Rekindled Dreams

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Rekindled Dreams Page 12

by Carroll-Bradd, Linda


  Diplomacy is the rule here. Keep your cool, and you and Vena will be out of here in no time. Finn pulled open the office door and strode into the police station. A quick look around the small, crowded office told him Vena wasn’t there. That damn Dwayne must have put her in a holding cell. His blood pressure rose.

  At that moment, a burly deputy strolled into the office, a mug of steaming coffee in hand.

  Finn recognized the trademark Mullen family reddish hair and freckles. All thoughts of diplomacy vanished. He glanced at the badge to confirm the deputy’s name and strained to keep his voice even. “Where is she, Deputy Mullen?”

  The officer set the mug on the counter. “Where’s who, Mr. Quaid?”

  As if he’d arrested more than one female today. “Don’t play dumb, Mullen.” His tone grew harsher. “You know I’m here for Vena Fenton.”

  “That’s Deputy Mullen. Are you who she used her phone call on?” Dwayne stopped across from Finn and leaned a hip against the counter, sipping from his mug. “Guess she didn’t take my advice to call a lawyer.”

  “I doubt she needs a lawyer. She called me because we’re friends.” Forcing his shoulders an inch lower, he plastered on his politician’s smile. “Where is she? I’d like to see her.”

  Dwayne cut a look over his shoulder toward the back of the room. “Cadet Green isn’t at her desk, so she’s not done processing the required paperwork.” He waved a hand toward several plastic chairs in a waiting area. “Have a seat. We’ll call you.”

  The sound of Vena’s scared voice echoed in his head. An experience like this had to be upsetting to anyone. Sure, Vena had a new cocky attitude, but her voice on the phone reminded him of the shy girl with the big, vulnerable eyes.

  Finn leaned over the counter as far as he could, bringing his face close to the deputy’s. “Like hell I will, Mullen. I can’t believe you haven’t fingerprinted her yet. What’s the holdup?”

  Dwayne cleared his throat and then coughed. “She’s not cooperating.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She won’t open her fists for the fingerprints. I sent Cadet Green back, figuring another female might get better results. She wouldn’t even stand up so we could take her photo.” He growled the words. “Just kept going limp and slipping down to the floor.”

  “A mug shot, you mean?” Finn ground out the words.

  “Yeah, following protocol.”

  “What is this all about?”

  Dwayne set his mug back on the counter and straightened, crossing both arms over his chest. “She’s being charged with disturbing the peace, resisting arrest, and assaulting a police officer.”

  To avoid launching himself across the counter, Finn breathed in and counted to ten. “Resisting arrest?” He scoffed. “Assault. Did she have a weapon?”

  The deputy focused over Finn’s shoulder. “Not exactly.”

  “How does one not exactly have a weapon?” He forced the words through clenched teeth. “Did she have a gun?”

  “No.”

  “A knife?” His jaw ached from clenching so long. What kind of arrest was this?

  The deputy’s face reddened. “No.”

  “Deputy.” Finn couldn’t keep a smirk off his face. “Did she hit you with her purse?”

  “I told her to halt, and she shoved me.”

  “That’s it? A five-foot something, one hundred and five pound female shoved you, Dwayne Mullen, former county football all-star.” Finn leaned forward, his scornful stare taking in the man’s length and breadth to get the full picture. “Sure, sounds like assault to me. What are you, six foot one, two hundred, maybe two hundred ten pounds?”

  Dwayne stared into his coffee before answering. “About that.”

  “Did she knock you down?”

  His shoes scraped on the floor. “No.”

  “Did she put a mark on you?”

  “No.”

  Irritation tightening his muscles, Finn crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. Let the other man break the silence.

  Dwayne slammed down his mug. “The law’s the law, Mr. Quaid. If a suspect lays one hand on an officer of the court, the act can be deemed assault. And the prisoner did resist arrest.”

  An attempt to save face over an exaggerated reaction to someone questioning his authority. His muscles tensed, but he forced his words to remain calm. “May I see her, please?”

  Dwayne nodded and swept a hand toward the back of the office. “Ah, I see Cadet Green returned to her desk. She must be done with the prisoner. Go on through the door.”

  He glared and leaned over the counter. “Stop saying prisoner. Her name is Vena.”

  “Right. I’d escort you, but I’ve had my fill of hearing her yell ‘police brutality’ every time she sees me.”

  Finn swung aside the waist-high wooden door at the end of the counter. As he passed, he nodded at a young woman in cadet’s uniform.

  The dark-haired woman glanced away, suddenly busy writing.

  He stepped into the corridor, not knowing what to expect, and scanned the three cells. Only the far one was occupied. Once he spotted Vena, he decided Dwayne might have deserved more sympathy.

  With vigorous steps, she paced from one end of her cell to the other, muttering and waving her hands in the air. He couldn’t remember ever seeing Vena this worked up. “Elfie?”

  “Finnian.” She stopped in her circuit, a whisper of a smile replacing the scowl on her face. “Thank God. Did you get me out?”

  He approached her and grabbed the steel bars, wishing he could touch her to assure himself she was all right. “Not yet, but I’m working on it. How are you? Tootie told me a story that someone saw Mullen haul you out of the patrol car. Did he hurt you?”

  “Only my pride. I have the right to use non-violent resistance. He ordered me to stand up and do as he said.” Her head shook, and her curls bounced around her outraged face. “Hello? I didn’t want to go. Why would I want to make my arrest easy for him?”

  She moved close and covered his hands with hers. “Finn, you have to get me out. Can’t you pay a bond or something? I’m good for the money. Being cooped up is driving me nuts. I must be claustrophobic or something.” She pushed away and resumed her circuit, her long dress twisting around her legs as she moved.

  His gaze followed her every movement. “Tell me what happened. You resisted being arrested, but over what?”

  “You won’t believe this.” She waved her hands in the air and then faced him, hands on hips. “I’m walking along, minding my own business, and all of a sudden, a police car blocks my path. Then this stupid deputy is grilling me, asking me to prove who I am. Really? Besides, he was only Dwayne, you know.” She paused to take a breath.

  “I just talked to him.”

  “I used to babysit the jerk, if you believe that. But the point is, I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I was just walking through town.” As she spoke the last few words, her fist slapped her open palm. “I promised you I would keep a low profile and not draw any attention to myself, especially after this morning.”

  She ducked her head and her voice quieted. “And I didn’t want you involved. So I refused to give him the address of where I’m staying. I promised to be a good pedestrian and walked on. Then he stepped in front of me, and I just brushed past him.”

  At her mention of not involving him, guilt shot through him. Maybe his earlier warning had been too stern. At the time, he’d meant behavior that fed into the Gray Ladies’ rumor about her health. He had no idea keeping his name out of a minor incident would escalate into an arrest. “He says you shoved him.”

  “Oh, really?” Her eyes blazed. “Is that why he pulled his gun?”

  “A gun? He didn’t mention that.” Adrenaline shot through him as he pivoted and started back toward the front office.

  “Please, Finnian.” Vena’s voice trembled and rose in pitch. “You might make it worse. Don’t leave me.”

  His gaze flicked between the doorway and her sad face, his emotio
ns torn between getting an answer from the deputy and comforting her. Seeing the haunted expression in her eyes, he softened. Locked behind those steel bars, she appeared so small and vulnerable. His chest ached, and he ran a hand over his jaw, a jumble of thoughts flashing through his mind. “Maybe I can call someone. My old buddy, Horace Miller, is still on the town council.”

  “Really?” Hope loosened her frown. “I remember Horace. He was class president. Do you think he could help?”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Quaid, Ms. Fenton.” A tentative female voice sounded from the doorway.

  Finn recognized the female cadet from the outer office.

  “Deputy Mullen just got off the phone with Sheriff Andrews. The sheriff’s getting all sorts of calls at his house about the pris—uh, Ms. Fenton. They are disturbing his evening off.” The woman stepped into the room, keys rattling in her hand. “He’s releasing you, ma’am.”

  Vena rushed to the door and waited. “I’m ready.”

  “You can go.” Cadet Green unlocked the door and pulled it open. “As long as Mr. Quaid vouches for your character and signs a statement promising to bring you to the hearing.”

  “What hearing?” Vena grabbed the bars and pulled back the door until it slammed with a clank. “You mean this farce isn’t over?”

  Finn covered her hands with his, noting how cold hers felt. “Vena, you were arrested. There has to be a court appearance of some kind. You’ll go before a judge and make a statement, apologize, if need be, and that’ll be it.”

  “But that’s not right.” She jutted out her chin. “I won’t agree to those terms. I’m staying right here.”

  “What?” Finn tensed. “Let me take you back to The Shamrocks where you can rest.”

  “Not if I have to apologize.” She glared and whispered, “Damn it, Finn, I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m standing up for my rights.”

  Vena had to pick this week to defend the constitution? Three days ago, his life had seemed full enough. He’d spent his time changing plumbing fixtures and sanding off years of accumulated paint with only one decision to make about his future. In the intervening hours, he’d added a sham engagement, solved the riddle of Vena’s mental health, justified her presence under his roof to what felt like half the town, dressed up in a costume and acted out what could only be described as a seduction scene, and learned enough about the woman to be thoroughly interested.

  Now, that very same woman wanted to make a political stand. Every man had his limit, and she’d pushed him to his. Rigid with frustration, he stepped closer and pinned her with a dark stare. “Vena, the other night…” Had only seventy-two hours elapsed since he let her back into The Shamrocks?

  He lowered his voice to a whisper, “Your exact words were, ‘you’ll never know I’m here.’ Just now you said this whole thing started because you didn’t want to get me involved.” His voice rose, and he gestured at the room around them. “Well, take a good look around—I’m the one you called, I’m the one fighting to get you out of that cell. I am involved.” He fought against grabbing the metal bars separating them. “And if you haven’t yet realized it, I’m at the end of my patience. Do me a favor, and stop this citizen’s-rights crap. Let me take you home.”

  With each statement, the defiance drained from her stance, and guilt filled her eyes. Defeated, she slumped onto the nearby cot and nodded.

  Finn closed his eyes, fighting for composure. One hurdle down. He hoped they’d exit the building without any more hysterics. As soon as he obtained her agreement, his indignation dissolved.

  “If that’s a yes,” Cadet Green spoke, “I’m opening the door again.” She did so and scurried back to the office.

  Finn squeezed through the opening and knelt next to Vena, wishing he had chosen gentler words. “Hey, Vena, we can go. Stand up, Elfie.” With one hand on an elbow and the other around her waist, he eased her up and guided her out to the office. She leaned against him and, in that moment, he enjoyed being there for her.

  Deputy Mullen waited at the counter with several forms and a basket holding her belt, a silver necklace, and a pack of gum. He placed two sheets of paper in front of her and laid a pen between them on the counter. “Sign here and here, ma’am, and you’re free to go.”

  Vena straightened her spine, scribbled her name on the indicated line, and grabbed her belongings. Without a word, she stomped to the door.

  Finn quickly read over the release form Dwayne pushed toward him and signed it. “You can reach us at The Shamrocks about the hearing date. G’night.” He opened the outer door and pointed out where his truck was parked.

  Head held high, Vena marched across the sidewalk, tripped on the parking block, and then climbed into the passenger side of the truck.

  Finn noticed the determined set of her expression and silently cheered the return of her fighting spirit. As he got in the car, he saw she was huddled against her door. With a gentle move, he reached to touch her shoulder. “Vena…”

  Before he said more, she launched herself into his arms, a wet cheek pressed against his neck. “Thanks, Finn, I’ve never b-been through anything so h-horrible. You’re my knight in shining armor.”

  At the sound of her sobs, his anger evaporated, and he gathered her into a tight embrace. Their bodies melted together, and he became aware how her shuddering sobs caused her breasts to move against his chest. He raised a hand to smooth the hair from her damp cheeks, and his hand wrapped around the back of her head.

  Words of comfort came from his mouth, but he wasn’t aware of actually saying anything important. After a few moments, they had the desired calming effect, and Vena’s sobs quieted. Finn had no idea how long they sat in the parking lot. Didn’t matter. He might only be a pretend fiancé but, at that moment, nothing was more important than holding this intriguing woman.

  Chapter Eleven

  PULLING INTO THE SHAMROCK’S driveway, Finn realized he’d maneuvered through the streets of Dry Creek on autopilot. All his thoughts focused on the woman resting her head against his arm.

  He wanted to offer more than a reassuring hug and a napkin for her tears. If he was honest, what he really wanted was to take her to the seclusion of his room and make her forget all about bigheaded deputies and the unpredictability of the outside world.

  The sight of a fragile, uncertain Vena had unnerved him. This was not the self-assured woman who’d talked her way into The Shamrocks in the middle of the night, or the confident, handy person who’d tackled the bathroom drain. Although he enjoyed teasing the strong Vena, Finn was surprised to learn he ached to protect the insecure Elfie.

  He didn’t want to worry. She could blow holes in the groundwork of the political campaign now being organized in Helena. How feasible was carrying out his original plan to announce their engagement? Had too much damage been done by her arrest? Since theirs wasn’t a real engagement, the positive spin on tonight’s incident would only be a temporary cover-up.

  When he visualized James Burtell’s reaction to the news of her arrest, and what explanation Finn could make on her behalf, he shuddered. Maybe the best thing would be to create distance from her and the bad press, and locate another woman who would agree to stand in.

  Possibly one of the casserole ladies.

  He shuddered at the thoughts—so typical of the politics he disliked the most.

  “Why are you just sitting here?” She sat upright and examined the interior of the truck’s cab.

  He glanced sideways and spotted her defeated expression. “Today’s been long, Vena.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” she mumbled. “Nothing like getting arrested to top off the thrills.”

  He leaned his forearms on the steering wheel and stared straight ahead. “I’d hoped everything would be over when we got home. Judging by the line of parked cars, half the Ladies’ Hospital Auxiliary must be camped out in The Shamrocks’ front room.”

  Vena’s head whipped around, and she peered out the windshield. “Maybe they’re having a meeting at
a neighbor’s house? At Ruth’s and Tootie’s.”

  As he removed the truck key and opened the door, Finn shook his head. “I heard Tootie say something about no decent food in Dry Creek’s jail and that maybe she’d make coffee and sandwiches. Looks like she called in reinforcements and a three-course meal awaits us.” He slid out the driver’s door and started around the front of the vehicle.

  She slouched in her seat, peeking over the bottom of the side window. “I can’t go in there. I’m too embarrassed to face anyone right now.”

  As she spoke, the front door opened and Ruth Maguire stepped outside.

  “Maybe you can tell them I’m exhausted, and I’ll sneak through the back door.”

  Several more gray-haired, bespectacled ladies peeked through the lace curtains. “Too late. You’ve been spotted.”

  She groaned and ducked lower, almost slithering off of the seat onto the floorboards.

  He stuck his head inside her open window. “Might as well hustle your cute little behind in there and get this over with. Those ladies won’t let you sneak around to the back door.” When he connected with her skeptical gaze, he winked. “Be honest. Look them straight in the eyes. And, for both of our sakes, don’t dig the hole any deeper.”

  ****

  The confidence in Finn’s words registered in Vena’s numb brain. She straightened in the seat, gazed into his sky blue eyes, swam there for just a moment to gain strength, and then opened the passenger door. “You’re brilliant. This whole thing started because someone misunderstood what they thought they’d heard.” Stepping onto the driveway, she squared her shoulders and turned her attention to the front of The Shamrocks.

  By now, half a dozen women waited at the edge of the porch, hands clasped at their waists, staring in her direction. A couple of them waved and called out her name.

  Then the awful realization hit, and her stomach clenched. She would have to talk in front of all those women. Childhood memories of stuttering flashed across her mind. She knew she’d freeze up. “You go first, Finnian. I can’t handle this by myself.”

 

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