by M. S. Parker
And I didn't have to buy for the Lockwoods. Or, more accurately, attempt to buy for them. Every year that I'd been with Allen, I'd tried to buy Christmas presents for Allen's parents, both of his siblings, their spouses, and their kids. And every year, they smiled and pretended to love whatever it was I'd given them. Then I'd hear them making comments to each other as if I couldn't hear them. Reasons why what I'd bought hadn't been good enough, or had been the wrong thing altogether. All of the excuses they'd use to justify exchanging, or simply returning, whatever it was I'd gotten them.
For the first time since before I'd met Allen, there was a good possibility that all of my gifts would actually be kept.
It was surprising how relieved I was by that.
When I got up Monday morning, Jasper was already gone, but he'd left me a note on the refrigerator.
Miss you. Love you. - J
Four words, one letter. And my insides were all mush.
I traced his initial with my finger and smiled. Maybe tonight we could talk about some things we could do for Christmas that wouldn't involve getting into memories. Some new things that we could make our own.
Someone knocked on the door. I frowned. I'd told Jacques to take off today and tomorrow too. He'd done so much for me.
When I opened the door, however, it wasn't Jacques on the other side. It was Detectives Reed and Rheingard.
“Can I help you?” I managed to give them a polite smile.
“Mrs. Lockwood.” Detective Reed held out a piece of paper. “We have a search warrant for your house.”
I took the paper, staring at it as a string of cops stepped past me and into the house. A search warrant? Why were they searching my house? What were they looking for?
“Mrs. Lockwood.” Detective Rheingard stepped closer and looked down at me. “You'll want to set that down.”
“Why?” My head was reeling.
The detectives exchanged a look and I set down the warrant. I didn't want to think it, but I knew where this was going.
Again.
“Shae Lockwood, you're under arrest...”
I let the words wash over me as I heard them for the second time. It felt even more surreal than before. Here I was, in my comfy yoga pants and sweatshirt, getting my hands cuffed behind my back and I almost couldn't believe it was happening. There were men in my house, going through my things, trying to find something to prove that I'd killed Allen. And I was being arrested again.
I decided that this time, I would play things differently. I'd tried doing what I thought was the right thing before. I'd talked to them without a lawyer, thinking that would prove that I was innocent. I'd answered their questions over and over. I hadn't lied about anything. I'd even taken them a personal letter because I'd thought it would help.
Fuck that.
This time, I was exercising my right to remain silent. I didn't say a word during the drive back to the station or even when they walked me inside. They went through the same things they'd done before when they'd booked me, Reed running his mouth the entire time. Since I hadn't asked for a lawyer, I knew he was trying to get me to say something incriminating that could be admitted into evidence. Even though I didn't really have anything that could incriminate me because I was innocent, I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he'd managed to get under my skin enough to make me talk about anything.
By the time I was finally put into an interrogation room, it was all I could do to keep my temper. Even Rheingard seemed annoyed with how far Reed had taken things. His insinuations about Jasper and my relationship had gone from not-so-subtle innuendos to flat-out filth. The one reaction I hadn't been able to control was my face and the fact that it was burning was amusing Reed to no end.
The smirk fell off his face the minute I sat down, looked straight at him and said the magic words.
“I want to call my lawyer.”
Detective Rheingard simply looked resigned, as if he'd expected me to lawyer up. Detective Reed looked like I'd just stolen his birthday present. He all but stomped out of the room, leaving me alone with Rheingard. I leaned back in my chair and waited.
Mr. Henley arrived less than a half hour after I called him. He rather politely asked the detective to leave us alone, and then began to explain what he'd found out.
“This arrest warrant is going to stick,” Henley said with a frown. “They don't have any real evidence, but this judge has decided that he's going to let things play out.”
“Do you think that the Lockwoods are pushing it?” I asked.
Henley sighed. “I do, but it'd be practically impossible to prove it.”
“So what happens next?” I asked. I hadn't expected the Lockwoods to be held accountable for any of that.
“They legally have to get you in front of a judge for arraignment within twenty-four hours.”
“I could be here all night.” I closed my eyes. I had no doubt that would be the case. They'd want to keep me as long as they could, hope that it would make me start talking. Or maybe they just wanted to piss me off. I knew which one of them would eventually happen.
“Yes,” Henley answered honestly. “I think they're going to schedule you for arraignment tomorrow morning.”
I nodded. “Can you let Jasper know?”
My chest tightened at the thought of him. I didn't want to think about spending the night here, being without him. I already knew I didn't sleep well away from him. This was going to be so much worse.
“I'll call him first thing,” Henley promised.
I nodded again. “Arraignment is when they decide if I get bail, right?”
“It is.” Henley shifted in his chair. “I don't see a judge remanding you, not with evidence this weak. But if the Lockwoods are putting some political pressure on, I doubt you'll be let out ROR.”
“That means without having to pay bail, right?” I asked.
Henley nodded. “Now, because the trust is still being contested, you won't be able to use it to post bail, but you do have the vineyard and your own bank account, so I'll make sure everything is ready to get you out as soon as the judge gives us a number.”
“Then what?”
“Then you go home and I do my job. I've already got a couple criminal attorneys lined up to help me with some things.”
I thanked Henley and we went through a couple other things before he gave the detectives the go ahead to come back in. After that, things went exactly how he predicted. The cops asked questions and I gave the same answers I'd given a million times before. When they started to repeat their questions again, Henley intervened and told them that I was done.
I spent the rest of the day and the night in what Detective Rheingard called a holding cell. I didn't know what made it different from any other cell, but I really didn't care. Fortunately, the only other people in the cell were a drunk woman who snored, and a thirty-something woman who was wearing a dress that made me believe she'd been arrested for prostitution.
I didn't sleep well that night, but at least Henley brought me clean clothes to change into for the arraignment, so I was able to make myself presentable before I was escorted into the courtroom. It helped me keep my head up and my shoulders squared as I was put behind the defendants' table.
“What are you asking for?” The judge sounded almost bored as she spoke to the prosecutor.
“Mrs. Lockwood is charged with the premeditated murder of her husband in order to seize his assets and continue her affair with her husband's best friend.”
“Miss Donaldson is presenting information that has no evidence to support it,” Henley interjected.
“Get to the point, Miss Donaldson,” the judge said.
“The defendant has no local ties and the means to flee the country. We're asking for remand.”
“My client has a job and a home here, and is more than willing to surrender her passport.”
“A job that she's been suspended from,” Miss Donaldson interrupted.
“That's
enough.” The judge held up a hand. “Two million, cash or bond and the defendant will surrender her passport.” The gavel banged. “Next.”
Jasper was waiting for me when I walked out, the bags under his eyes telling me he'd slept as well as I had. He wrapped me in his arms, and I sighed as I pressed my face against his chest. He kissed the top of my head.
“I've got you.” His voice was low. “It's going to be okay.”
I squeezed him tight. “Take me home.”
He pulled me back far enough to kiss my forehead. “Of course.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and turned us towards the doors. “Let's go.”
Chapter 16
“You did what?” I stared at Jasper as he drove us home. I had to have heard him wrong.
“I used the clinic as collateral for your bail,” he repeated. “I didn't want you to find out from Henley.” He reached over and took my hand.
“Why didn't you use the vineyard or put up whatever the percentage was from my bank account?”
Jasper's mouth tightened. “The Lockwoods managed to do some legal shit I don't understand to make it so you couldn't put the vineyard up for collateral, and to freeze your savings account. You still have enough in checking to be fine for a while, and I'm sure Henley will be able to get the rest reversed in a couple days, but there wasn't enough for bail right away.” He glanced at me, his expression dark. “And I wasn't about to let you stay in there a minute more than you had to.”
“You didn't have to put up the clinic though,” I protested.
“Are you planning on running?” he asked, one side of his mouth tilting up in a partial smile.
“No,” I said, but couldn’t help it. My lips curved into a tiny smile.
“Then I don't have to worry about it, do I?” He raised our hands and pressed his lips against my knuckles. “Do you really think I would've let you sit in jail for days while Henley sorted this all out?”
“I don't know,” I said, half-teasing. “Maybe you were getting tired of me.”
“Never.” His fingers tightened around mine. As he slowed to a stop at a red light, he looked over at me, his gaze intense. “I'll never be tired of you.”
I squeezed his hand, trying to let him see on my face all of what I was feeling, everything I felt for him.
“We're going to get to the bottom of this,” he said as he drove on. “I promise. You and me. We're in this together.”
We didn't say anything for the rest of the ride and after how loud the drunk in the cell had been snoring all night, I was glad for the silence. The quiet lasted until we reached the door to the house.
“I cleaned up as best I could, but...” Jasper let his voice trail off as he opened the door and took me inside.
The living room was trashed. Couch cushions flipped, drawers opened, dvds scattered on the floor.
“The whole place was like this when I got home,” Jasper said. I could hear the anger in his voice. “The cops tore up everything.”
“It's okay,” I said softly. It wasn't okay. It was far from fucking okay, but I couldn't let Jasper feel like this was his fault in any way.
“It's not.”
I looked up at him, surprised at the intensity in his voice.
“It's not okay that they were able to do this.” He turned until he was standing in front of me. He put his hand on my cheek and I leaned into his touch. “I hate that they can treat you like this and there's nothing I can do.”
“You're doing enough,” I said.
He sighed. “I started putting things together again based on the rooms I thought you'd need the most when you came home.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning our room is put back together, and so is our bathroom. I got most of the kitchen taken care of too.” He gave me a rueful smile. “I didn't sleep much last night.”
“Me either,” I said.
“So let's get something to eat and spend the rest of the day in the bedroom. We have a lot to talk about.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“That too.” He grinned. “But first, food.”
I didn't even want to see the rest of the house, but there was one thing I need to check. While Jasper went into the kitchen to get us something to eat, I went to the office. It was still a mess and I knew it would take days to even get close to being organized again. I wasn't sure what the cops had been looking for, but they'd gone through everything.
And my computer was gone. So was Allen's laptop.
I sighed. Neither one was really a surprise, but I'd been hoping that at least my computer would've been left. I'd have to go down and check the vineyard office at some point. I hadn't had enough time to read the search warrant to see if it had included anything there. I hoped not since that was where I'd moved my copies of Allen's letter and the email after my previous encounter with the police. I didn't think the cops here were corrupt, but I'd definitely wanted to have copies of my own for safe-keeping. Besides, the letter had sentimental value.
“Why don't you get cleaned up?” he called from the kitchen. “I'll bring the food to the bedroom.”
I wave of gratitude swept over me. More than I wanted to eat, I wanted to be clean. I stepped under the hot spray and closed my eyes, letting it work into my stiff muscles as I began to scrub away the grime. By the time I stepped out of the shower, my skin was practically glowing, nearly raw. But at least I felt clean.
I pulled on my robe, sighing at the feel of the soft cotton against my skin. When I went into the bedroom, Jasper had a plate waiting for me. I climbed onto the bed and he handed it to me before taking the seat next to me. We ate without speaking, letting the sound from an old movie fill the silence. It was one I liked, an old black-and-white about a rabbit. I'd seen it more than a dozen times, which made it a good choice since I didn't exactly have to concentrate on it to be able to follow what was happening.
As the credits began to roll, Jasper spoke, “I didn't just spend yesterday cleaning up.”
I moved closer to him and he put his arm around me, pulling me close to his chest. I put my hand on his stomach, my fingers tracing lazy patterns as his muscles twitched beneath his t-shirt. “What else did you do?” I asked.
“I went down to the vineyard office to see if they'd searched there. Jacques was still there. He said he'd come in to check the wine just a few minutes after the cops arrived and figured he'd better stick around. It was a good thing he did because they did try to get into the office, but he read the search warrant and it was only for the main house.”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I'd been holding.
“He also found a copy of Allen's letter and a print-out of what looked like an email between Allen and me.”
“I made copies and took them to the office, just in case,” I admitted. “I just wish I would've copied that medical file too so you could see it.”
“That would make things easier,” Jasper agreed. “But I did read the email and I don't know who wrote it, but it wasn't me.”
“I believe you.” I looked up at him so he could see my face. “And I should have believed you before.”
He kissed my forehead. “Forgiven and forgotten.”
“Do you know who could've written it?” I asked, returning my attention to the firm muscles under my hand. I was tempted to pull up his shirt so I could feel his skin, but I didn't want to distract him.
Yet.
“I'm not sure,” he said. “I mean, it was sent from my email account, so I suppose someone could've hacked it. I just don't know who.”
“Do you think the Lockwoods could've hired someone to do it?”
“I thought about it,” he said. He wasn't exactly frowning, but he had that little crease between his eyes that he got when he was thinking hard about something. “But there's something about it that I can't put my finger on, like I should recognize it even though I didn't write it.”
I reached up and took his hand in mine. “We could tell the cops that you didn't write the email
and they should be able to do some techie thing and figure out where it actually came from, right?”
“I suppose,” he said. “But they might want my laptop for that.”
I looked up and was surprised to see a flush creeping up his neck. I pushed myself up so that I was sitting. “Would that be a problem?”
His thumb was making circles on the back of my hand, and he was watching it intently. “Since I didn't send it, there wouldn't be anything on the hard drive, and they could check my email account from anywhere. They wouldn't need the laptop.”
“But you don't want them to have it?” I pulled my hand away from his and gripped his chin, bringing his face up so I could see his eyes. “What, do you have porn on your computer?” I teased, wanting him to see that I wasn't accusing him of anything.
His flush deepened.
“Seriously?” I laughed. “I'm sure they'll find some on Allen's too.”
“No.” He shook his head. “That's not it.”
Now I was intrigued. “What then? Why wouldn't you want the cops digging in your laptop?”
“I write things.” His eyes slid away from mine. “It's not a journal or anything – or maybe it is – I don't know. When I can't think, I write stuff down to clear my head.”
“Okay?” I'd never seen Jasper this uncomfortable before. “I still don't understand.”
His gaze came back to mine, carefully guarded. “You've always been the reason I can't think clearly.”
My hand dropped from his chin. “Oh.”
He tucked my hair behind my ear. “From the moment I met you, you've been in my head. And since I could never do anything about it, I wrote. Wrote about you. How I felt.”
My stomach tightened. He'd recently admitted how he'd been in love with me even when Allen and I had been together, but hearing it this way...it was different.
“There are files in there all the way back to the beginning,” he said. “Places where I write how jealous I was of Allen and how hard it was pretending that all I felt for you was friendship. How torn I was because I loved Allen, and knew what a great guy he was, how much he loved you, but that I wanted you for myself.”