by Juniper Hart
“You have a very good case for self-defense,” Cameron told her urgently, collapsing into a chair before her. “Is that what happened? You stabbed him somehow when he was coming after you?”
“I wish,” Gabriella sighed. She peered at him helplessly. “Never mind,” she told him. “I know you’re just doing your job. If I were you, I would think I did it, too.”
Cameron clenched his teeth together so that he could stop himself from telling her what he really thought: he had made a mistake arresting her.
She is going to spend the rest of her life in prison because you acted rashly. You could have shot him, stepped into that apartment as a policeman, not in Lycan form, but you let your anger overcome you.
He did not want to think about why he had allowed for the transition to occur; the truth was disturbing to him.
It’s your fault she’s in this position. You have to do something to fix it and fast. They’re transferring her to Montana Women’s Prison tomorrow after her arraignment.
“Will you be able to make bail?” he asked, and Gabriella’s jaw clenched. She eyed him as if considering asking him something.
“I have the money,” she finally answered. “But I can’t access it without anyone finding out where I am. I guess I’ll be rotting in prison until my trial date.”
Cameron studied her beautiful face, his heart thumping wildly.
“I can get it to you without having it traced back to Great Falls,” he told her quietly.
Gabriella snorted aloud.
“Oh yeah? Sure, I’ll give you access to my bank accounts, no problem. You’re the reason I’m here in the first place,” she reminded him. “Why the hell would you help me unless there’s something in it for you?”
Cameron did not have an answer for her. He forced an expression of hardness onto his face and rose.
“You may not believe this, Miss Medina, but I do want to help you. I don’t think you’re a bad woman. I just think you got caught up in something you can’t get out of. Let’s get back to your cell.”
Reluctantly, she rose to her feet, her wide dark eyes fastened on his face.
“None of this is my doing,” she told him in a low voice as they exited the blue-grey room. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”
Cameron wondered if she meant the murder or the scandal she had left behind in New York.
The previous night, unable to rest his racing mind, Cameron had looked up the newcomer on the internet, wanting to learn more about her. He refused to address the fact that he had an infatuation with the girl, but as the evening turned to night, he found himself pouring over hundreds on pictures of her online.
She is more beautiful in person, he thought, staring at her liquid eyes through the computer screen.
Cameron had met his fair share of attractive women over the years. He was the sheriff, after all. There was no shortage of women throwing themselves at him, yearning to be near his smoldering good looks and aura of power. Yet Cameron knew the dangers of involving himself with anyone outside his pack, and he had never crossed that line—until Gabriella had come along.
What inspired me to watch her? Was it to keep her safe or because I feel drawn to her?
He would never know, but his actions had spoken volumes. Since the night of the dream, he had known there was something compelling him toward Gabriella, a force he could not deny.
He secured the bars of her holding cell and cast her one last glance before turning away.
“Wait!” Gabriella called out desperately. “What will happen tomorrow?”
Slowly, he turned back to face her, reading the dread and panic in her face.
“You will be called before a judge who will hear the case. Your lawyer should have explained all this to you.”
“My lawyer is an idiot,” she sighed. “What does the judge decide?”
“He’ll discuss bail with the prosecutor and your attorney. Then you will be taken to Montana Women’s Prison in Billings until your bail is paid or until your trial date, which will also be set tomorrow.”
“How far away is Billings?” she demanded, her face growing pale as she realized she would be taken away from Great Falls.
“Three and a half hours.”
Gabriella’s face turned snow white, and for a moment, Cameron was sure she was going to faint.
“How long does it take to get bail posted?” she gasped, the thought of entering a building filled with caged women obviously terrifying her.
“You can post bail any time. If you have someone to do it, you won’t even need to get on a bus. You’ll be held in the courthouse pen until transport.”
They stared at one another, and Cameron felt his pulse quicken as Gabriella began to nod slowly.
“Will you be there tomorrow?” she whispered.
He stared at her.
No! You must not be there tomorrow, he told himself. You’re trying to cast suspicion away from the pack. You cannot afford to tie yourself up in this any more than you already have. You should not have volunteered to access her money. And if she is granted bail, she’ll be back on the streets with a potential target on her back. She can’t go home. The women’s prison is the best place for her. It’s got other dangers, but at least she’ll be alive.
“Sheriff?” she called plaintively, and he shifted his gaze away.
“Yes, I will be there for your arraignment,” he told her.
He saw relief flood her face, and she reached a slender hand through the bars to gesture for him to come closer.
“All of the information to my accounts is in a portable safe in my bedroom bathroom, beneath the false bottom of the sink cabinet. The code is 1819. I have no idea how much you’ll need, but I can sign over power of attorney to you, provided you ensure I am not traced back to this town.”
Her eyes were pleading and wide, her hand outstretched as if yearning for contact. He could read the terror in her face.
“This is very important to me,” she muttered. “Do you think you can help me while keeping me protected? I have a feeling that the guy in my house was sent from someone in New York. It is not just about me hiding from a mess I left back there. It’s about my life being in danger.”
Gabriella had not needed to tell him that; he had figured as much, but he did not want to say anything until he had concrete proof to his claim.
After scrolling through interviews and red-carpet strolls, Cameron had come across the situation with New York City’s mayor, David Charlotte. The mayor had confessed to the affair after pictures had emerged with him and an unknown brunette. He immediately claimed his lover to be the world-renowned model, Gabriella Medina. The model had vehemently denied any such tryst had occurred, but her word was not accepted and the media had turned on her overnight. She had become a laughingstock, a pariah, scorned by all avenues of society and dropped from some of her more family-oriented assignments.
It’s no wonder she hid in Montana, he thought grimly. Cameron tried not to judge the girl for her past mistakes, but that one was difficult to overlook. She had almost ruined a man’s career and family without even having the decency to admit her fault. Of course, it takes two to tango. The mayor wasn’t innocent in the situation. Still, it didn’t give anyone the right to threaten her life, and Cameron intended to learn who had sent out the order for her demise.
“I understand,” Cameron told her earnestly, again turning away from the cell. The other officers were watching him on camera, but he cared less than he had before.
My job is to serve and protect, and I will do it for anyone as I am sworn to do, he thought firmly. He owed no one an explanation for anything.
As he left the stationhouse and headed toward Gabriella’s home, he wondered, then, why he felt so guilty.
Probably because what I am doing is highly illegal, he reasoned. He pressed harder on the gas. There wasn’t much time to do what he had to do.
Chapter Eight
The county courthouse was minutes away from the police
station where Gabby was being held, but when she entered it, she felt as if she was in a different world. Gone was the semi-country feel of Great Falls, and she was enveloped in a feeling of terror.
“Just let me do the talking,” the nervous lawyer at her side instructed, but Gabriella could see beads of sweat formulating on his forehead.
A terrifying thought occurred to her as she glanced into the half-full courtroom. He’s not here, she thought, panicked, when she didn’t see Cameron Lapin. He’s not here and there is no guarantee that I will get bail anyway!
“Case number 642167, the people versus Grace Kelly…” The clerk glanced up to stare at Gabriella as if she was mocking him, and she averted her eyes immediately, allowing her long hair to cover her cheeks.
God, what if someone recognizes me? They’re going to find out who I am eventually, won’t they? Her heart hammered to almost dangerous proportions. Am I going to faint? What if I faint? Will they postpone the—
“How do you plead, princess?” the judge intoned without humor as he eyed her with contempt.
The judge hates me already and he hasn’t even heard anything.
She reasoned in a town the size of Great Falls, what had happened was hardly a well-kept secret.
“Not guilty, Your Honor,” Tristan called. The old judge glowered at the attorney.
“Mr. Bosley, you may think yourself a princess, but I was talking to Miss Kelly. I would like to hear it from her.”
Tristan’s already pale face turned crimson as he nudged her.
“Not guilty, Your Honor,” she breathed.
The elderly man continued to scrutinize her through half-moon glasses as if trying to assess how such a small thing could have committed such a big crime.
“Ms. Manor?” Abruptly, he turned to the prosecuting attorney, who smirked smugly at Gabriella before launching into her defense.
“Your Honor, Miss Kelly appeared out of nowhere, she has been in Great Falls for less than two weeks, and she has already become a public danger. She is charged with murdering a man in cold blood—”
“Cold blood?” Tristan interrupted. “Your Honor, the unidentified man at the scene was armed and broke into my client’s house while she slept! This woman is—”
“A killer!” Julia Manor sang in an almost perverse tone. Even Gabriella could not resist staring at her in disbelief. “Maybe your client does know who he is and lured him to his death, Bosley. Did that ever occur to you? Maybe that was her entire purpose for coming to Great Falls in the first place.”
“Are you talking to the defense, Ms. Manor?” the judge demanded, and Julia Manor lost her taunting expression immediately.
“I apologize, Your Honor. Of course not. I am only presenting to the court that there is much about this woman we do not know.”
“What do we know about the prosecutor?” Tristan countered, glaring at the pinch-faced blonde across the room.
“What do you want, Ms. Manor?” Judge Chandler sighed, sitting back in his high-back chair as if he had already had enough of the theatrics.
“Remand, sir. She has no ties to the community, no family, no—”
“No record!” Tristan shot out. “She has no reason to flee.”
“Your Honor,” another voice said, “if it pleases the court?” The players turned to look at a well-dressed man in a three-piece Gucci suit who had just entered the courtroom.
“Ah, shit,” Gabby heard the prosecutor mutter.
“Mr. Seaver,” the judge announced, his own eyes narrowing at the sight of the overdressed man. “To what do I owe the agony?”
“I have recently been obtained to represent Miss Kelly in her defense,” the attractive stranger announced. “I would like to say that I am willing to present any bond you deem reasonable and take full responsibility for her if you should have her released.”
Gabriella peered strangely at the man, looking past him for Cameron—surely this must be his doing—but the sheriff was not in the courtroom.
“Your Honor!” Julia Manor cried. “Just because Cory Seaver waltzes in here in his Gucci shoes—”
“They’re Armani, actually,” the lawyer piped up. “But do continue.”
She glowered at the man before turning back to the judge. “It doesn’t change the fact that Grace Kelly is a flight risk.”
“Any amount you deem reasonable, Your Honor,” Mr. Seaver called again.
“Sounds good to me, Ms. Manor. Bail is set at one million, cash or bond,” Judge Chandler announced, slamming his gavel, a relieved expression crossing over his face. “Next case.”
The bailiff came to escort Gabriella back to the pen, but Cory Seaver hurried forward.
“Don’t take her too far, Carl,” he told the guard. “She’s coming back up within the hour.”
Carl grunted in response, but nodded. Mr. Seaver stared after her, winking confidentially.
“Nice meeting you, Grace!” he called after her, and Gabriella could hear a slight mocking in his tone. She wanted to ask about Cameron, wanted to ask the lawyer if he had sent him.
“Where is—”
“See you soon!” Mr. Seaver yelled, cutting her off.
Gabby immediately understood: Cameron had sent the attorney in his place.
Of course. The sheriff can’t be caught helping me. He would get into too much trouble.
Gabriella did not know whether to be grateful or angry.
He could have warned me at least, she thought, but she immediately felt ashamed. He risked a lot helping you already. He could have just taken your money and laughed in your face. It would have been your word against his. And, your word as both Grace Kelly and Gabriella Medina sucks right now. You wouldn’t have a leg to stand on.
Not for the first time, Gabby thought about what a conundrum of emotions Cameron Lapin put her through.
He seems to hate me and then he helps me. He arrests me and then tries to get me released. Why is he so hot and then so cold?
She had no answer for her questions, but in that moment, she had no reason to be anything but thankful he had come through for her.
Mr. Seaver seems like a mouthpiece, she thought. She needed someone who could handle her case, not a meek mouse of a boy who could barely win a bail hearing.
The cell door slammed behind her, and Gabby slunk into a corner to sit on the scarred bench.
“Well, ain’t you a pretty one,” one of the two other women in the prison leered, licking her lips. “You comin’ back to the prison with us, honey?”
Gabby ignored her, gently tugging on her long, dark hair. It was a nervous habit she had forsaken years ago, but in her helplessness, she had found herself doing it with much more frequency over the past days.
If I ever make it out of this alive, I will never look for travel advice on a dingy New York subway car again.
“Oh, you too good for us, you uptight bitch?” the fleshy, middle-aged blonde asked, slinking closer to her, her stained red lips sneered upward. “You’re gonna be one of us soon, princess. You best lose that holier-than-thou stick in your ass. Why dontcha come here? I can give you some pointers.”
“Leave her alone, Lulu,” the other one snapped. “She’s not staying. Can’t you see she’s wearing five-hundred-dollar jeans?”
Lulu stepped back and examined the tiny brunette before her. She grimaced.
“I guess she can afford to buy her way outta here, huh?” Lulu growled, spitting at Gabby’s feet. “Must be nice.”
Gabriella bit back a scathing comment, knowing that she was not out of the woods yet.
You are close to tasting freedom. You don’t want to get your ass kicked before you leave, she reminded herself.
Lulu smirked, and Gabby moved her eyes away.
As soon as I get out of here, I will run. Maybe I’ll head south to Mexico. I should have gone to Mexico in the first place, she reprimanded herself. It will be much easier to get lost south of the border, and then I can find a place to go without an extradition treaty to the
US. I will need a fake ID, more money… Shit, how am I going to get more money? I can’t ask the sheriff. He’s not going to let me jump bail.
She needed to find someone to help her, but who could she trust?
A guard—a woman instead of Carl—walked up to the gate to unlock it.
“Come on, Kelly,” she called. “Your bail has been posted.”
“Look at that, Karen,” Lulu said to her companion. “You was right. The uppity bitch is leaving us already.”
Again, Gabby bit her lower lip to keep from responding as she hurried away from the women.
“Maybe I’ll see you again, princess,” Lulu called, spitting again. “When your rich sugar daddy is sick of you, I’ll be waitin’.”
“That’ll do, Lulu,” Karen called. “If it was meant to be, she’ll be back to us soon enough.”
The words sent a chill of apprehension through Gabriella, but she refused to show she was intimidated, shooting Lulu a cocky smile as the guard locked her back inside.
“I am in for murdering my sugar daddy,” Gabby called back at them. “And his wife.” She relished the look of surprise passing over Lulu’s face, but Karen smirked, turning her head as if she knew the words were false.
“You shouldn’t antagonize them, Kelly,” the female guard muttered as they headed out of the bowels of the courthouse. “You never know what the future holds. You may end up being one of their bitches.”
The cold truth of the statement made Gabby dizzy.
They can’t try me if they can’t find me, she told herself reassuringly. Mexico is a big country and they aren’t going to waste manpower searching for the suspected killer of a nobody. His fingers were too shredded to gather prints for identification and the ones on the gun were inconclusive.
They took the elevator to the main floor where Mr. Seaver was examining his Rolex with an almost amused impatience.
“Ah! There she is,” he announced happily as Gabriella appeared. “Thanks, Gert.”
Gert, the guard, nodded at Mr. Seaver, unlocking Gabriella’s cuffs before sauntering away down the hall. Gabriella noticed the guard swinging her hips as if hoping Cory Seaver was watching her ample bottom.