I stole an expensive car and went joyriding in it.” She shook her head. “‘Grand Theft Auto’ is a great video game. In real life, it’s not so much fun.”
Emma smiled. “Thanks for saving me.”
Sudie shrugged. “Not a problem. Stick with me, kid. I’ll keep you safe.” She motioned to another inmate, one who was as thin as Sudie was hefty. “This is Emma,” she told the other woman with an affectionate smile. “We’re adopting her.”
“Hi. I’m Delsa,” the other woman said. She hugged Emma. “Welcome to the family.”
Emma laughed self-consciously. “Thanks.” She looked at them worriedly. “I’ve read books about jail. I don’t have any cigarettes...”
They both laughed. “We don’t smoke,” they assured her. “But where we’ll be going, cigarettes are a very valuable commodity. She’s in for reckless driving or hit-and-run, something like that, but she’s a first offender,” Sudie told her friend.
“She’ll be out in no time,” Delsa agreed. “Have they set a bond hearing yet?”
“I don’t have any money,” Emma said complacently. “So I’m here until my case comes up in court.”
They both grimaced.
“It’s not so bad,” Emma replied in her soft voice. “The food is nice, and so is the company.”
They both smiled.
“Thanks, kid,” Sudie said gently. “Been a long time since I’ve been called nice company.”
“People get in trouble for all sorts of reasons,” Emma said. “My parents were sticklers for going to church. They taught me that you never judge other people.”
“Can’t you call your parents to get you out?” Delsa asked.
“My mother’s been dead a long time.” She lowered her eyes. “I called my dad. He disowned me.” She sighed and forced a smile. “So thanks for adopting me. I guess I’m an orphan.”
“My dad threw me out of the house when I was ten,” Sudie said. “I was glad to go. I got tired of getting beat up when he was high. He died of an overdose, I heard. My mom’s still on the streets, making her living.”
“I only had my mother,” Delsa said sadly. “She died when I was eleven. I had to go on the streets to survive.” She made a face. “My pimp taught me how to stea
l. I’ve been doing it ever since. Wouldn’t know how to make an honest living.”
“Me, neither,” Sudie agreed. She shook a finger at Emma. “You didn’t hear that,” she said firmly. “If you’re gonna be our kid, you have to turn out right. Got that?”
Emma beamed. “Okay.”
“Gonna raise some eyebrows when we put that out. Her being our kid.” Sudie grinned.
It was true. They were very dark-skinned with curly hair and jet-black eyes. Emma was blonde.
“We should of got married.” Delsa sighed. “Not easy, being like us, even in 2017.”
Emma looked from one to the other. “Are you a couple?”
They both nodded.
Emma just smiled. “I think how people want to live their lives is their business. You’ll get no judgments from me.”
Sudie hugged her. “Now I know you’re my kid!”
Emma laughed.
* * *
It was a long process, getting used to being incarcerated. So many restrictions. In the shower room, Emma was always with her two companions. If she hadn’t been, Jackie would have been on her like a duck on a June bug. She kept making threats. Emma got to know one of the detention guards, a kindly older woman named Bess. She mentioned it to her.
“She’s got mental problems,” Bess told her quietly. “You watch out for her. But you’re in good hands.” She indicated Emma’s friends. “Nobody’s going to risk getting in bad with them to get to you. They’re dangerous.”
“They’re so sweet,” Emma defended them.
Bess smiled. “I guess different people bring out different qualities in people. They had a rough start in life. It has an effect.”
“Yes, it does.”
“No chance that he might drop the charges?” Bess asked aloud.
Emma sighed. “I blinded him,” she said simply. “I should have stopped to see about him. But I was too afraid. He’s suffered so terribly. We have to pay for the things we do in life. God forgives. But He exacts a price when we hurt people. And that’s the way it should be.”
