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Trailed Page 51

by Naomi Niles


  My thoughts flickered to Jackson for a moment, and I kept veering between extreme anger and complete confusion.

  One thing I knew was that Jackson had known what he was doing this whole time. His expression back at the bar when we had both been arrested had admitted as much. What baffled me was why he had done it. Had he wanted to make money that badly? And even if that were the case, why drag me into it? I couldn’t understand he had gone through with all of this. It was beyond me.

  I fixated on Jackson for only a moment before my thoughts turned once again to Mia. Her words kept screaming in my head every few minutes, and no matter what I did, I could not escape the accusation in her tone or the way she had looked at me. There was more than just shock there. There was disappointment, too. I hated that I had disappointed her, and somehow it seemed to me that making her believe my story would solve all my problems.

  A loud sound came through from outside my jail cell, followed by footsteps. I ignored them until they stopped right outside my cell.

  “Get up, Burbank,” the raspy voice of Officer Penn said. “You have a visitor.”

  Wrinkling my eyebrows, I got out of the uncomfortable cot and turned around towards the bars of my cell. A second later, Peter stepped into the depressing muted light of the jail. Even though I couldn’t see him clearly, I could tell he was upset and probably disappointed, too. I swallowed my feelings and took a step forward.

  “Hi, big brother,” I said. “Goes to show… I have to get arrested for you to pay me a visit for once.”

  Peter didn’t even crack a smile. He just stared at me until the smile faded from my face. “I’m just trying to lighten the mood,” I mumbled.

  Peter looked around. “Look at where you are, Samuel.”

  “Samuel,” I repeated. “Geez, this is worse than I thought.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step towards the bars. “Is this a fucking joke to you?”

  I bit my lip and shook my head. “I’m sorry… I just… This is not a joke. I know that. But, Pete, I didn’t do anything. I swear.”

  “They’re saying that they’ve brought you up on charges of money laundering. And, Sam, they have proof. They have your name on several documents and financial statements.”

  “I know.”

  “You know?” he repeated.

  “I did sign some things for Jackson,” I admitted weakly. “A couple of stray documents here and there.”

  “And you didn’t notice anything…funny going on?” Peter demanded.

  “I….”

  “Yes?” he said impatiently.

  “I was an idiot, okay?” I said. “I wasn’t thinking straight and… I trusted Jackson, much more than I should.”

  “What are you saying, Sam?”

  “I didn’t read any of the papers he got me to sign,” I admitted.

  “Are you fucking serious?”

  “I know, it was stupid-”

  “Stupid doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he said, through gritted teeth.

  “Peter,” I said, cutting him off before he could go on a full-blown tirade. “I know you’re angry, and you’re confused, and you’re disappointed. Trust me, I feel all those things, too. But do you really think I would be so stupid as to try money laundering?”

  “Well, you were stupid enough to sign legal documents without looking through them first,” he pointed out.

  I sighed. “You’ve got me there,” I agreed. “But, Pete, I swear to you. I didn’t do what they’re accusing me of. My name may be on those papers, but I had no idea what was happening.”

  Peter looked at me carefully.

  “I’m a fire fighter,” I said fiercely. “I chose to be a fire fighter because it’s a profession that has honor and respect and…purpose. Why would I choose a job like that only to end up here?”

  Peter’s eyes were thoughtful, and I hated the fact that he might not be sure of my intentions. “You… You do believe me, don’t you?” I asked.

  Peter’s eyes came up to meet mine. He sighed deeply. “I do,” he nodded.

  I breathed a sigh of relief and gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me just yet,” he said. “I tried to see if I could release you on bail.”

  “No dice?”

  “Apparently, you’re not eligible for bail,” he sighed. “We’re going to have to wait this one out.”

  “Awesome,” I said, without feeling. “Just my luck.”

  “I tried to speak to Jackson,” Peter admitted. “He refused to see me.”

  “Of course, he did,” I nodded, feeling the sting of betrayal. “Pathetic coward. I can’t believe he would do this to me. I can’t believe he would do this at all.”

  “People very often have two faces,” Peter reminded me gently.

  “This is Jackson, Pete,” I said emphatically. “We were partners. He had my back, and I had his. That was how it always worked. We fooled around, we made jokes, we may have been assholes from time to time, but we had a code. We would always be there for one another. Remember last year – the woman who got stuck under that truck?”

  “I remember.”

  “Gas was everywhere, the car was about to blow up, and I had minutes to get her out,” I continued. “I got wedged in there with her, and Jackson was with me every step of the way. I told him to get out because if the car blew up, it would take all three of us with it – but he refused.

  “He told me that he couldn’t just walk away. He told me that we were in this together. Not only did he get me out, he got her out, too. And the car blew up a minute after he did.”

  “I remember,” Peter said again.

  “One minute longer and we would have all been burning bodies on the highway,” I said. “And Jackson didn’t have to be there at all. He was there for me.”

  “I know, Sam,” Peter said gently.

  “So, I don’t understand how he could do this…to me,” I said, shaking my head. “To me.”

  “Maybe it’s time to face the fact that maybe you don’t know Jackson as well as you thought you did.”

  I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. “Motherfucker,” I hissed. “He ruined everything.”

  “I’m going to get you out of here, Sam,” Peter said. “Don’t worry.”

  “How is Mom?” I asked, glancing at Peter and worried about what his answer might be.

  “She wanted to come with me,” he said. “But they would only agree to let me in to see you. And that’s only because of my connections in the force. Mom is…upset.”

  “Right,” I nodded.

  “But if you’re worried about what she thinks of you, then don’t be,” he reassured me. “She claimed you were innocent without knowing anything at all about why you were arrested in the first place.”

  I smiled. “Tell her not to worry about me,” I said. “Tell her that I’m a tough boy, and I’ve been through worse.”

  “I’m not sure that will help, but I’ll tell her all the same,” he nodded.

  “Pete?”

  “Yes?”

  “I need you to do me a favor,” I said.

  Peter raised his eyebrows, noticing the seriousness of my tone. “Okay,” he nodded. “What is it?”

  “I need you to contact Mia for me.”

  “Mia?” he repeated. “The girl you went out on a date with?”

  “Yes, she’s a lawyer, remember,” I said.

  “Right,” he nodded.

  “When I couldn’t get through to you, I called her,” I said. “I was hoping…she could help me.”

  Peter raised his eyebrows. “How did that meeting go?”

  “Not well,” I admitted. “She was upset – and I’m not quite certain I convinced her that I was innocent. I wanted her to represent me, but… She told she would refer me to one of her colleagues.”

  “Ah,” he said. “Well, it’s something.”

  “Talk to her, Pete.”

  “Sam,” he said gently. “I can’t force her to tak
e on your case, particularly since there’s a personal connection here.”

  “No, that’s not what I want you to do,” I said.

  “Then what do you want me to do?” he asked in confusion.

  “I just want you to convince her that I’m innocent.”

  Peter looked at me in surprise. “You’re serious?”

  “Yes,” I said firmly. “I am.”

  “Sam… Isn’t it more important that the court finds you innocent?” he asked reasonably. “Why are you wasting your time trying to convince someone who has no bearing on your case that you’re innocent?”

  “Because… I don’t want her thinking badly of me.”

  Peter looked at me closely for a moment. “Seems like you’ve got it bad for this girl.”

  “I… I just… I didn’t do this. I don’t want her thinking that I did,” I said, brushing aside my brother’s comment.

  He sighed and nodded. “Fine,” he said. “For what it’s worth, I’ll talk to her. What’s her number?”

  I repeated Mia’s number, and Peter wrote it down and slipped it into his jacket pocket. “I’ll talk to her first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “Perfect,” I said. “Thanks, Pete.”

  He sighed, and I could tell he hated seeing me behind bars. “Does this bring up bad memories for you?” I asked.

  I knew that we were both thinking of Talen in that moment. It had been some years ago now, but no one could ever forget how Peter had thrown Talen in jail in order to save him from the path of destruction he had been on.

  “A few,” Peter admitted. “But that was different.”

  “How?”

  “I was sure I could save Talen,” he said. “I’m not so sure I can do the same this time. This case is out of my hands.”

  “I trust you,” I said, giving him a confident smile. “And, I trust Mia, too.”

  “You’re okay to go with the lawyer she recommends?” Peter asked. “Or should I look for someone else?”

  “No,” I said quickly. “Whoever Mia chooses for me will be fine. I would have preferred if she took on my case, but I’m not going to force her into it.”

  “She’s good, is she?”

  “She’s brilliant,” I said.

  “And that’s not bias talking?”

  I smiled. “It might be… I’m not sure.”

  Peter smiled. “Hang tight, little brother,” he said. “I’m going to do my best for you.”

  “I know you are,” I said. “You always have.”

  After Peter left, I lay back down on my uncomfortable cot, stared at the ceiling, and thought of Mia’s beautiful green eyes. It struck me as odd that despite everything that was going on, it seemed more important to me that she know I was innocent than anyone else. I was probably being an idiot, just like I had been with Jackson, but I couldn’t deny that that was how I felt.

  I tossed and turned all night, trying to find a comfortable spot on the cot. In the end, it was the comforting image of Mia’s face in my head that sent me off to sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Mia

  I kept hoping that if I looked incredibly busy, then Renni wouldn’t think of asking me about Sam that morning. It was an empty hope, but I went through with it all the same. Every time Renni came to the kitchen, I either sent her to fetch me something or I made an excuse to disappear into one of the other rooms.

  “Mommy!” she said at last. “What are you doing?”

  I stopped for a moment, realizing how silly I was being. I couldn’t avoid Sam’s name altogether. There would be a point at which I would have to face the music, and I was starting to realize that the sooner I did that, the better. I took a breath and gave Renni a smile.

  “Sorry, bunny,” I said. “I’m a little distracted this morning. What can I get you for breakfast?”

  “Can I have brownies?” she asked with a mischievous smile.

  I laughed. “No, you may not,” I said firmly. “Nice try, though. What you can have is pancakes with maple syrup. I have some batter left in the fridge. Or would you prefer to have waffles?”

  “Waffles, please,” Renni decided.

  “Good girl,” I nodded, starting to get the waffles ready.

  “Can I help?” she asked, always ready to give me a hand with anything.

  “You can get out the plates and the milk, sweetheart,” I nodded.

  I usually enjoyed mornings like this, when it was just Renni and me getting breakfast ready together. It was more than just ritual, it was a bonding experience and I’d come to rely heavily on those ever since we had lost Clint. I had just set a crisp golden waffle on Renni’s plate and pushed it towards her when the question I had been dreading came.

  “Mommy, where’s Sam?” Renni asked. “We haven’t seen him in so, so long.”

  I paused for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to explain it to her. Renni looked at me with those green eyes that were the mirror image of mine, and I saw more maturity and awareness in them than was normal for a five year old. I wasn’t sure if her father’s death had aged her or if she was just naturally an old soul. I did know that telling her the truth was the only option here.

  “Sweetheart,” I started. “I don’t think we’ll be seeing Sam for awhile.”

  Renni blinked at me for a moment and then she looked down at her waffle. “Why?” she asked, in a soft voice.

  “Because Sam is going through a few things,” I admitted, without giving too much detail. “And it’s complicated, but he needs to sort those things out first.”

  “And then we can see him?”

  I hesitated. “Maybe,” I said, not wanting to upset her. “But I can’t promise anything. Chances are that…we might not see him again.”

  “Oh,” she said as her eyes went wide. “Did you have a fight with him?”

  I gulped at the question, taken slightly unawares. I had always been proud of the fact that she was a smart and observant child, but sometimes it didn’t exactly work in my favor.

  “I… No,” I said, “It wasn’t a fight… We just discussed a few things and we decided that Sam needed to work on his trouble.”

  “He has trouble?”

  “A little,” I nodded.

  “Then shouldn’t we help him?”

  It was a simple question, but I balked at it. “I don’t think we can,” I said, even though that wasn’t technically the truth.

  “You’re a lawyer, Mommy,” Renni said. “You can do anything.”

  I don’t know if her reference to my profession was a calculated guess on her part or if she was just making a random link. I didn’t ask her to elaborate. I just smiled.

  “I can’t do anything, sweetheart,” I told her.

  “Yes, you can,” she nodded. “You help people who can’t help themselves.”

  I nodded, remembering the day I had explained my job to her. She was not the sort of child to forget those moments. She stored it up, kept it in her memory, and repeated it to herself until she could understand what it meant. For a moment, I thought of Clint and how insanely proud of her he would have been.

  I leaned in and kissed her forehead. “It’s time to get to school, bunny,” I said. “Finish up your waffle and then we’ll head out, okay?”

  Renni held my gaze for a moment before she nodded. “Okay.”

  I busied myself tidying up the kitchen, and the moment Renni was finished with her breakfast, we headed out the door and to her school. She asked me about birds and about Vincent Van Gogh on the way, so I assumed she had gotten her mind off Sam somehow. I stood by the car, waving her off to school, when she turned to me with those knowing green eyes and took my hand.

  “What is it, darling?” I asked, wondering if she had forgotten something.

  “You should help Sam, Mommy,” she said in a soft, kind voice. “You should make things right.”

  It was advice I would have expected from an adult. Not a pint-sized person who wore size three shoes. I couldn’t help but smile down
at her. “I’ll think about it, sweetheart.”

  “Okay,” she nodded. With a parting smile, she headed off into school with her backpack slung over both shoulders.

  I waited till she had disappeared inside the building, and then I got into the car and headed towards city hall. My mind was so foggy with thoughts of the previous few days that I didn’t even realize that I was in my building, on my floor, until Peggy came up to me. She was one of the assistants who worked on our floor. She doubled as a secretary to a number of lawyers there.

  “Morning, Mia,” she greeted, as I stepped off the elevator.

  “Peggy,” I said, coming to a stop. “Good morning.”

  “I tried calling you a couple of times.”

  “Oh?” I said, checking my phone. “Shit, Peggy. I’m sorry; I had it on silent this whole time. Is something wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” she assured me. “It’s just that there’s someone waiting to meet you. He’s been here for almost an hour. He says he won’t leave until he’s spoken to you.”

  I frowned. “Did you get a name?”

  “Peter,” she replied. “Peter Burbank.”

  I placed the name almost immediately. It was the last name that ticked me off. This had to be one of Sam’s brothers.

  I was glad Peggy had warned me – I hated walking in to unexpected situations. I straightened out my navy blue blazer and walked into my office. He was sitting in front of my desk, but his body was turned towards Helen’s desk as he spoke to her.

  “Mia,” Helen said the moment she saw me. “There you are. Peter here has been waiting on you for quite some time. I’ll give you some privacy, shall I?”

  She gave me a smile as she left the room, leaving Peter and me alone. He rose to his feet and approached me with one hand outstretched. He was tall, just like Sam, but he was slightly leaner and lankier. He had the same hazel eyes, differing to Sam’s by one insignificant shade, and his hair was dark and short and scantier than Sam’s. He was dressed nicely, and he cut an impressive figure standing there beside my decidedly unimpressive brown desk.

  I shook his hand. “You are Sam’s brother?”

  “Peter Burbank, ma’am,” he said politely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 

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