“We’ve arrested several individuals caught using the substances. And—” he paused for a moment, “—only three hours ago, we had one Fentanyl-related death happen ten minutes from Collins Vet Clinic.”
Jesus Christ. Someone was already dead. I stared up at Peters.
I shook my head. “I’m not responsible for this. We aren’t even missing any of these drugs from the clinic,” I said, taking the risk that there were indeed no drugs missing.
“I’ll be the one to see about that, Dr. O’Leary. I need not remind you of how dangerous these medications are. If you cooperate with us to get the dealers who are selling them off the streets, then we can arrange a lighter sentence for you.”
“Lighter sentence?” My voice rose to a hysterical level. “I didn’t do it.”
“Dr. O’Lea—”
“Don’t ‘Doctor O’Leary’ me! I didn’t do it. Your eyewitnesses are lying. Someone is setting me up.”
He set down the pen. “If that’s the case,” Peters replied, taking off his glasses to wipe them clean before returning them to the bridge of his nose, “then who might want to see you in prison? It’s a very serious, very elaborate set-up if it is one.”
I wanted to scream. Hell, I had screamed, but it served no purpose. Right now, I needed to keep a level head about me.
“If I had any idea, I would have led with that. I want my lawyer.”
“Dr. O’Leary, are you sure we can’t keep—”
“I. Want. My. Lawyer,” I hissed through gritted teeth. I could feel a migraine coming on as the alcohol I’d consumed rapidly wore off.
There was a pause, then Peters said, “Very well. I’ll have my colleague escort you back to the holding cell. Someone will be along shortly to get the details of your lawyer and give you the opportunity to make a phone call.”
The same policeman as before took me back to the cell where I sat on a slab of cold cement and stared up at the blank ceiling.
Someone had died taking drugs I supposedly was responsible for getting out onto the streets. More would undoubtedly follow. This was serious.
If it was a set-up…who could I trust as my lawyer? My father’s attorney was excellent, but if this was an inside job—no matter how unlikely that may be—then that wasn’t a wise move.
If I went to another firm, the chances increased that the lawyers there would be paid off. If someone was going to this much trouble to frame me, I wouldn’t put it past them to go that far.
Which only left…
Rafe.
But he wanted nothing to do with shit that might be connected to the mob. I saw the way he looked at me. We already tried to avoid each other despite the immediate sparks that flew tonight when we reconnected. He would never accept my case, but he was the only one I could trust.
Several hours passed before I could make a phone call. I wondered whether they hoped the solitude would make me more inclined to speak to the detective without a lawyer. Well, if that’s what they were hoping for, then they were sadly mistaken.
I whiled away the time trying to doze on the hard surface, but I couldn’t. My brain kept mulling over what everyone would think of my arrest.
What would Dean think? Would he have rushed straight to the clinic from Capone’s to triple-check stock numbers, believing me to be guilty? I didn’t think I could cope with my boss thinking for even a second that I was an untrustworthy criminal. I wouldn’t be able to deal with losing his respect.
Just as much as I couldn’t deal with having lost Rafe’s.
When I could finally make a phone call, I considered calling Katya or my eldest brother Patrick, but I settled on Ian instead. Not only were we close, he was Rafe’s best friend. If anybody could convince Rafe to believe me and defend me against these ridiculous drug charges, it was him.
The phone rang just twice before my brother picked up.
“Kirsten, this better be you,” Ian said before I could say a word.
“Who else would you be expecting to hear from on the other end of a police line?” I joked. And then, “Yeah, it’s me.”
“What took you so long to call?”
“They only just let me, that’s why.”
“Have they questioned you? What’s going on?”
“They questioned me until I said I needed my lawyer. Ian…some really nasty drugs are out there on the streets. Someone’s died, and the detective said they have eyewitnesses who saw me handing the drugs over to several known drug dealers.”
“Sounds like a damn set-up if you ask me.”
I could almost cry.
“Thank you. I was feeling paranoid that everyone was gonna think I actually did it…Rafe certainly seemed to think I had.”
Ian bit out a noise of outrage. “Of course he doesn’t think you’ve done this. I think he was just shocked—and it was a stark reminder of everything he was trying to get away from.”
“Just because of who our dad is? He’ll deal with worse cases than mine in his law career. Why should it matter so much to him that this may or may not be related to the mob?”
Ian sighed. “You need him as your lawyer, don’t you?”
“Ian, I can’t trust anyone else. If this is mob related, then…”
“I know, I know. Consider him defending you. I’ll speak to him. Give the detective his details, and I’ll knock some sense into the bastard.”
“Thanks, brother. This almost makes up for you constantly scaring Rafe off from having a relationship with me.” I couldn’t help the remark.
Ian let out a bark of laughter. It didn’t hide the fact that he sounded exhausted. It suddenly occurred to me I had no idea what time it was.
“You know I’m only ever looking out for your best interests. With relations between the families like this—and if this drug crap is a move to make relations even more fraught, then—”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” I interrupted. “Romeo and Juliet and all that. For everyone’s sake, we can’t be together. I remember.”
“You didn’t seem to remember earlier on. The Irish don’t like it that we’ve pulled in a Russian. The Russians are even less thrilled that Katya is now Irish. Things are tense.”
“Ian, are you really going to lecture me right now? I had been drinking, and Rafe and I hadn’t spoken in years. We’re only human. Besides, we’re all family.”
“Spoken from a girl who believed unicorns were possible.” There was a pause, and then Ian made a noise of apology. “You’re right, Kirsten. I’m sorry. I’ll speak to him and get your bail sorted. You won’t be detained for any longer than you have to be.”
“Thanks, Ian. I love you.”
“Love you, too, little sis.”
With that, I hung the phone up and gave the policeman Rafe’s contact details as my attorney once we got back to the holding cell. And then there was silence.
I was really going to have to spend a night in a prison cell.
How could it have been that mere hours ago I was worrying over what dress to wear? Now my carefully chosen off-shoulder green dress seemed entirely inappropriate for the chilly, hard-edged police cell.
For the first time in a long time, I wished my mother wasn’t dead. I needed her to embrace me and tell me everything would be okay. But I had no one like that here. I was alone.
Shivering slightly and struggling to hold back tears, I lay down on the hard concrete and pulled my knees to my chest and prayed morning would arrive quickly. I prayed Ian could convince Rafe to defend me. Otherwise, I was utterly and royally screwed.
Chapter Six
Oh no. Absolutely not.
I said I was done with the mob life.
I couldn’t get involved again, even for Kirsten.
So why was I anxiously waiting up for a call from someone—anyone—just so I could know what the hell was going on? To see if there was anything I could do to help?
I regretted the way I had looked at and thought of Kirsten as she was arrested and taken away. Who was I to say she w
as guilty? If anything, I was one of the few people who could categorically say she wasn’t. Despite our years apart, I knew Kirsten was still a good person. Certainly better than me.
After all, of the two of us, who had only just forged documents to cover up the probable murder of Katya’s ‘father’, Yuri Petrenko? That would be me. Not Kirsten.
Capone’s had been a mess after she was hauled away. Ian had furiously called his elder brother and father to sort things out. Katya worried about trying to calm down the audience and continue the cabaret before it turned into more of a failure than it already had. Kirsten’s friend Rose had cried…
Dean had looked concerned and confused. Did he know something? Was he responsible for what happened?
I shook my head. It wasn’t my problem to deal with. Liam O’Leary would ensure his daughter would receive only the best legal counsel. They’d sort out the case against her in a heartbeat. I didn’t have to worry about Kirsten at all.
That didn’t change the fact that I was worrying about her.
We had fallen back into step so easily at Capone’s. Had we actually ended up dancing together, I knew with reasonable certainty the two of us would have ended up back at Kirsten’s apartment or back at the Wilde mansion. Ian and the rest of the O’Learys be damned.
And yet it was as if fate had decreed that the two of us couldn’t even give in to our most base desires towards one another. We weren’t even allowed to be a one-night stand.
Thanks, universe.
I was jerked out of my own head by the sound of my cell phone ringing. I glanced at the clock on the wall of my kitchen. It was close to two in the morning. I knew it could only be one person.
Ian.
With a deep sense of foreboding, I picked up the call. “I was expecting to have heard from you earlier than this,” I said.
“I only just got off the phone with Kirsten myself.”
I wasn’t surprised Kirsten had used her one phone call to talk to him. They were closer than even I was to my own brothers.
Ian continued. “You know what I’m going to say, Rafe.”
“I won’t defend her, Ian. I can’t. I thought you of all people would agree with me on this.”
“Oh, trust me, after the way the two of you were behaving earlier, I wish I had the privilege of having Kirsten go to another attorney. But I don’t.”
“Why does it have to be me?”
There was a long pause.
“It’s bad, Rafe. Really terrible. They have eyewitnesses who will attest to Kirsten selling all these stupidly dangerous drugs to known dealers. Someone died taking them.”
“Shit.”
“If all that happened was a case of mistaken identity, then any lawyer would do,” Ian said, “but it’s not. This is a set-up. And if Kirsten is being set up, then we can’t rule out it could be an inside job. Someone—”
“Someone might not like that all of our families have reached an uneasy peace and want to break it,” I interrupted. “I get it. But this is exactly why—”
“Screw you wanting to get out of all this shit!” Ian yelled, interrupting me this time. “You don’t get it, Rafe. You don’t get it at all. If it’s an inside job, then Kirsten can’t trust anyone to defend her but you. You’re the only lawyer in this city—hell, maybe even out of the city—who couldn’t possibly be bribed or blackmailed to mess up her defense. She needs you. We all do.”
Ian was right. I had known it all along.
I sighed. “You must have known I would end up taking the job anyway. You know I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if Kirsten went to prison for something she didn’t do.”
“You wouldn’t even let her go to prison for something she did do, idiot.” He laughed a little. It made me smile despite the seriousness of the situation. “Besides, it’s not as if you need to do anything illegal or unethical. All you need to do is your job. Do it well. Your firm will be ecstatic that you’ve received such a high-paying, high-profile client.”
“Yeah, just as long as I don’t screw up.”
“If you screw up, then trust me, your job security will be the last thing you’ll be worrying about.”
While Ian was a friend, he’d not blink an eye to hold me accountable if I screwed this up.
“I get it, so cool it with the threats.” I looked back at my clock, considering how late it already was. I knew I would not get much sleep tonight. “I need to prepare some shit if we’re going to get Kirsten out of the precinct tomorrow. They have probable cause, so they’ll fight tooth-and-nail to keep her detained, but I think I can pull some strings.”
“You’re a lifesaver, Rafe.”
“Flipping from thinly veiled death threats to unending praise?” I remarked, feigning shock. “Now there’s the Ian I know and barely tolerate.”
“Shut the hell up.”
“You’ll have her bail ready for tomorrow morning, I assume? It’s not gonna be cheap.”
“Dad and Patrick have already sorted it out. Patrick will get it from the bank tomorrow as soon as they’re open.”
“Great. Okay, I really need to go now, Ian. I have my work cut out for me if we’re gonna get your sister out tomorrow.”
“Honestly,” Ian began, “thank you, Rafe. I know this can’t be easy on you. But there’s nothing else we can do.”
“I know. Night, Ian.”
“Night, Rafe.”
With that, I was left with silence in the big kitchen—for precisely thirty seconds, when a sudden clamor in the hallway alerted me to the fact that somebody had decided that two in the morning was an acceptable time to wake me up had I been asleep.
I didn’t even make it to the kitchen door before Matt and Katya let themselves in and barged into the kitchen, their faces full of concern and exhaustion.
“What the hell are you two doing here?” I asked. “I thought you’d have headed back to your apartment.”
“As if I could leave you alone after everything that went down, Rafe,” Matt said as Katya sat down, letting out a long sigh. “We’d have gotten here earlier, only it’s not exactly like we could close Capone’s early.”
“You should have gone straight to bed, Matt. Katya looks like she’s about to pass out.”
Her eyes widened at the comment as she shook her head wildly from side to side. “There’s no way I could sleep after what just happened. Have you heard from Kirsten? Any clue who set her up? She must feel awful in that damn police station.”
Suddenly, I felt ashamed. Katya had known Kirsten for all of two seconds, and she never questioned Kirsten’s innocence. While I—who had known her all her life—had still doubted her for a moment. I felt despicable.
“I haven’t heard from her directly,” I replied, “but I just got off the phone with Ian. I will be defending her.”
Katya clapped her hands together in relief as Matt headed over to the kitchen liquor cabinet and returned with a bottle of vodka.
“I knew we had nothing to worry about.” Matt grinned as he poured us all shots. I chucked it down my throat like a man dying of thirst. “I know it’s not gonna be easy for you, working closely with her, Rafe. But you’re doing the right thing.”
“Okay, someone around here needs to give me the low-down on this whole Rafe and Kirsten thing before I just make something up,” Katya cut in.
I sighed. “Matt can tell you when you go to bed. I don’t think I can handle hearing the story again. It’s all I’ve been able to think about for days now.”
Matt clucked his tongue sympathetically. “Things are different now. If you clear Kirsten’s name, there’s nobody who would stand in your way as a couple. Not even Ian.”
“Ha. What a thing to say.”
“You look like you need sleep even more than Katya does.”
“Possibly, but I have a ton of paperwork to create before I can consider calling it a night.” I stood up, stretching my arms above my head as I worked a crack out of my neck. “I’ll be in Dad’s old study. Take whateve
r room you want.” I walked a few steps before I added, “Don’t you two crazy kids stay up too late.”
“Yes, Mom,” Matt and Katya responded in unison, eliciting a laugh from all three of us.
“Night, guys.”
“Night,” they returned.
I wandered down the hallway towards the ground floor study with a heavy heart. The plush carpet absorbed the sounds of my heavy footfalls to leave me once again in silence.
I had my work cut out for me.
I wish Kirsten were here. She’d know what to do in a second—she had always been sharp and quick-witted like that. It wasn’t as if her solutions were always flawless; indeed, sometimes they had actually gotten us into more trouble as kids, but she always did something, and that mattered.
I owed it to her to do something in return.
I would clear her name. I would find out who the asshole was who thought it was clever to frame the love of my life who ultimately could never be mine. And I would make them pay.
Chapter Seven
I always thought the sweetest words I would ever hear would be something like ‘I love you’ or ‘You mean the world to me’. Alas, we don’t get to choose these things.
“Your bail has been paid, Dr. O’Leary.”
There. Those words right there were the sweetest words I’d ever heard in my life. I had experienced probably the roughest night of my life—and also the most sleep deprived. I was desperate to get out of my dress and scrub the smell of prison from my skin in a steaming hot shower. I’d probably eat a burger and fries and then crash for two days.
I knew I’d never get to live out today like that. Some food and a shower weren’t too much to ask for, so I’d settle for those before tackling the mess my life had become.
When I saw my brothers, Patrick and Ian, waiting for me in the lobby, I almost cried. Almost. Ultimately, I was an O’Leary and still had my pride; besides, I had cried enough for a lifetime when I was alone in that shockingly cold holding cell.
I wasn’t above throwing myself at my brothers to receive a crushing, sibling bear hug.
Betting On Us (Wilde Love Book 3) Page 4
