Prisoner of Love

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by Lorraine Bartlett

“That depends on your point of view.”

  My hand tightened on the receiver, and a puddle began to form around my already soggy shoes. “Hit me with the bad news first.”

  “We probably won’t be chatting on the phone much in the future. Too bad. I’ve so enjoyed our conversations.”

  I frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “Dave’s tests came back negative, proving he couldn’t have raped that woman.”

  A wave of giddiness passed through me. I fell into one of my kitchen chairs. “Thank God,” I breathed. “When—when will they release him?”

  “If we’re lucky, within the week. I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Oh, Jared, thank you. I’m so happy I could kiss you.”

  “I’m so happy I would let you,” he said.

  Jared and I spoke often during the next few days, we even met for lunch so that I could inspect the paperwork that would set Dave free.

  He reached for my hand over coffee. “You’re a remarkable woman, Rhonda. You have a lot of love to give. I just hope you’ll be happy. That you truly know….” His words trailed off and he turned his gaze to our clasped fingers.

  I studied Jared’s face, noticing the fine lines etched around his eyes, and the sadness in them. Why did I have to meet him now, when I was so in love in Dave? Jared possessed everything I’d always wanted in a man: strength, integrity, and most of all kindness.

  If things had been only different….

  I pulled my hand back, feeling disloyal to Dave.

  “You’ve been a good friend, Jared. Dave and I will always be grateful to you.”

  Jared’s lips pursed. He looked like he wanted to say something more, but the waitress approached the table and set the check before him.

  I gathered up my purse. “I’ll see you in court,” I said, and fled the restaurant.

  Three days later, Dave and Jared stood before the judge. I sat behind the defense table, beaming with pride in my soon-to-be husband, and happy to be able to tell Marla “I told you so.”

  The judge called Dave to stand before his bench.

  “It is with great regret that this court must agree that you were wrongfully convicted and imprisoned for the crime of rape. You are hereby set free.”

  There were papers to sign before the judge finally banged his gavel.

  Dave turned to Jared. “Thanks, Mr. Stanhope. I don’t know what else to say.” He offered his hand and they shook.

  Jared glanced at me. “You can thank Miss Roberts. It was her faith in you that persuaded me to take the case.”

  Dave’s smile was wistful. “Thank you, Rhonda.”

  I moved to stand behind the man I loved, giving him a quick kiss. Dave seemed embarrassed, and my love for him swelled.

  “Call me in a day or so,” Jared told Dave. “Next we go after the State for damages. They owe you nine years of your life. Or at least the financial equivalent.”

  The court continued to empty and I clasped Dave’s sweating hand.

  “This means a new beginning for us,” I said.

  Dave hung his head, his smile fading. “I’m afraid it doesn’t, Rhonda.”

  “Honey?” came a voice from the open doorway.

  Dave’s head snapped up, his eyes alight with pure joy.

  A petite blonde, in her early twenties, dressed in a dark blue tailored suit, with matching pumps and purse, stood framed in the doorway before us. Dave rushed to her side, kissed her mouth, and they embraced.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she said breathlessly.

  “You’re here now,” he said and smiled at her.

  For a moment I just stood there, too dumbfounded to speak, groping for a possible explanation. His sister? A very affectionate cousin?

  Dave pulled back, clasped her hand and led her forward.

  “Rhonda, I want you to meet Sue Abrams. My fiancée.”

  “Your…fian—” I choked on the word.

  How could this be? How could—?

  “But, you and I. I thought….”

  “You’ve been a wonderful friend, Rhonda. The best. Without you, Sue and I wouldn’t have a chance at a future together.”

  “Wait a minute,” I cried. “What about all those letters? What about all those visits to the prison? Didn’t you understand how I felt about you, how I—”

  “I tried to let you down gently,” Dave said, looking at Sue for support. “If you remember, I never talked about a future together. You were…my pen pal. I’m afraid that’s all you ever were.”

  He couldn’t have hurt me more if he’d slapped me.

  “But after I told you I loved you, you said you shared those feelings.”

  “I do love you. As a friend.”

  “But the love poetry…. I thought you were writing about me—about us!”

  Dave shook his head. “I’m sorry, Rhonda. I truly am.”

  I didn’t know what to say—couldn’t utter a word.

  “Jared thinks I’ll get a big settlement from the State,” Dave continued. “I’ll repay you for all the legal fees. It’s the least I can do.”

  The least he could do? I still couldn’t speak.

  “We’d better go,” Sue said, looking embarrassed. “Thank you, Miss Roberts, for all you’ve done for Dave.”

  Tears were streaming down my cheeks.

  Dave’s mouth moved, but no words came out. Then, still clasping Sue’s hand, he turned and led her from the empty courtroom.

  I sank into one of the hard wooden chairs. How could I have been such a sap? How many other women had Dave been writing to? Had they all fallen for his golden words like I had?

  Dave wasn’t a rapist—but he was a heel.

  But if I was honest with myself, I should’ve seen how in recent months how his attitude toward me had changed. His manner, in his letters and during our visits, had become restrained. I’d taken it as a sign he was worried about the ruling. Instead, he’d been corresponding—falling in love—with Sue. She was younger and prettier than me.

  I’d spent thousands of dollars to free the man from jail, and all I had to show for it was a stack of canceled checks.

  I bowed my head, the tears coming faster now, the sounds of my sobs echoing in that cavernous room.

  Suddenly a hand thrust a handkerchief before my swimming eyes. I looked up to see Jared Stanhope standing over me, his patient face filled with compassion.

  “You knew?” I asked.

  He nodded solemnly. “I suspected for some time. Dave only told me yesterday. I’m sorry, Rhonda.”

  I wiped my eyes and blew my nose. Jared sat down beside me.

  “It’s not the end of the world, you know,” he said.

  “Oh, no? I look like a fool. I look like—”

  “A woman of great compassion, who’d go to the ends of the earth to see that justice prevailed,” he finished for me. “Don’t take what you’ve done lightly. You proved Dave was innocent, got him released from jail. That’s no easy feat.”

  “I’ve been stupid. What will my friends—my sister—think when they find out about this?”

  “You only have to live with yourself. And I’d say you should feel proud.”

  I dabbed at my eyes. I didn’t feel proud. I felt like a jerk.

  “I know it’s early,” Jared said, “but I wonder if you’d be interested in having dinner with me?”

  I looked into those kind blue eyes. He was just being nice. But right then, I needed someone to be nice to me. I needed someone’s compassion. I needed a friend.

  “You don’t have to—” I started to protest.

  Jared touched my lips with his finger to stop me. A quiver of excitement went through me.

  “Maybe Dave only looked at you as a friend, but I’d like to get to know you on a more personal basis. That is, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  I blinked at Jared’s sincere face. “Really?”

  His smile was sincere. “Really.” He rose from the chair and offered me his hand.

  I took it, and
we walked out of the courtroom together.

  About the Author

  A native of Rochester, NY, Lorraine Bartlett honed her characterization and plotting skills as a frequent writer for romance magazines and was a finalist in the St. Martin’s/Malice Domestic contest.

  Bartlett also writes the New York Times Bestselling and Agatha-nominated Booktown Mystery series under the name of Lorna Barrett. Bookplate Special, the third book in the series, was nominated for an Agatha Award for best novel of 2009.

  Bartlett’s Victoria Square Mystery series debuted in February of 2011 with A Crafty Killing.

  Visit her website at: http://www.lorrainebartlett.com/

  (You can also find her on Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter.)

  Also by

  Lorraine Bartlett

  The Victoria Square Mysteries

  A Crafty Killing

  The Walled Flower

  One Hot Murder

  Recipes To Die For: A Victoria Square Cookbook

  Short Stories:

  An Unconditional Love

  Love Heals

  Prisoner of Love

  We’re So Sorry, Uncle Albert

  L.L. Bartlett

  The Jeff Resnick Mysteries

  Murder On The Mind (2005)

  Dead In Red (2008)

  Cheated by Death (2010)

  Bound By Suggestion (2011)

  Short Stories:

  When The Spirit Moves You

  Bah! Humbug: A Jeff Resnick Mystery

  Cold Case: A Jeff Resnick Mystery

  Abused: A Daughter’s Story

  Lorna Barrett

  The Booktown Mysteries

  Murder Is Binding (2008)

  Bookmarked For Death (2009)

  Bookplate Special (2009)

  Chapter & Hearse (2010)

  Sentenced To Death (2011)

  Murder On The Half Shelf (2012)

  The Chamber Plot (2013)

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