An Act of Redemption: Order & Chaos Book 3

by Wolfe, Samantha

  "Jenny," Gareth touched my shoulder. "I know what I'm doing. Trust me."

  "Okay," I whispered as I schooled myself into a calm facade. I didn't want to look weak or rattled in any way. Ford was innocent and nothing they said or did could change that.

  A moment later, Joyce led the detectives into the room, a man, and a woman. The man looked middle-aged and was dressed in khaki slacks and a gray button-down shirt that were baggy and didn't fit him well. His hair was buzzed very short, and his dark eyes were intelligent and shrewd. He looked grim and unfriendly. Especially when he narrowed his eyes at Gareth.

  The female detective was a bit younger and far more professional with shoulder-length blond curls and kind blue eyes. She was dressed in gray slacks and a light-blue button-down shirt. She actually smiled as she entered the room. I suddenly wondered if they were going to try the good cop, bad cop thing on me. Yet again, I was grateful for Gareth's presence.

  He stepped forward and greeted them, subtly taking control of the situation. "Good afternoon, detectives. I'm Gareth Caxton. I represent Ford Spencer and Jenny Purcell here."

  "This is just a routine interview, and she's not a suspect, Caxton," the man said as he glowered at Gareth. "I don't see why she needs you here."

  "Well, Detective Warren, I'd rather err upon the side of caution where my clients are concerned," Gareth replied, his friendly tone belied by his fierce gaze. "I'd hate for her to be manipulated into saying something incriminating."

  Detective Warren's face hardened and he opened his mouth to reply, but the female detective interjected to deescalate the situation.

  "I'm Detective Graves." She stuck her hand out to shake Gareth's. "We're just here to ask a few questions." She shot a hard stare at her partner, who wisely shut his mouth. I was pretty sure that Gareth was baiting him, and it almost worked.

  "Of course," Gareth gave her that roguish grin of his, and from the sudden widening of her eyes, even she wasn't immune to his charm. He motioned toward the side of the long conference table opposite me. "Have a seat."

  The detectives sat down across from me and gave me unnerving and unreadable stares. Gareth sat next to me, his presence calming me somewhat, and stared right back at them, seemingly calm and unaffected by their intensity.

  "We'd like to ask you some questions regarding your relationship with Ford Spencer," Detective Graves began.

  I nodded, but didn't say anything. Following Gareth's instructions by not saying anything, unless I was asked an actual question.

  "How long have you known Ford?" she asked.

  I glanced at Gareth to see his almost imperceptible nod. "We've been dating since late July," I answered.

  "Is it serious?" she continued.

  "Yes," I answered immediately.

  "So you're in love with him," she stated.

  It wasn't a question, so I didn't respond.

  "Do you trust him?"

  "Yes." I nodded with certainty.

  "Has he ever mentioned a woman named Sarina Wilkinson to you?"

  "Yes." So far, so good. I could handle these kinds of questions. Maybe I could do this.

  "What has he told you about her?" Detective Warren asked. I could tell that he was getting annoyed with my single word answers. I glanced at Gareth again, and he nodded.

  "Just that they dated for a month before we met, and that he broke up with her."

  "Did he ever mention anything they did together?" he asked.

  "No."

  His eyes narrowed at me in irritation. "No mention of any sex acts, say involving rope or some kind of bondage with her, at all? Not one thing like that?"

  "My client has already answered that question," Gareth interjected irritably. "That is, unless your grasp of the English language has escaped you, detective."

  Detective Warren seemed to ignore him, but he did change direction for his next question. "Has he ever suggested doing or has he already done any sex acts like that with you?"

  I felt my face flame red. I'd never discussed anything intimate that Ford and I did together in any detail with anyone. I didn't want to. It was special, and it was ours. I didn't want to talk about it with people who would twist it into something sick and salacious. Especially since he'd worded it to sound like Ford had done something to me, and answering would sound like an admission.

  After a long moment, Detective Graves leaned forward with a sympathetic expression. "Has he hurt you, Jenny?" she asked gravely. She completely misread my reticence to answer that unbelievably personal question. "Has he threatened you in any way? If he has, we can help you get away from him."

  "Ford would never hurt me," I snapped out, incensed that she'd even suggested something like that. "He's a good man. He's never threatened me or forced me to do anything we've done together. Just because he likes to tie women up for sex doesn't make him a rapist."

  Gareth stiffened slightly next to me, and I realized what I'd done. Fuck. He'd told me not to babble and only answer what I was asked. What have I done? My stomach dropped and sudden nausea hit me hard, and I feared I might actually vomit.

  "So you're saying he's tied you up, and he's admitted to doing the same to other women in the past?" Warren asked as a victorious smirk pulled up at one corner of his mouth. "That sounds suspiciously like rape to me."

  I looked at Gareth helplessly, afraid I'd find him livid with me, but amazingly he appeared calm and unperturbed. I was thankful when he fielded the question. I was too afraid of fucking up again to say anything else. "My client has only admitted to engaging in consensual sex and bondage with Mr. Spencer. Nothing she's said could be construed as an admission of rape in any way, detective. Millions of people engage in some form of sexual bondage every day, and the authorities aren't going around accusing them of rape."

  "No," Warren admitted grudgingly, then gave him a contemptuous expression. "But in this case, someone else has accused him. We don't take rape allegations lightly, Mr. Caxton, and if some sick bastard is going around binding women and forcing himself on them for kicks, then we have an obligation to investigate it."

  "Well, obviously you've already decided for yourself what the actual truth is, without any evidence or anything else substantiating your ridiculous claims." Gareth leveled a hard stare at Detective Warren, who unconsciously shrank back a little under his intimidating gaze. "I won't have my client's words twisted into something that they're not, yet again, so this interview is over," Gareth announced as he stood. I leapt up and crowded close to him. "I'll let you find your own way out of here, detectives. I just hope you have a better sense of direction than your deficient investigative skills. Good day," Gareth added scathingly, then put an arm around my shoulders and led me from the room without another word.

  He took me back to my office and shut the door behind us. I turned to find Gareth standing there with his eyes closed, his entire body rigid with tension and his hands clenched into tight fists. He looked like he was ready to punch something. Guilt and remorse hit me hard.

  "I'm sorry," I sobbed out as I began to cry. "I...I wasn't thinking...and...and I was just...just trying to defend Ford. I am so sorry that I fucked everything up."

  He huffed out a sudden breath and opened his eyes. "Jenny, I am not angry with you." His harsh voice wasn't making me feel any better, regardless of his words. "What I'm angry at is shitty fucking detectives like Warren, who make snap judgments that blind them to everything but what they want to see. That's why I never take the police's word on anything, and why I have my own investigator."

  I hung my head and stared at the floor as tears poured out of me. "I still feel like I fucked up," I whispered sadly.

  "You didn't fuck up," Gareth said in a gentle tone as he stepped forward and placed a hand on my shoulder. "They purposefully baited you into that, and I'm sorry I didn't intervene fast enough to help you."

  I looked up to see his sympathetic face through a curtain of tears. "Are you sure?" I asked softly. If Ford lost his case because of me, I'd never fo
rgive myself.

  "Jenny," he said reassuringly. "You didn't give them any information they weren't going to find out anyway. You defended the man you love, and it's okay."

  I nodded, trying to let the guilt go, but not succeeding very well.

  Gareth phone suddenly rang. He pulled it out of his suit jacket, and he met my eyes as he answered it. "What can I do for you, Ford?"

  Icy dread coursed through me at the mention of Ford's name. Now what?

  Gareth's face was unreadable as he listened. I could hear Ford's deep rumble, but couldn't make out the exact words.

  "I'll be right there," he answered brusquely. "Sit tight." He ended the call and shoved his phone back in his jacket. His expression was tense.

  "W...what is it?" I asked tremulously.

  He sighed heavily. "The police just showed up at Ford's place with a search warrant."

  The dread instantly morphed into terror. Without another word, Gareth turned to leave, and I followed close behind, wondering how much more shit could be thrown at me today, before I shattered completely.

  Chapter 6

  Ford

  "I'm fine, Mom," I reassured her yet again as I paced my living room with my phone pressed to my ear. "Really." I wondered how many times I could say it to make it true. I wasn't going to tell Mom that I was a mess. She'd probably insist on coming over, and I just didn't have it in me to deal with her emotional chaos right now.

  "Ford, honey," Mom said tremulously. "You don't sound like yourself, and I'm worried."

  "Ford!" I heard Angel's voice call up the stairwell to my apartment. "I'm coming up!" Fuck, now what? I just wanted to be left alone right now. Wallowing in self-pity was easier in private. There wouldn't be anyone trying to cheer me up or asking if I was okay. The only person I really wanted to see was Jenny, and she was at work. She was the sole thing making my life bearable right now, and she wasn't here. I didn't want to deal with anyone else.

  "Mom, I'll be okay. I promise," I told her in exasperation. "I have to go, Angel's here. I'll call you later. Okay? I love you." She was still talking as I ended the call. I should have felt bad, but I was too annoyed to care at this point.

  I was standing there rubbing my temples to stave off the headache that was threatening when Angel walked into my living room. She was smiling and holding up a bag from the deli down the street that I loved. "I brought you a turkey club."

  Shit, I never ate lunch, and it was already mid afternoon. I'd gone back to bed after Jenny left this morning since I didn't know what else to do, and slept for a few more hours. Then I sat and streamed a few episodes of Sons of Anarchy for a while until my fucked-up head couldn't manage to follow the plot anymore. When Mom called, I'd been sitting with my sketch book staring at the portrait I drew of Jenny yesterday while contemplating a life in prison without her. It made my chest ache just thinking about it. Mom knew immediately that something was off when I answered her call. It was obvious to her that I'd been crying, but I went into denial mode to keep her from insisting on coming over.

  "Ford?" Angel asked worriedly as her smile faded, and I realized I'd just been standing here staring at her wordlessly.

  "Sorry," I mumbled out. "I was talking to Mom."

  "Ah." She nodded in understanding as she walked toward me. "I went to lunch late and figured you'd be hungry, so I brought you a sandwich back. I know you forget to eat when you're upset."

  I opened my mouth to tell her that I was fine, and I wasn't upset, but Nick's words from yesterday about letting the people I cared about support me when I needed it popped into my head. I snapped my mouth shut. He was right.

  "Thanks, Angel," I said quietly as I took the bag from her. She followed me over to my couch, and we both sat down. I pulled the bag open to find a huge sandwich, chips, and a cookie. My stomach woke up and growled loudly. Angel smirked at me as she grabbed the TV remote and turned it on.

  "Don't you have work to do?" I asked her jokingly as I unwrapped my sandwich.

  Her smirk disappeared. "Not really," she said with a pained expression. "Um, we've had a lot of cancellations today, and no walk-ins at all."

  "How many cancellations?" I asked as a pit of fear opened up in my stomach. "All of them?"

  "No," she said softly. I sighed in relief that was short lived. "Some of them just didn't show up."

  "Fuck me," I whispered dejectedly as I stared at my sandwich. When would this end? Would this end? Holy hell, I just wanted my life back.

  She sighed. "There's something else too." I looked up to see her worried eyes. "Some woman showed up downstairs asking about you around noon. She said she was interested in getting a tattoo from you. When I said you were unavailable she started fishing for more information. She was nosy as hell, and I knew something wasn't right, so I hedged and dodged her questions until she got fed up and left. I almost wondered if she was a reporter or something."

  "What was her name?" I asked, thinking she was probably right, and Gareth needed to know someone was sniffing around here.

  "Mary or Marie Hopkins, I think." She shook her head. "She rubbed me the wrong way."

  "I'm sorry, Angel," I said as I gave her a pained expression.

  "For what?' she asked in confusion.

  "That you've had to deal with all this fallout." I felt my eyes sting. "That you've lost clients and your own income because of me. I don't want this to ruin your career too."

  "Ford, this hasn't ruined your career." Her face was so sincere.

  "Hasn't it?" I asked bitterly. "Even if I don't get convicted, people won't forget. I'll always be associated with being accused of rape."

  "You don't know that."

  The doorbell rang before I could reply. "Now what?" I snarled out. I slapped my untouched food down on the coffee table and stalked across the room to go answer the door. I got to the foot of the steps, and peered through the peephole. My heart squeezed with terror. It was the police, and suddenly, all I could think about was that goddamn cell, and how trapped and helpless I'd felt. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I whispered as I pressed my forehead against the door. I clamped my eyes shut and tried to control my sudden ragged breathing as panic streaked through me.

  "Ford?" Angel called down to me. "Who is it?"

  I whirled around to see her at the top of the steps. "It's the goddamn cops again." My voice was harsh and broken. "I...I can't do it again, Angel. I can't be caged like a...like a fucking animal again."

  She hurried down to me with a sympathetic expression, and grabbed my hands. "Just because they're here doesn't mean they're taking you into custody again. You paid your bail, and they let you go."

  The doorbell rang once more, followed by a pounding on the door. The sound set off the panic again as I stared at the door. I wanted to ignore it and hide in my room.

  "Hey," she said firmly. "Look at me."

  I obeyed and gripped her hands tightly. Her gaze was the only thing holding me together right now. I think I was on the verge of an actual panic attack. I'd never had one before, and this out of control feeling was a fucking nightmare for me. I was a man who liked control, needed it, and now I didn't have it. It was fucking with my head like nothing ever had before.

  "You're going to be okay, Ford," she said firmly. "They're probably just here to talk to you. I'm here with you, and you'll be okay."

  I nodded. It wasn't like I had a choice either. If I didn't answer the door now, they'd just come back later anyway, or worse case, force their way in. I let go of Angel's hands and took a deep shuddering breath, then turned and opened the door before I lost my nerve.

  Two male police officers stood there looking grim and serious. "Sir," the one on the left said. I recognized him as one of the officers who came to arrest me a few days ago. "We have a search warrant for your apartment, and you need to let us in."

  I just stood there staring at them in shock. As if I hadn't been violated enough already this week, now strangers were going to go through my things, be in my private and personal space. The
panic started licking at my again like searing flames, and I could feel myself starting to lose it.

  "Sir," the other officer said sternly. "You either step aside and let us in, or we'll use force. The choice is yours."

  "There's no need for that, officer," Angel cut in as she grabbed my arm. I mindlessly let her pull me away from the doorway. "We don't want any trouble. Right, Ford?"

  "Y...yeah," I mumbled numbly.

  "We'll need to detain both of you on the premises until we're done," one officer said as they stepped through the doorway. "Is there anyone else in the residence?"

  "No, sir," I answered absently. I watched helplessly as two more officers, that I hadn't seen yet, appeared in the doorway. The first two headed upstairs, and Angel grabbed my arm and pulled me along after them. The other two officers followed closely behind us.

  When we got to my living room, Angel dragged me over to my couch and pulled me down onto it with her. I watched in horrified fascination while two officers went through each room of my apartment to confirm no one else was here, and two stayed in the living room eying Angel and me closely. What did they think I was going to do, attack them?

  "Shouldn't you call Gareth?" Angel asked as she touched my knee gently. Fuck, she was right, but my brain seemed to have shut down any cohesive thought. I reached across to get my phone off the coffee table, and one of the officers tensed, his hand moving toward his sidearm. It pissed me off, and I blurted out the first thing that popped into my head without thinking.

  "I'm just getting my fucking phone to call my lawyer, asshole. What the hell do you think I'm going to do, throw it at you?" I snarled out angrily.

  The officer stiffened as his eyes turned hard. "Sir, you need to calm down."

  "Calm down?" I asked in a low growl, incensed by his attitude. "I'm being violated in my own home, and you expect me to calm down?"

  "Ford," Angel said scoldingly as she grabbed my forearm fiercely. "Stop. They're just doing their job. Don't make this worse."