He tried to put his thoughts in order. “Look, I have a stack of things I have to finish before class ends. Do you mind if I head back to the office to get some notes so I can make a few phone calls before school gets out?” Thank goodness it was his prep period.
“Yeah, I’ll walk down with you.” Detective Carlson stood and accompanied him to Marsh’s classroom, where two men were rifling through his files and personal effects.
Marsh gritted his teeth and did his best to ignore it.
He grabbed his folder and headed for the teachers’ lounge, hearing the sound of keys jingling as the detective passed them off to one of the deputies, telling him to check the truck.
Marsh’s hands shook as he tried to focus on what had to be done, instead of what was going on right then. He’d never done anything seriously wrong. How could he be their chief suspect? And what would he do if this didn’t all go away after they found nothing?
After the cops finished checking Marsh’s truck and school areas, he followed the deputies back to his house and waited at the front gate while they searched there. His stomach was all tied up in knots, wondering what this would do to his reputation, even though they would never find the drugs on his property. It was a small town. Small-town people always found out about things like this, and the four sheriff’s vehicles parked in front of his house were making his neighbors peek out through their windows at him.
The cold wind whistled through the trees and brushed against his neck, making Marsh hunker lower into his coat collar. It was overcast and there was another snow storm expected that night. That was perfect, as far as he was concerned; cold and gray suited his mood at the moment.
His cell phone rang and he answered, grateful to see Hank’s name on the Caller ID, and wondering why he hadn’t thought to contact his friend before now.
“What’s this about the deputies searching your place?” Hank asked, anger filling his voice. “Did you just let them in, or do they have a warrant?”
“I let them in. I don’t have anything to hide. But man, I wish this was over.” Marsh pulled his coat tighter around him; it was freezing! “I’m waiting outside for them to finish up. You want to come over? I could use a little company. This is taking forever.”
“I’ll bring some coffee and be there in a few.”
It took more than ten minutes for Hank to arrive, but when he did, he held two cups of something hot and steaming. Marsh was glad to wrap his hands around it.
“Hear anything yet?” Hank asked as he sipped at his drink.
“Of course not. I probably won’t hear anything until next week, even if they finish in five minutes.” It was an exaggeration, but Marsh wasn’t feeling his most upbeat at the moment. He took a drink of his coffee, relishing the heat as it flowed down his throat, warming him from the inside. “I just can’t get over one of the boys saying that I’m responsible for any of this. It’s insane.”
“Did you call a lawyer?” Hanks asked.
Marsh shook his head. “What’s the point? They won’t find anything, and then they’ll be out of my hair. Paying a lawyer two hundred bucks to tell me not to let them in without a warrant seems like a waste of time and money.”
Hank distracted Marsh with talk about pro basketball until a couple of the deputies came out, Trent in the front, carrying a big plastic bag. Marsh’s heart almost stopped when he realized they’d found something they thought at least a little incriminating.
“What you got there?” Hank asked.
“Drugs. Just like the ones we confiscated from the kids,” Trent said. His eyes shifted back to Marsh. “Sorry. I don’t have any choice.”
One of the men walked behind Marsh and grabbed his right wrist, twisting it back. “You’re under arrest for distributing drugs to minors.” He continued with the Miranda rights.
Marsh twisted his head, trying to get a look at what was in the black garbage sack. “You’ve got to be mistaken. No way did I have anything to do with this. You think I would just let you search my place without a warrant if I had something to hide? I could have had those flushed down the toilet faster than you could have talked to a judge.”
Trent’s face was grim. “It’s not my job to think about that right now. It’s my job to bring you in. We’ll work out the rest later.”
Marsh looked at Hank, who stood by helpless. “Call someone for me.” He had a sudden image of Karissa getting the news and freaking out. Would she think he had been lying all along? “Oh, no. Karissa. She’s going to wig.”
“I’ll go talk to her. Don’t worry.” Hank nodded and moved out of the way so they could lead Marsh to the police car. He already had his phone in his hand and was dialing.
The first flakes of the snowstorm started to fall as they forced Marsh into the back of the musty car. He wondered how someone had gotten into his locked house to plant the drugs, and how he was going to get out of this mess.
Chicken soup bubbled on the kitchen stove, filling the house with a comforting aroma. Karissa gave it another stir as the back door opened and Hank walked in. She looked up and smiled. “A little early, isn’t it? I didn’t expect you to get off work for another half an hour.” Her smile slipped when she saw the brackets around his mouth and the determination in his eyes.
“Yeah, well, things are going on, so I left early.” He stopped in front of her, gestured a little helplessly for a moment, then stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I had to come tell you, Marsh is in trouble.”
Worry zinged through her, but she held herself still for a moment. “What do you mean? Is he hurt?”
“No. He’s been arrested. Someone planted drugs at his house. They took him to be booked a little while ago. I called an attorney, but he’s in Denver and won’t be back before morning. The roads are already starting to get nasty and it hasn’t been snowing long.”
Karissa sat down hard in a nearby chair, trying to believe what she’d heard. Had she really known him so little that he could fool her like that? Of course Dennis had, but she really had thought better of Marsh, despite the knee-jerk way she had been acting the past few days. “He was selling the drugs all along?”
“Come on.” Hank’s words shot out hard and fast as bullets. “You don’t really think he did it, do you? I thought you knew him better than that.” The disgust in Hank’s voice was blatant. “He was framed. Had to be. No chance he sold drugs to kids. And I can’t believe you’ve been dating him this long and haven’t figured out the kind of guy he is before now. What’s wrong with you, lately?”
“I never thought Dennis would cheat on me, either, but he did,” she said. “It’s not like I have a history of making good choices where men are concerned. How can I be sure Marsh didn’t do it if they found the drugs at his place?” She felt sick at the thought that she might have been duped again, and even sicker when she thought that he might be innocent and Hank was right about the framing. What was she going to do? How could she decide?
“I thought you might be upset about what could happen to him in jail.” Hank’s voice was frigid now, his eyes hard. “But apparently I was totally wrong. You know, he thought you were ready for a relationship, for the chance to get to know someone and take a chance again, but I guess he was wrong. Never mind. You don’t have to come with me and talk to him. You stay here in your orderly little world.”
He turned and headed for the back door again.
“Where are you going?” Karissa hadn’t like his tone, but she didn’t know how to deal with any of this. And did Hank have to dump his own feelings on top of everything? Couldn’t he see where she was coming from?
“I’m going to help Dad, then I’m going to see if there’s anything I can do for my friend once he’s been booked.” The door slammed shut behind him, making the room echo.
“What was that?” Beth asked as she came into the kitchen a moment later.
“Hank. We…” Karissa didn’t want to tell anyone about Marsh, and Hank was right, she had to go to the jail to talk to Marsh
herself. She wondered how long it would take to book him. They might be done by the time she arrived. “Look. I gotta go into town. I’ll explain later. Do you mind watching Paul?”
Beth came forward and laid a hand on her daughter’s cheek, concern etched on her face. “That’s fine. Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine. I have to talk to Marsh, if I can.” She set the spoon she’d been waving around down on a plate and headed out to gather her things.
Karissa didn’t know what to think as she drove through the snowy mountain passes on her way to the jail. All she knew for sure was that Marsh, the man she thought she knew, the man she was falling for, hard, would never have provided steroids to kids. But how could she trust her instincts when they’d been faulty in the past?
How could she believe in Marsh now that he’d been proved a liar and a cheat? A drug dealer? Was she just telling herself that he couldn’t do it to make herself feel better? What did it say about her as a person if she always seemed to pick the guys she shouldn’t date? What was wrong with her?
And more, what was wrong with him? How could he be that kind of man?
Of course, her time as a cop had shown her that crooks weren’t as easy to fit into a mold as television made them out to be. There may be certain segments of society that were more inclined to be crooks, but there were plenty of people outside that range who were every bit as dirty as the dealer on the street.
But how could it be Marsh?
She fought her inner demons, trying to decide if she wanted to see him more because she wanted to tell him off for making a fool of her, or to find out what was going on and help him. Her gut churned, her heart was breaking, and she didn’t know if she could deal with this right now, on top of everything else.
The trip to town didn’t seem to take nearly as long as usual, and she soon found herself in the jail, waiting for them to seat her in one of the visiting rooms. In a moment she would face Marsh through a piece of glass and hope to get the truth.
Would she be able to tell if it was the truth? She doubted it.
Marsh entered a few minutes later wearing the orange jumpsuit that indicated he was a county inmate. He looked tired, upset, and anxious. Surprise crossed his features when he saw her.
“I didn’t expect you. Definitely not tonight. How did you find out so quickly?” he asked when he sat across from her.
“Hank came by.”
“Of course, and you rushed right over because there’s nothing I want more than for you to see me like this.” Bitterness seeped out with every word.
She crossed her arms over her stomach, wondering what she should think or say. “I can’t decide if I’m more incensed that you’ve been arrested when you’re obviously not guilty, or if I’m angry because you’ve been tricking me, making me think you’re someone you really aren’t.”
Hurt crossed his features and he sat back in his seat. “So you don’t believe in me.”
Hot tears rose in Karissa’s eyes and she fought the emotion back, hoping to keep control of herself. “I don’t know. I want to believe in you.” She sucked in a breath and felt relief when the tears didn’t fall. “More than anything, I want to believe in you. Just, please, give me a reason.” She leaned closer until her face was only inches from the glass.
Marsh held her gaze for a long moment. “I would never hurt you, Karissa, not on purpose, and I swear I’ll never lie to you. I have no idea why the kid used my name, or how those drugs ended up in my place, but I had nothing to do with it. You have to believe me.”
Karissa’s chest tightened with pain, but she decided to believe him, for now at least. It didn’t make sense that he would be the drug dealer. It wasn’t like him. She may not know him as well as she’d like, but Hank did, and he believed in Marsh. She grasped onto the hope that thought provided and decided to focus on it for now.
“Okay. So we need to move ahead and find a way to prove you’ve been framed. Hank said he called a lawyer for you, but Bruce won’t be here until tomorrow. Do you know when you’ll get to speak with a judge? Did they say if you might get your hearing tomorrow?” She set aside her misgivings and personal hurt and focused on what was ahead. She was a former cop; she knew how they worked, how they thought. Time to see what she could scrounge up in Marsh’s defense.
After spending another fifteen minutes grilling Marsh for information, Karissa left the visiting room, but the dispatcher called to her on the intercom before she reached the outside door and told her to come back to talk.
When she arrived, Trent was waiting for her, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Do you believe him?” he asked.
“Yeah, I do,” Karissa said with more conviction than she felt. “I know you pretty much can’t tell me anything since I’m involved with him. But I’m going to ask you for a favor.” She twisted her fingers together in front of her, wondering what Trent would think about her request. She really didn’t know him that well yet. “Marsh says he’s not part of this. That means whatever packaging the pills were in won’t have his fingerprint on it. Please, will you dust all of the bags or containers or whatever? Just check to see if someone else’s prints might be on there. And that his aren’t, because if they were under his mattress like you said, he’s got to have something on there, at least a partial print. But if he’s telling the truth, you won’t find anything.”
Trent folded his arms over his chest as his jaw set in a hard line. “Are you telling us how to do our job?” He lifted a brow, stony faced, but his tone was nonthreatening.
“Please, as a favor to me, and to ensure you’re being as thorough as I’ve seen you be before.” Karissa was tired and needed an hour to herself to pull her thoughts back into line. “I know you’ll probably do this anyway, but sooner rather than later, do you think you could do that much for me? So we know where to go next?”
There was a long pause before he nodded. “Fine. I’ll do it. Detective Carlson will have to look it over before we decide anything else, but I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”
“Thank you.” Karissa turned back to the door.
“You realize even if his fingerprints aren’t on the containers, it doesn’t mean that he’s innocent,” Trent said before she could reach the hall.
She looked back over her shoulder. “Yeah, but it’ll help you build your case one way or the other. You’re smart enough to put two and two together if his prints aren’t there. That’s all I need.” Karissa left the room, glad she wasn’t working that night.
She would figure out what else ought to be investigated and then talk to the lawyer about it in the morning.
Karissa went home but spent the next couple of hours watching the clock, wondering if they’d dusted for fingerprints yet. Would Trent let her know? Would they even do it that night, or would he put it off until the next morning? His shift was nearly over when she spoke with him.
And when everything came back free of Marsh’s prints, then what? Trent was right that it didn’t prove that Marsh wasn’t the dealer; it just proved that his fingerprints weren’t there. What was the next order of business?
Finally her cell phone rang and she recognized the number from the Sheriff’s office. Her hands shook as she pushed the accept button.
“Hey, it’s Trent,” he greeted her. “There were none of Marsh’s prints on the containers inside the main bag.”
“I knew it.” She pumped her fist in celebration as relief poured into her.
“However,” Trent continued, “his prints were on the outside bag. All over it, actually.”
She stopped in surprise. “What?”
“The bag the drugs were in, the big one, it has his prints on it. More than one set.”
Karissa slumped against the wall as her heart broke all over again. She’d believed Marsh was telling the truth. But then how did his fingerprints get on the drug bag? “Oh. Thanks for checking for me. I know it was more work for you.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Trent said. �
��Look, there were other prints on the bottles inside; most had been wiped clean, leaving just a smear of oil, but there was almost a full thumb print on the bottom of one bottle. The computer doesn’t know whose it is, but it isn’t Marsh’s. I have them running the print on some other databases. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
It could be a long shot, but they didn’t have anything more to go on. “Okay, thanks again.” Karissa hung up and tried to decide what to do next, but her head was spinning and she was totally lost about the next step.
She decided that she needed sleep. Maybe she’d feel better in the morning.
Marsh slept poorly, waiting for the clock hand to turn back around and make it morning. He’d convinced Karissa to give him a chance, which was better than having her write him off completely. On the other hand, she thought he might be guilty. Would she continue to believe him if the detective didn’t find out who was really selling to the kids?
The cell door opened and an officer walked in. “Your lawyer is here, so we have some questions for you.”
Finally. Marsh had started to wonder if Bruce was ever going to get there.
The officer led him to an interrogation room where his attorney and Detective Carlson were seated.
Marsh took the chair beside Bruce and waited for the detective.
“So, now that you’ve got your attorney present, are you ready to talk?” the detective asked.
Marsh shrugged and tried not to let out his irritation. “I don’t know anything, so there’s really nothing I can help you with, but you can ask.”
Detective Carlson picked up a large, clear plastic bag from the chair beside him and set it on the table. “You know nothing? So how did these drugs get in your place? And how come your fingerprints are all over the bag they were in?”
Second Chances: Love in Juniper Ridge (Carver Ranch Book 1) Page 13