“I know,” I said.
But I didn’t know. None of us knew. Probably not even Hallie.
Chapter 38
Hallie
I tried six or seven times to call Jeremy, but each time my call went straight to voicemail. I was so frustrated I wanted to scream. Whatever bullshit was floating through the air was going to bring me down if I didn’t put a stop to it. What was happening? Who could be responsible for these fires? And better yet, who in the hell had attacked me the other night at the pub, and why?
Jake was pulling a 48-hour shift, so I had the apartment to myself, and for the first time since I’d left Jeremy, I felt agonizingly lonely. Abandoned. Tate called a few times, but I didn’t have the courage to answer. I couldn’t talk to him about it. I knew he already had his doubts and I wasn’t about to dig myself in deeper. I had to figure this out before it was too late and I lost everything and everyone important to me.
In hindsight, walking out of the station after putting in my resignation may not have been the smartest move. If anything, I looked guiltier than I already did by doing that. But at the same time, I couldn’t force myself to make an apology; not yet, not when all my brothers at the station were catching word of a possible arsonist, one that they all probably thought was me. It was too easy, it really was. First Tanner’s house, and now Jeremy’s? I couldn’t think straight. Somebody was setting me up. This wasn’t just some merry coincidence. Someone, and I had no idea who, was trying to destroy me.
I took a seat on the couch and tried to clear my mind enough to figure things out. A big part of me wanted to go back to the station and talk to Tate, to apologize for walking out. If there was anything to figure out, we could figure it out together. But the other side of me was pissed. Tate doubted me, somewhere deep down in the depths of his soul, he didn’t believe that I was innocent. I wasn’t an idiot. Someone was trying hard to make sure I went down. At this point, there wasn’t anybody I could trust, not even Tate.
I was still awake around midnight, tapping my foot anxiously as I made notes on a pad in front of me. I had so little information, but all I could do was try to sort these things out until something made sense. Being jumped at the pub, Tanner’s house, and Jeremy’s apartment; what did they all have in common? Me. That’s all they had in common, and that was almost enough.
“Fuck.” I leaned back into the couch, exhaustion tugging at my eyelids. I needed sleep, but I also needed to prove my innocence before some bad shit went down and I was unlawfully accused of something I didn’t do.
I’d almost drifted off an hour later when the sound of the key in the lock woke me up. Jake came in and shut the door behind him, dropping his bag on the floor so he could kick off his boots.
“Hey.” I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “I thought you had a longer shift.”
“I did, but Captain Becker let me come home so I could check on you. He’s been worried.”
“Oh really.” I rubbed both hands over my face, doubting his words but unable to muster up the energy to argue it anyway. Whether or not Tate and the rest of my crew were worried about me didn’t matter much if I couldn’t figure this shit out and prove my innocence.
“Yeah, actually, all of us have been.”
“Even Tanner Rey?”
“Well...” Jake went to the fridge for a beer, trailing off. “I mean, he’s confused I guess. Everyone is wondering what in the hell is going on.” He plopped down next to me on the couch and surveyed the old bruises on my face, as if just seeing them for the first time. “You never did tell me about that.”
“It’s nothing.” I quickly slammed the notepad shut that was sitting open on the table.
“Hal, it’s things like that that make people wonder,” Jake said. When I raised my eyebrows at him, he quickly added, “Not that any of us think you’re actually guilty.”
“Thanks for trying.” I sighed and rested my head in my hands. “Jeremy isn’t talking to me and I walked out of work. I think more people believe I’m guilty than you’d believe.”
“We’ll figure this out,” Jake said. “I promise. Your crew isn’t going to let you go down for this.”
“Thanks.” I rested my head on Jake’s shoulder, trying to ward off an oncoming tension headache. “Did the police question anyone at the station yet?”
“Meh, a few of them were in and out today, but no one asked or told me anything. Whatever they had to ask or say, it stayed between them and Cap Becker.”
I sat up and arched my back, popping the kinks out of my neck. “I’m off to bed,” I said. “Maybe we’ll know more in the morning.”
I went to the kitchen for a glass of water and some aspirin, and I’d just tossed some down when there was a loud knock on the door. I glanced at Jake, who shrugged. When I went to answer the door, I couldn’t help but hope it was Tate, or even Jeremy, bearing good news.
“Are you Hallie Harper?” The cop standing at the door was middle-aged, with a potbelly and receding hairline. His partner, a younger woman standing directly behind him, said nothing.
“Uh, yeah, that’s me. Is there a problem?”
“Hallie Harper, you’re under arrest for suspicion of arson in the third degree. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say or do can—”
The words faded in and out. My ears rang, head swimming with confusion. Jake stood from the couch, eyes wide with horror as he watched the scene unravel in front of him. The officer’s grip on my arm was unnecessarily tight, but I couldn’t feel the pain through the numb tingling in my body.
“Hallie?” Jake called. “Hallie, what do I do?”
“Call Tate,” I yelled over my shoulder. “Call him now, Jake.”
The door slammed shut behind me, and the second officer pushed me forward, her stony silence weighing heavily on my chest.
Chapter 39
Tate
It was around two in the morning when my cell phone rang, vibrating loudly against the desk in the silence of the room. I started, reaching for it, hoping it was Hallie. She hadn’t spoken to me since walking out, but I couldn’t blame her. All I wanted in that moment was to hear her voice.
“Captain?” said a breathless voice. My stomach dropped. It wasn’t Hallie.
“Who is this?”
“It’s Finn, sir. Jake Finn.”
“Is everything okay, Jake?”
“Uh, no. Not really.”
I waited for him to go on as concern and suspicion creeped up my spine.
“It’s Hallie,” Jake said finally. “She’s been arrested.”
I sat straight up, a jolt of panic pulsating through me. “What are you talking about, Jake?”
“The police came just now and took her away. Arson in the third degree. She told me to call you; I don’t know what to do right now.”
Horror and confusion pulsated through me as I tossed the blanket off my legs, the cell-phone still pressed painfully against one ear.
“Did they say anything else?” I asked.
“No, sir. They just took her away.”
“Okay, thanks for calling, Jake. I’ll call the station and find out where they took her, and on what grounds.”
“Thanks, Cap.” There was a pause, and then, “You don’t think she really did any of this, do you?”
“No,” I said, but even as the word slipped from my mouth, something squeezed at my chest, a feeling that was both unprovoked and unwelcome. Hesitation, wariness, dread. I knew she was innocent, of course, and this was some big, crazy mix-up; I could only wonder what in the hell was happening, and why.
I hung up the phone and swung my legs over the cot, rubbing the exhaustion from my face. I was glad for the first time that I slept in my office, away from the guys. It was only in case of an emergency, or if someone came wandering into the station needing help. I had to be present, alert, aware. And now I was glad, if anything, that my crew wasn’t hovering around, trying to figure out what was going on before I even knew myself. But before I coul
d dial the number to the police station to find out where Hallie was, Kyle yanked my office door open and walked in, his own cell phone gripped in one hand.
“Hallie has been—”
“Arrested.”
“How did you hear?”
“Jake called me. You?”
“Her one phone call.”
“I’d better get over there,” I said, grabbing for my boots while trying to ignore the twinge of annoyance that her only phone call had been to Kyle and not to me. Not that I could blame her. I hadn’t tried very hard to convince her that I was on her side. “Call the department’s attorney, Randall Johnson, and have him meet me at the station. And stay here in case a call comes in. I’ll go try to figure out what in the hell is happening.”
Chapter 40
Hallie
If there was anything moderately okay about going to jail, it’s that I had my own cell and didn’t have to deal with a bitter, convicted roommate.
The booking process didn’t take long, whether that was a good or bad thing I didn’t know. After taking my things and snapping a mug shot, I’d been escorted to a holding cell. No one spoke or bothered to tell me what in the hell was going on. I could only hope Tate or Kyle were in the process of figuring something out. I needed a lawyer, someone who could tell me what was going to happen from here.
I was scared shitless, knees drawn up to my chin, arms wrapped around them to make myself as small as I could. Around me, cell doors slammed, and inmates banged things around, speaking loudly, their voices carrying to every inch of the building. The front door opened and closed, the bell above it ringing incessantly every time someone came or went. After an hour of this, I had to squeeze my hands over my ears to drown out the sounds. Then, as the anxiety creeped under my skin and panic started to take hold, I began to rock.
I must have fallen into a restless sleep, because around three a.m. I woke to the sound of the cell door opening. My eyes fluttered open and I watched Tate Becker step inside the cell, accompanied by a middle-aged man with a briefcase that I didn’t recognize.
“Hallie,” Tate said, holding his arms out to me. “I’m so sorry.”
For some reason, a reason I couldn’t even fathom, I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I was innocent, and I damn well knew it, but for Tate to find me by myself, in the middle of a jail cell, with my knees pulled up to my chin left me feeling sick and vulnerable. I feared if I looked at him, I would cry. Not just cry, but lose my shit. It didn’t seem to matter what I thought, however, because Tate joined me on the bed, sitting down next to me. His movements were stiff and awkward. I noticed right away that he wasn’t relaxed. He didn’t reach out to hold me. His hands went to his lap where his fingers tightly intertwined. He looked up and nodded at the other man.
“This is your attorney, Randall Johnson. He represents the department. He’s here to help.”
“Good,” I said, voice shaking. “I could really use it.”
“Miss Harper, I’m sorry we had to meet under such strenuous circumstances, but rest assured, we’re going to figure this out.”
“Figure what out?” I asked, my pitch rising to an almost immeasurable tone of panic and fear. “I’m not guilty. I didn’t do anything. I shouldn’t even be here.”
“Indeed,” Johnson said. “That’s why I’m here. Now please, tell me exactly what happened.”
I recounted the story the best I could, telling Johnson that the police had come because there had been a judge-issued warrant out for my arrest, based on evidence they found suspicious regarding the arson fires.
“How long am I going to be here?” I asked, voice trembling.
“Legally, they can only hold you 24 hours before they must charge you with a crime,” Johnson said. “Then they’ll hold an arraignment before setting a court date, within 72 hours at the very most.”
“And if I get to the arraignment, then what?”
“You plead not guilty, of course.”
“And then what?”
“And then they’ll set your trial date and you’ll appear in front of the judge to plead your case.”
“Jesus.” I bowed my head and rubbed my hands over my face, still shaking, stomach twisted with nausea. “Can you get me out of here before then?”
“Only if we can find sufficient evidence that you’re innocent,” Johnson said. “Otherwise, it will go to trial.”
I pressed my fist hard against my lips and closed my eyes, unwilling to fall apart in front of Tate and Randall Johnson so easily. I had to be strong. I had to get through this if it was the last thing I did, because I sure as hell didn’t bust my ass to get onto this department only to spend the next however many years in jail for something I didn’t do.
I refused to back down, or cower, because that’s not who I was.
“I’m being framed,” I said. “Someone is trying to get rid of me, Mr. Johnson, and that’s why I’m here.”
“I believe you,” the attorney said gently. “But the police department has a witness, someone who claims they saw you near the scene of the crime leading up to the fires. Both of them.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” My stomach lurched with nausea, and I had to take a deep breath to keep from vomiting all over the stone-cold floor. “Who is this witness? Is it Jeremy? Or Tanner?”
“No, neither of them.” He stood up then and offered his hand. I stood to shake it. “The witness’ name is Brenda Sharpe. That’s all I know.”
“Brenda Sharpe?” I repeated. “That sounds so familiar. Do we know her?”
“I don’t think so. She just described what she saw, and it sounded like you.” He sighed heavily. “I’ll be back tomorrow, hopefully with more information. Let me see what I can find out before I tell you anything more, okay?”
After Randall Johnson left, Tate stayed with me a while longer, but it was as though an entire invisible person had settled between the two of us.
“You think I’m guilty.” It wasn’t a question. I could read it on his face, see it in rigidness of his posture, his inability to reach out and touch me.
“No one said that.”
I looked away from him before he could meet my gaze. My insides did summersaults, and a painful lump in my throat grew, suffocating me, my confidence, and everything I ever thought I was or had been.
“I didn’t do it.”
The words that came from my mouth were weak, meager. I spoke as though I’d never stood up for myself in my entire life, a small, pitiful woman on the verge of a breakdown. The fire I’d felt earlier was gone. My determination to prove my innocence shriveled and thrown away. I wanted to shake Tate, I wanted to shake him and plead to him until he took me in his arms and settled me down. I wanted him to believe me.
I didn’t do any of those things. I stayed where I was, frozen in a time that seemed to drag on forever, ticking mindlessly in the back of my head. Time was of no essence in here; not if they decided I was guilty.
“The evidence is adding up,” Tate said after what seemed like an endless, dreadful silence. “Whoever this witness is claims they saw you there, Hallie. And after your fight with Jeremy, it went downhill from there.”
“Someone is framing me.” I hoped I sounded more confident than I felt. “Whoever jumped me in the parking lot of the pub told me I wasn’t wanted at the station, and that I should quit.”
Tate looked at me then, his eyes searching my face, probably to try and determine if I was telling the truth.
“Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“I was embarrassed.” I looked away from him and back to the wall. “I thought that’s as far it would go, Tate, I never imaged someone would take it any further just to get me to quit.”
“Hallie.” Tate hesitated. “If you had told us the truth from the beginning, you might have enough evidence on your side to fight this. But you didn’t. You kept it from me, the police, and everyone else.”
“It doesn’t matter!” I cried. “It still happened, and I’m still
innocent.”
“I know.”
“Do you really?”
“Of course, Hal, but—”
“Get out.” I hadn’t realized it had been me who’d said it until Tate looked over at me, trying to meet my gaze. I refused him, turning my head away so he wouldn’t see the single tear that ran down my face.
“Don’t do that,” he insisted. “We’ll figure this out.” When he reached for me this time, more out of pity than anything, I assumed, I shrugged his hand away.
“Get the hell out,” I said again. When he didn’t, I jumped to my feet, seething, pointing at the cell door. “Get the fuck out of my face and don’t come back.”
Chapter 41
Tate
A six pack of beer that night didn’t cut it. Burrowing in the locked cupboards of my empty house, I came up with a dusty half-full bottle of malt whiskey. Without considering a glass, I popped the cap off and took a long swallow, closing my eyes as I chugged, wishing that the burn in my lungs and the sting in my eyes would distract me from the situation at hand. I felt so lost, so confused, nothing made sense. Hallie was innocent; she had to be. There was no other way I could accept it. And yet here I was, getting drunk at home and alone while Hallie was in a holding cell, and I had no idea what to do from here.
I took a seat on the couch and flipped on the TV, mainly for some background noise. A soft buzz was making its way to my head, and I closed my eyes, my hands shaking just slightly. Somewhere in the background, a breaking news report popped up on the screen. I looked up just in time to see the anchor lady start speaking on camera.
“In a surprising turn of events, a Lakewood firefighter was arrested late last night after a suspicious arson investigation. The state’s employee, Hallie Harper, who also happens to be the only female in the department, is being held in containment until a court date is set. A witness claims they saw Miss Harper at the scene of both crimes before the fires were started. We’ll hear from Mayor Jensen regarding the arrest later in the show.”
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