by Beth Yarnall
Cora’s mouth opens and closes. She looks to me and I nod in encouragement. My dad’s right. She is a natural. She’d be a great asset to the agency.
“Can I think about it?” she asks.
“Sure. It’ll take some time to get a new office set up. Let me know when you decide.” Dad stands to go.
“Thank you.” Cora leaps up and throws her arms around Dad. “For everything. You’ve given me so much more than I can ever repay. Thank you for taking a chance on me. And Beau. If he were here, he’d shake your hand.” She releases him and wipes away a tear. “Thank you.”
Dad clears his throat. “You’re welcome.”
I walk him to the door.
“You okay?” he asks.
“No, but I’ll live.”
“I take it things didn’t work out between the two of you.”
“Something like that.”
“I’m sorry. She’s…one of a kind. I liked the way she didn’t put up with your bullshit.”
“I did too.”
I close the door after him. There’s only one more goodbye to make. And it’s the hardest I’ll ever have to endure. How do you say goodbye to someone who changed your life? How do you go and leave a piece of yourself behind?
Chapter 35
Cora
When I first started visiting Beau I never thought I’d get used to the procedures you have to go through to enter a prison. Now they’re almost routine. What’s not routine is the jolt I get when I first see him. Time and repetition have not dulled that moment. It’s a shock every time. It’s no different this time, except the tears burning the backs of my eyes. We’re soldiers in the same war. I want to run to him and hit him hard, throwing my arms around him.
Instead, I walk sedately across the room and sit down across the table from him. I don’t comment on the fresh stitches above his left eye or the cuts on his knuckles.
“Hi,” I say in my most cheerful voice. “How are you?”
“Better than you.” He leans across the table, a line of worry between his brows. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I’m smiling, but a tear leaks out. “Everything’s great. You won’t believe what’s happened.”
“Did someone die?”
“No.” I sniff and wipe at my face. “Your case is being reopened. A judge agreed to hear the new evidence. The lawyers of the Freedom Project say there’s a really good chance you’ll be exonerated.”
“Are you serious?”
“It’ll take some time, but you could be free by Christmas.” I’m crying so hard now, it’s a wonder he can understand me at all.
He sits back in his chair and stares off at nothing. He doesn’t speak for so long I think that maybe he didn’t understand me.
“Did you hear what I said?”
He nods. “I just don’t believe it.”
“It’s true.”
“But it’s not for sure.”
“No, it’s not for sure.”
I tell him how Damien LeFeaux recanted his testimony. I tell him about Mrs. Wheeler and her notebooks. I tell him about the hair found in Cassandra’s bed that’s a match to Paul Winfro. I tell him about Winfro and about how he’s going on trial for attempted murder in Mexico. I tell him about how impressed the people at the Freedom Project were with how easy we’ve made their job.
I don’t tell him about Leo and me. I don’t tell him about Dylan and Cassandra. I don’t tell him that our dad’s in the hospital for alcohol poisoning…again. I don’t tell him what our mom said when I told her Beau could be freed. And I don’t tell him that it was Winfro seeing Beau leave Cassandra’s apartment that night that drove him to rape and murder her, because in Winfro’s mind they were a couple and she cheated on him with Beau.
When I’m done speaking I see something in my brother that I haven’t seen since before Cassandra died—hope. I want to start crying all over again. The rush of relief is so great I nearly sag from it. We’re in the home stretch.
He doesn’t speak for a long time. There’s so much to absorb. I lived it and I still get overwhelmed when I think about it all.
“I don’t—” His voice cracks. He puts his face in his hands and takes a deep, shaky breath. When he lowers them his eyes are red from unshed tears. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Oh, Beau. I wanted this for you for so long. I’m just so sorry it’s taken almost six years.”
“Sorry? Jesus, Cora. What do you have to be sorry about?”
More than I have words for. There’s so much more that needs to be fixed.
“Thank you for not listening to me when I told you to fuck off and stop investigating. Thank you for being the only person”—he digs the heels of his hands into his eyes and takes a breath—“who believed in me.”
I want to reach across the table and take his hand. More than that I want to hold him and tell him everything’s going to be okay.
He rubs his eyes. When his hands fall away I can see that his eyelashes are clumped and wet. “Are you going to get a life now?”
“I have a life.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“What happened with Leo?”
I rub my lips together and look away.
“Ah, shit, Cora. Really? You fucked that up because of me, didn’t you?”
“It’s fucked up, but not because of you.”
“I liked him for you. He seemed like the kind of guy who would call you on your shit.”
I nod. “He did that.” Too well.
“So what happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“Bullshit.”
“Okay, I know. I fucked it up.”
“Because of me.”
I don’t meet his gaze.
“Goddamn it, Cora. You gotta stop this shit. Get a life. You’ve put yours off for too long because of me. Go get him back or else I’m not going to talk to you when I get out.”
I jerk my head up. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say that. You finally believe you’re going to get out of here.”
“It only took two thousand one hundred and—”
“Fifty-three days,” I finish for him.
He stares at me in disbelief. “Fuck me, Cora. You may as well be doing time in the cell next to me.”
I feel almost as though I have.
“That’s it.” He gets up from the table. “Don’t visit me. Don’t write me. Don’t talk to me until you get your shit together. I have enough to deal with in here without being responsible for fucking up your life too. You’re not putting that on me.” He storms out without a backward glance.
I can’t move. He’s never spoken to me like that before.
A guard approaches the table. “Time to go.”
“Right. Okay.”
I get up and go through the routine of getting out of this hellhole. The drive through the desert is a blur. I don’t remember the songs that played on the radio. I take the wrong freeway and keep going. I’m going to get my life back.
Chapter 36
Leo
I hate my criminal law professor. I should be at a party with my roommate, getting shitfaced. Instead, I’m working on some bullshit side project that gets me an in with him but doesn’t do shit for my grade. The doorbell rings. Finally. I swear. For as many times as we order pizza from this place, they never seem to get it here while it’s still hot.
I swing the door open, my hand on my ass ready to pull my wallet out, and freeze.
“Hi.” Cora. On my doorstep. “Can I come in?” She shifts from foot to foot, her gaze sweeping the interior of my apartment.
“Ahh, yeah. Sure.” I hold the door open for her. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” She walks past me and her scent hits me with memories.
I close the door and point to the couch. “Have a seat.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you want something to drink?”
“No, thanks.”
We’re so fucking polite.
We sit in awkward silence. It’s been sixty-three days since I’ve seen her. You’d think her impact on me would’ve been lessened by them, but no. I’m just as fucked where she’s concerned as the day I watched her drive away from Mike’s house.
“I saw Beau today.”
“Yeah? How’s he doing?”
“Good. I told him the good news.”
“He must be relieved.”
“Yeah, he is.”
“I’m glad. I hope everything works out with the hearing.”
“Me too.”
“Why are you here?” I think I have the right to ask that after everything.
She rubs her palms on her jeans. “I came to tell you that you were right.”
“About what?”
“Me. Us. Everything.”
What does she expect me to say? There is no “us” for me to be right about.
I jab a thumb over my shoulder. “I have a project due Monday.”
“Right. Sorry. I’ll get to the point.”
She digs her palms into her thighs. I notice all of her fingernails are bitten down to nothing. The makeup around her eyes is smudged and missing in places. There’s a tear in her shirt. She’s lost weight. And her hair, always so perfect before, is black before the blue starts. But there’s not a woman in the world who compares to her.
She turns her body fully toward me. “What I said to you that day on the beach. It’s true. It’s more true now than it was then. Everything with Beau isn’t settled. The hearing might not go his way. I’m going to take a chance here because if I don’t he might never speak to me again.”
“Is that why you’re here, because he made you come?”
She shakes her head. “No. Beau’s never been able to make me do anything. Pisses him off.”
“I know the feeling,” I mumble.
“Anyway, he said something that was a lot like something you said and it got me thinking. About life and about how I’ve been doing time like him except on the outside. And I realized that even when he gets out I’ll still think of reasons why I can’t move on until he does. It could be forever, maybe. Or not at all, if the judge decides there’s not enough evidence to free him.
“I looked into the future and it scared the shit out of me. I can’t go on like I have been. And I especially can’t go on without you. Because I love you and I want you in my life. I want you to be sitting next to me, holding my hand, when the judge delivers his decision. And I want to go home with you and deal with whatever that decision is. So I’m here asking if you still feel the same about me and if you’re willing to walk through the uncertainty with me.”
My body moves before my brain tells it to. I’m kneeling in front of her, taking her hands in mine. They feel small and strange and familiar all at the same time. She’s crying when I kiss her. I can’t believe I went so long without touching her and kissing her.
“I love you,” she whispers against my mouth.
“Oh, God. I love you too, Bluebird.”
Epilogue
Beau
I forgot how stiff shirt collars feel and how dress pants ride up and crush your nuts. I yank on my collar for the trillionth time and glance over my shoulder at Cora. She’s sitting next to Leo on the hard-assed bench two rows back. He’s holding both of her hands in his. I’m glad she finally moved on and got a fucking life. Half of rotting in prison was me wanting to pound the walls and half was me worrying that my screwed-up life somehow screwed hers up too.
My new attorney leans in and whispers something to me. I can’t hear anything she says. If I close my eyes I wouldn’t even be able to say what she looks like. All of my focus is on the judge. He’s glancing through some papers, riffling through them casually, like he’s reading a fucking novel on the beach. Everyone in the room is on pins and needles, and it’s a regular afternoon for him.
He picks up the gavel and bangs it. He blathers on about the justice system and the balances of justice and some other bullshit I couldn’t care less about. One of the takeaways from my justice-system experience is that judges love to hear the sound of their own voices. They love to expound on the greatness of our country’s justice system.
They haven’t been bent over and fucked in the ass by it.
If they had, they might not think it was so fantastic.
I realize he’s addressing me, so I sit up in my seat. I’m playing a role like everyone else in the room. I have to look honest while everyone in the room judges my sincerity. I have to look contrite while everyone tries to figure out if I’m really guilty or not. I have to look worthy while everyone decides if I’m worthwhile.
“Mr. Hollis. I sincerely regret the way in which your case was handled. I hope you find meaning in your experiences and are able to create a life of profound goodness and honor. It is my pleasure to reverse the verdict set down by this court. Mr. Hollis, you are a free man. God bless you. And God bless the United States of America.” He bangs the gavel. “We’re dismissed.”
The courtroom erupts. There’s so much noise. My attorney is saying something about filing this and that. I turn in my seat and find Cora. Her face is streaked with tears. She holds a hand out to me.
I’m free.
After two thousand, two hundred seventy-one days, I’m free.
For Hannah Beth, who left us too soon
And as always, for my husband, Mr. Y, for buying into and supporting every single one of my crazy Lucy-and-Ethel schemes…including the one where I thought I could write a book
Acknowledgments
Oh, wow. Where to begin?
Supreme thanks to my agent, Courtney Miller-Callihan, who took a risk in showing this series with only three chapters and a synopsis to recommend it. And to my editor, Sue Grimshaw, who saw something in those pages that made her want the books and for helping me shape them into something I’m very proud of. Many thanks to Debra Mullins, Charity Hammond, and Alison Diem. You prop up my words and make me feel like my voice matters. To the ladies of The Keeper Shelf, the mighty, mighty unicorns—you’re my New York. I couldn’t do any of this without you. I’m so very lucky to have the love and support of my parents and sister, who show up for events and book signings and proofread all of my books. If there are any errors, they’re totally on them, not me. And to my husband and sons, who put up with me dragging my laptop on vacations, writing night and day, and eating a lot of take-out dinners. We’re a little bit closer to that pool, boys.
BY BETH YARNALL
Recovered Innocence Novels
Vindicate
Atone
PHOTO: SCOTT YARNALL
Bestselling author BETH YARNALL writes mysteries, romantic suspense novels, and the occasional hilarious tweet. A storyteller since her playground days, Yarnall remembers her friends asking her to make up stories of how the person “died” in the slumber-party game Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board, so it’s little wonder she prefers writing stories in which people meet unfortunate ends. In middle school she discovered romance novels, which inspired her to write a spoof of soap operas for the school’s newspaper. She hasn’t stopped writing since.
For a number of years, Yarnall made her living as a hairstylist and makeup artist, and even owned a salon. Somehow hairstylists and salons seem to find their way into her stories. Beth lives with her husband, two sons, and their rescue dog in Southern California, where she is hard at work on her next novel.
bethyarnall.com
Facebook.com/BethYarnallAuthor
@BethYarnall
The Editor’s Corner
Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November…wait, it is November, and Loveswept is releasing some of our best books of the year! Check out these fabulous romances:
New York Times bestselling author Marquita Valentine releases her second new novel in her Boys of the South spin-off series Take the Fall series with When We Fall, in which a small-town sweetheart takes a chance on the bad boy who’s al
ways been her hottest fantasy. Another Loveswept New York Times bestselling author, Tracy Wolff introduces her new Hotwired series with Accelerate, where an unassuming passenger is taken for the ride of her life. New York Times bestselling author A. Meredith Walters releases a powerful romance akin to The Fault in Our Stars with Butterfly Dreams. Then, welcome to Thistle Bend! A charming series debut from Tracy March, Should’ve Said No introduces a small town where old secrets are revealed—and wounded hearts are opened to new love. And in a short novel, Rebecca Rogers Maher’s Rolling in the Deep, two kindred spirits share a winning lottery ticket—and discover what it really means to get lucky.
Sports fans were introduced last month to the Aces Hockey series by Kelly Jamieson with Major Misconduct, and this month Kelly releases a holiday romance, Off Limits. Book two in the Recovered Innocence series by Beth Yarnall features a San Diego investigative team with a soft spot for lost causes and a passion for redemption in Vindicate. And Taking It Off, by USA Today bestselling author Claire Kent introduces you to Matt Stokes, the sexy-as-sin male stripper and club owner who knows what it really means to bare everything. Jessica Lemmon’s irresistible Lost Boys series kicks off with Fighting for Devlin the story of a good girl who plays by the rules—and the bad boy who brings out her wild side. And in Cecy Robson’s O’Brien Family series debut, two total opposites find that the flames of desire are still smoldering in Once Kissed.
For historical romance fans, Sharon Cullen’s The Reluctant Duchess ignites as a shy country girl and a hotheaded duke surrender to dangerous temptations. Then it’s on to Scotland for USA Today bestselling author Jennifer Haymore’s Highland Knights and the first book in this new series, Highland Heat, an electrifying tale of class warfare, fierce loyalties, and forbidden love.
