It's In His Arms (A Red River Valley Novel Book 4)

by Shelly Alexander

  Lorenda had broken every traffic law in the county by the time she hit the Red River city limits.

  Fire trucks still surrounded the construction site of the new rec center. Smoke poured from the building, but no flames were visible.

  Lorenda motored past and pulled into the sheriff’s office parking lot.

  As soon as Lorenda walked through the front doors, Becky ran to her, arms open, eyes red. She threw her arms around Lorenda. “My husband suspects Mitchell for a fire at the rec center.”

  Lorenda gave her a hug and then motioned her into a chair in the waiting room. Oddly, Badass Becky sat without an argument and blew into a tissue, while Lorenda went to find someone who could tell her what had happened.

  “What’s going on, Sheriff?” Lorenda stepped into her father-in-law’s path as he emerged from the hall.

  “I’m questioning the suspect, that’s what’s going on.” He tried to step around her.

  She moved in front of him again and tried to muster a resting bitch face. She darn well wanted some answers, and until she got them, she wasn’t playing nice. Playing nice hadn’t gotten her much in life except heartache. “Do you have other suspects?”

  The sheriff tapped the file in his hand. “No. A motorcycle was seen leaving the scene, and I caught up with Mitchell driving a motorcycle on his way back to your place. In the middle of the night.”

  “So?” Lorenda said. “Lots of people drive motorcycles.”

  The interrogation room door jerked open and Mitchell stepped out. He stilled when his eyes locked onto Lorenda.

  “Mitchell has a history of this kind of behavior, as you well know. No one else in town does.” The sheriff spoke like Mitchell wasn’t in the room.

  “What are you doing here?” Mitchell asked Lorenda.

  “I called her.” Becky ran over.

  “I got here as fast as I could,” Lorenda said as his eyes slid down her body. She realized how she must look. Hair a mess. Sleep still in her eyes. Black leggings, flip-flops, and a fitted black shirt that left nothing to the imagination, especially the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra. She crossed both arms across her chest.

  “I’m fine.” He shot a look at his mother.

  He was just as stubborn-assed as he was badass. So Lorenda ignored him.

  “Mitchell’s history consists of a fire that happened well over a decade ago and was an accident, Sheriff,” Lorenda said.

  “It was irresponsible and could’ve cost lives. Like I said, it establishes a pattern.”

  But Mitchell’s involvement . . . or lack of involvement . . . could easily be cleared up.

  And it was time.

  “Maybe the point here is that things aren’t always as they appear on the surface. Maybe if Mitchell finally explains exactly how that fire at Joe’s accidentally got started, it will clear some things up.” She tried to return Mitchell’s stony stare until the muscles in her face started to ache. Because, dammit, a resting bitch face wasn’t as easy as it seemed. Being a hardass wasn’t at all natural to her the way it seemed to be for the Lawsons.

  “There’s nothing left to say.” Mitchell’s tone was low and granite hard. “I think you should leave,” he said to Lorenda. “There’s nothing you can do.”

  Yeah, not going anywhere.

  The sheriff studied his son for a second, then turned his attention to Lorenda. “Mitchell doesn’t want you here because you can probably hurt him more than you can help.”

  Mitchell crossed both arms over his chest and let a deadly silence hang between him and his father.

  “Larry, he’s our son!” Becky teared up again.

  The sheriff’s expression softened. “Do you think I enjoy this, Becky?”

  Mitchell cleared his throat as if to say he sure thought so.

  The sheriff’s look went hard again. “Because I don’t. Never have, but I’ve got a responsibility to the badge I wear. I don’t turn a blind eye for anyone. It’s a promise I made to this town when I first ran for sheriff, and it’s a promise I’ve stood by for darn near forty years.”

  A riot of sobs overtook Becky.

  The sheriff tapped the file again. “Mitchell doesn’t have an alibi for tonight. Says he hiked up to Middle Fork Lake. Alone. In the middle of the night.”

  “I did hike up to Middle Fork Lake in the middle of the night. Alone.”

  “Lorenda, can you tell me when Mitchell left your premises?”

  “Um . . .” This was so not good. She glanced at the clock on the wall, and her heart fell to her feet with a thunk. It had been hours since she’d heard Mitchell leave the apartment, and that made the situation far worse than she’d thought.

  The sheriff crossed his arms, mimicking Mitchell. He didn’t look the least bit smug. The lines around his mouth ran deep with exhaustion and sadness.

  “You’re going to have to make a statement sooner or later, Lorenda,” the sheriff said.

  “He’s right.” Mitchell’s stare didn’t leave his father. “You might as well tell him now.”

  Lorenda drew in a shaky breath. She had to two choices. Door number one—lie about the time, but the sheriff would know she was lying and that would make Mitchell look guiltier. Plus, lying had already screwed up this family enough. Door number two—tell the truth and confirm that he had no alibi, which might lead to his arrest.

  Where the hell is Angelique?

  There was no doubt in Lorenda’s mind that Mitchell wasn’t responsible. She couldn’t allow more blame to be laid at his feet for something he hadn’t done. An idea flickered to life in the back recesses of her mind. There might be another way, albeit drastic. Something she’d heard Angelique talk about once.

  Foxtrot.

  “Don’t you have more to tell your parents first?” Lorenda gave Mitchell a chance to make this right and save them both from door number three.

  “No. I don’t.” His voice turned gritty. “But you can tell them everything about tonight.” He emphasized the last word like it was a silent warning not to talk about the past.

  Damned stubborn Lawson men. He wasn’t going to save himself this time any more than he had the last. She’d have to take door number three and all of the uncertainties that waited behind it. It was the only solution that bought Mitchell time.

  “Your spouse doesn’t have to do any such thing, Mitchell.” Lorenda ignored his look of confusion and stepped to his side to hook an arm in his. She flashed a bright smile at her in-laws. “Because we’re getting married.”

  Mitchell covered a sputter with a fist like he was coughing.

  Becky’s expression blanked.

  “It’s called spousal privilege.” She probably should’ve waited for Angelique before sacrificing herself on the altar to see that justice was done. “A husband and wife don’t have to incriminate each other.”

  As if on cue, the front door flew open, and Angelique blew through it. Her shark-like expression announced to everyone in the room that she was ready for a fight.

  “Don’t say another word,” she said to Mitchell. No hello, no smile. Just a look and a tone that had Lorenda thanking the heavens that she and Angelique were on the same side.

  “They wanted to interview me about Mitchell’s whereabouts, but I, uh, just invoked my right of spousal privilege.” Lorenda gave Angelique a look that said play along.

  Angelique didn’t miss a beat. “Then my client should be free to go, unless you have sufficient evidence for an arrest, which I’m assuming you don’t, since he’s not cuffed.”

  The sheriff frowned. “At this point it’s circumstantial.”

  Mitchell took a step toward the door, and Lorenda stayed right at his side, her arm still hooked through his.

  “Not so fast,” the sheriff said.

  Mitchell stopped dead with a heavy sigh, causing Lorenda to stumble.

  “They’re not married yet,” the sheriff said to Angelique. “Spousal privilege doesn’t count for crimes that occur before the marriage.”

  Del
ta.

  Lorenda tried to keep a cast-iron expression like Angelique’s. Wasn’t happening. She so needed to take lessons or something.

  “You’re not going to stop until you find a reason to send me to prison for real, are you?” Mitchell said to his father, but the sheriff ignored him.

  “We’ll be getting married in a few days,” Lorenda blurted. Mitchell tensed, but she kept her arm hooked through his and stroked his bicep.

  Angelique kept a steady stare trained on the sheriff. “My clients have nothing more to say. And for the record, spousal privilege as it pertains to adverse testimony counts for matters that occur before and during the marriage.”

  Thank God. Lorenda let out the breath she’d been holding.

  The sheriff’s gaze shifted from Angelique to Lorenda, then to Mitchell. “Only guilty people lawyer up.”

  “Or people who are being treated like they’re guilty without sufficient evidence,” Angelique said.

  Lorenda cleared her throat. “We’ll be in touch with the details,” she said to Becky. Hopefully before the authorities found something that could be used against Mitchell. “No sense waiting when you know it’s right.”

  “Lorenda, do you know how much trouble you can get into for hindering an investigation?” The sheriff’s frown deepened.

  “When you have enough evidence to arrest Mitchell, let us know.” Angelique said. “Until then, we’re done here.”

  “Can we go?” Lorenda asked, all innocence. “I have wedding plans to discuss with my fiancé.”

  Mitchell stiffened, his eyes clouding over.

  Becky’s stunned look slowly turned to a smile. “Well, what do you know? I get a wonderful daughter-in-law all over again.”

  The look on Sheriff Lawson’s face told Lorenda they weren’t just in-laws anymore. She and Mitchell had just been declared outlaws.

  “Thanks, Angelique,” Mitchell said once the three of them stepped into the parking lot and were alone. Dawn colored the sky pale purple as both he and Angelique turned their attention on Lorenda.

  Who started to chew a plump lip.

  “Spousal privilege?” Angelique said. “Really?”

  Lorenda shifted from one Nike flip-flop to the other. “Um—”

  Angelique held up a hand. “That wasn’t actually a question. And since you’ve invoked the right, I suggest you two actually become spouses as quickly as possible.” She pulled a set of keys from her purse and pointed the remote over a shoulder at her Lexus. It chirped, and she backed toward the car. “Call me later with the wedding plans. As my wedding gift, I’ll take care of the cake. If the Ostergaards can’t do it on such short notice, I’ll have my mom and grandma drive up from Albuquerque and we’ll make it ourselves.”

  “Thanks, Ang,” Lorenda said.

  “What the hell was that?” Mitchell asked Lorenda as soon as Angelique pulled out of the parking lot. He hadn’t expected to walk out of the sheriff’s office without cuffs. Walking out with a new fiancée was an even bigger surprise.

  He took the driver’s seat without asking Lorenda’s permission. If he was expected to be the man of the family, then he was damn sure going to act the part.

  She stared straight ahead at the side of the brick building and chewed her lip.

  “Do you know what you’ve done?” He threw a wrist over the steering wheel.

  “Saved your ass?”

  Well, hell. Besides that.

  He scrubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw. “I’m already the town outcast. Now they’ll want my head on a spike and probably yours too.” He couldn’t let that happen.

  “The people here have been my friends and family since I was born. I have more faith in them than that. Red River looks out for their own. Even if they have doubts about you because of your past, they’ll trust my judgment.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sparky, you haven’t been on the receiving end of their grudges. They do look out for their own. That’s my point. They don’t see me as one of their own.”

  Lorenda gave her head a stubborn shake. “I don’t believe that.”

  “We’re going to wait an hour and then announce to everyone that it was a misunderstanding. That we’re still just friends.” Not to mention in-laws. Thank God there wasn’t an audience in the waiting room like the day of the mugging.

  “Oh good. If we wait an hour, that will give you plenty of time to tell your parents the truth.” Lorenda stared him down. That stubborn female look in her eye told him she wasn’t backing off.

  That kind of look was fairly new, coming from her. He liked it when it wasn’t directed at him. But when it was, it sucked.

  “The truth will hurt the boys.” Bingo. Pulling the mother’s-guilt card worked because her lip chewing commenced.

  “We don’t need to tell anyone but your parents. They have a right to know what really happened to Cotton-Eyed Joe’s on graduation night. You and I have been covering for Cameron too long.”

  And now he couldn’t follow through on his threat to leave Red River if she spilled the truth. His father had issued a warning for him not to leave town during the investigation.

  “When did Cameron tell you that he started the fire?” Mitchell softened his tone.

  She turned a sad look on him. “I loved Cameron, but I can’t tiptoe around his faults anymore. Not with you, Mitchell.”

  Right. Cameron hadn’t told her. Taking responsibility wasn’t his MO. She’d figured it out some other way.

  “Then how did you know?” To his surprise, his words came out in a whisper.

  “That night he climbed up to my window like a scene right out of Romeo and Juliet.” She chuckled. “At least that’s how a teenage girl would see it.” One of her thumbs worked furiously against the other. “He was nervous. Upset and scared, I think, but he wouldn’t say why. When I hugged him, he smelled like smoke. I didn’t want to believe it, but as time went on . . .”

  She looked away, because they both knew that as time went on, Cameron’s behavior formed a pattern.

  Silence hung in the air.

  Finally she asked, “The three of us were good friends since we were little kids, but do you know why I fell for Cameron and not you?” She laughed. “I mean, besides the fact that you weren’t in the least bit interested in me beyond being buddies.”

  “It had nothing to do with not being interested, Sparky. Hell, I was a guy, and you’d grown into a knockout, but Cameron was clearly head over heels, and there’s a bro code I couldn’t breach. So when he finally worked up the nerve to ask you out in high school, I accepted that you and I would always be friends.”

  “Oh,” she whispered, her eyes round.

  “But now I’m curious since you brought it up,” Mitchell said.

  “Cameron was Red River’s golden boy. Everybody loved him. I thought he was the safer bet. Turns out I was wrong, and that night was the first clue. I just chose to ignore it.” Her sigh was heavy with sadness. “As time went on, I just knew in my heart that he was the one who had started the fire and not you.”

  He let his head fall back against the headrest, and relief washed through him. Relief that someone he could trust finally knew the truth. Knew he was an upstanding guy who not only didn’t start that fire but also hadn’t ratted out his only brother.

  “It was an accident.” Mitchell propped his elbow against the door and rubbed his eyes. “We were all goofing around that night, drinking and acting like eighteen-year-old idiots. We set off some fireworks behind Cotton-Eyed Joe’s. Joe came out and ran us all off. Everybody left, but Cameron forgot the lighter so he went back for it alone.”

  He stopped. It wasn’t necessary to tell Lorenda that Cameron had decided to set off the last of the firecrackers before running away, just to get back at Joe.

  Lorenda put a hand over his, her warmth making his heart ache with regret. And need.

  “Let me guess,” she said. “Someone saw Cam running away and everyone assumed it was you.”

  Mit
chell nodded in silence, because he was too choked up for words.

  “And you never told them otherwise.”

  And neither did Cam.

  He leaned over the console, taking in her silky hair that was just messy enough to make his brain go haywire, her full lips that were just plump enough to make his mouth go watery. Her black outfit that was just tight enough to make his prick go hard.

  He smoothed down her cheek with the back of one finger. “Why, Sparky? Why are you going to such lengths to help me?” Because no one else had ever done so except maybe his mom, and the solution Lorenda had come up with wasn’t in her best interest.

  “I can’t let you take the blame for something else you didn’t do,” she whispered.

  He wanted to take that plump bottom lip between his teeth and nibble. Instead, he said, “You’ve kind of got me by the balls, Sparky. Is there any way I can talk you out of this?”

  She gave her head a small shake and swallowed as his finger slid down her neck. “Not unless you’re willing to set the record straight with your folks.”

  It was Mitchell’s turn to shake his head. “Can’t do that. It would destroy my father. He might have a heart attack on the spot, and losing him would crush my mother. That’s a chance I can’t take.”

  He pulled away just enough to let his eyes wander down her length, and if he hadn’t been sure that she was braless inside the station, he sure was now. Her perky breasts strained toward him, forming two nice peaks that he’d like to see without that tight-ass shirt. Sexy as it was.

  “I could do worse than having you as my wife.” He said it like it was a warning. A very sensual warning loaded with as much innuendo as he could pack into so few words.

  Her lips parted. Her eyes dilated. And he thought for sure she was going to cave.

  A pink tongue slid out to wet the seam of her mouth. “I’ve been through worse in my life too.”

  Dammit. She’d been through far worse.

  He retreated in his mind just long enough to launch a counter assault. He had one more shot at getting her to surrender.

  “What about Jaycee and Trevor?”

  Her eye twitched.

  “I’m a mother, Mitchell. I’d want someone to help them. Especially if they were too bullheaded to help themselves.” Her thumb kept working fiercely against the other. “Let me ask you something.” She stared at her fidgeting fingers. “Do you care about my kids?”