Finding Shayla

by M C Wilson

  “Whatever you want. The point is, you’ll be free.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Cayenne felt like a giant bowl of jelly. Her insides quivered and her legs were wobbly. But she couldn’t let Shayla see the effect she had on her. She was sure Shayla would hate Cayenne forever for arresting her. For taking her away from Chicago and her acting career. Cayenne shouldn’t care, but she did. Just being in Shayla’s presence again turned her to goo.

  “How long have you been in Chicago?” Cayenne had taken off Shayla’s handcuffs as they waited in the terminal.

  “Almost since I left Casa Grande. I stopped in Omaha to see my mom for a while, then drove to Chicago. It was only supposed to be a stop off, but I ran into a friend of mine and one thing led to another. And now, here I am with you again.”

  Cayenne wondered how much Shayla actually remembered of their night together. Did she remember the passionate kisses? Did she regret them? Could it be possible she’d want more?

  Cayenne needed to get a grip. Shayla was a prisoner. Granted she was a prisoner Cayenne wanted to set free. But she had to take her back to stand trial.

  “Explain more to me about this self-defense plea,” Shayla said.

  “Self-defense just means that you killed Robin to prevent harm to yourself. Which, I’m assuming, is what you did. I’m working under the assumption it wasn’t premeditated.”

  “It wasn’t. It was the spur of the moment. I couldn’t take anymore.”

  Shayla started crying and Cayenne, without thinking, pulled her into her arms. It felt so right to be holding her, but she maintained her professionalism to the best of her ability. She let herself feel the wash of emotions but wouldn’t let Shayla know.

  “I’ve thought of you often,” Shayla said. “And fondly.”

  Cayenne’s heart felt like it could beat out of her chest.

  “I’ve thought of you, too.” It came out gruffer than she’d intended.

  “I’m sure you have. When did you first realize it was me?”

  “As soon as you left. If you were innocent, you would have stayed behind. But you fled, so I knew you were guilty.”

  “I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you,” Shayla said quietly.

  “You haven’t. I can’t say I blame you. I mean, I don’t condone murder, but I get why you did it. I really don’t think you’ll go to prison. Though you’ll spend some time in our jail.”

  “You won’t let anyone hurt me in jail, will you, Cayenne?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Can’t I stay somewhere else? Your house maybe?”

  Cayenne’s stomach tightened. She’d like nothing more than to take Shayla to her house. To her bed. She needed to change her train of thought. Just then they announced they were boarding the plane back to Casa Grande. Phew. Not a moment too soon.

  They drove back to Lazu and Cayenne put Shayla in the cell. Doc was there when Cayenne brought her in.

  “Who’s the looker?” he said.

  “Shayla Gardner. Robin’s widow.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes. See if she’ll donate some DNA. I’m betting the blood from the couch was hers.”

  “You got it,” Doc said and walked down the hall to see Shayla.

  Meantime, Cayenne pulled up the case notes on the computer and jotted down what she knew. She noted where she’d arrested Shayla, that she’d come willingly, and that she’d been using an alias.

  Doc was back with a swab.

  “I’ve swabbed her cheek. I’ll compare the DNA now,” he said.

  “Coming with you,” Cayenne said.

  She waited impatiently while Doc compared the samples.

  “It’s a match,” Doc said.

  Cayenne couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face.

  “Thank you so much.”

  She took the stairs two at a time and headed down the hall. She found Shayla lying on the bench facing the wall.

  “Shayla?”

  “Hello again.”

  “We found your blood on the couch in your house. How did that happen?”

  “Robin was exceedingly pissed that day. I was wearing a dress, a new dress to try to please him. He said it was too short and that I looked like a whore. He hit me over and over in the stomach then pushed me onto the couch. Then he punched me in the nose. I’m surprised he didn’t break it. But I bled a lot. A ton, actually. He pulled me up by my hair and dragged me to the kitchen and told me to clean up the couch and said if I knew what was good for me, I’d make sure it didn’t stain.”

  Cayenne saw the tears in Shayla’s eyes.

  “Well, you’re lucky it did stain,” she said gently. “That should help your case.”

  The tears spilled out of Shayla’s eyes.

  “I’m scared, Cayenne.”

  “Sh. You’ll be okay. We’ll get you a good lawyer and you’ll get off. I’m sorry I had to bring you in, but it’s my job.”

  Shayla nodded.

  “I understand.”

  “I have work to do now,” said Cayenne. “I’ll just be down the hall if you need me.”

  “Thank you. For being so kind.”

  Without thinking, Cayenne winked at Shayla. It had seemed so natural, but she realized how wrong it was. She turned and hurried back to her desk.

  She’d been working on paperwork and was shocked when she looked up and saw a well-dressed man entering the station. He reeked of money.

  “May I help you?” Cayenne said.

  “My name is Kane. Franklin Kane. I’m a defense attorney from Chicago. I’m here to meet with a Shayla Gardner.”

  ***

  Shayla sat up when she saw Cayenne walking toward her with a strange man.

  “Shayla, this is Mr. Kane. He’s a defense attorney from Chicago. He wants to meet with you.”

  “Thank you for coming, Mr. Kane,” Shayla said.

  “I’d say it’s my pleasure, but it’s really not. This town is pathetic.”

  “Keep your opinions to yourself,” Cayenne said. She let him in the cell. “If you need anything, I’m right down the hall.”

  “First things first,” Mr. Kane said. “We need to establish an alibi. Where were you when your husband was killed?”

  “I was there,” Shayla said.

  “So you saw who did it? Please don’t tell me it was you.”

  “But it was. I killed him.”

  “You can’t admit that, Shayla. Not to me. Not to anybody.”

  “I already have,” Shayla said, then remembered what Cayenne had said. “It was self-defense.”

  Mr. Kane raised his eyebrows. Then quickly lowered them and let out his breath.

  “That’s so hard to prove,” he said.

  “He was a terrible, awful man. He did horrible things to me. He deserved to die. It was my only way out.”

  “Okay. Okay. Well, you’re going to need to tell me exactly what he did to you.”

  Shayla spent the next hour recounting her horrid existence with Robin. She sobbed and wretched as she told him every last detail. When she was through, she felt wrung out, thoroughly exhausted.

  “I don’t think I have any more in me,” she said. “Could you maybe come back tomorrow?”

  “I’m sorry,” Mr. Kane said. “I really am, but I need you to tell me what happened the day you killed him.”

  “Can I please do it tomorrow? I can’t think about him anymore right now.”

  Mr. Kane leveled hard, uncaring eyes at her but then softened his gaze.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll be back tomorrow to hear the rest.’

  He called for Cayenne, who came down the hall.

  “What can I do for you?” she said.

  “I need to go. We’ve talked all we can for today. By the way, my client plans on using a self-defense defense.”

  Cayenne smiled broadly.

  “Excellent. Let me know if there’s anything we can do to help. I do believe we have some evidence you’d like to hear about.”<
br />
  “What?” Mr. Kane sounded perplexed.

  “I want to see her get off as much as you do, Kane. Trust me on that.”

  “Unusual, but thanks. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  Cayenne let him out and sat in the cell with Shayla. Shayla knew she looked a fright.

  “Are you okay?” Cayenne said.

  Shayla took a deep breath.

  “I will be.”

  “If you need to cry some more, I have two good shoulders.”

  “Thank you, but I think I’m okay.” Then she buried her face in Cayenne’s shoulder and started sobbing again. She was embarrassed at her emotions but found herself relaxing as Cayenne wrapped her arms around her. When she’d cried herself out, she pushed away from Cayenne.

  “You must think I’m a flighty bimbo,” she said.

  “I think you’re anything but. I think Robin Gardner did a real number on your psyche and I’m bound and determined to fix the damage.”

  “But you don’t even know me.”

  “It’s true. I only met you that one night. But I’ll be honest. You touched something in me that night, Shayla. Something that hadn’t been touched in a very long time. I’d like to spend some time getting to know you.”

  “But we were both drunk. And I couldn’t even go through with it. I’m sure you thought I was a tease.”

  “It’s true we’d both had a lot to drink,” Cayenne said. “And I get why you wouldn’t let me touch you. It makes perfect sense. I just want you to know, I can be patient, Shayla. As patient as I need to be.”

  Shayla didn’t know what to say. She thought of Jazz back in Chicago. Would she wait for Shayla? She’d sent Mr. Kane to defend her. Did that mean she wanted Shayla to come back when the trial was finished?

  But Cayenne was here. Right now. At this moment. And when she held Shayla, something stirred deep inside. Something she hadn’t ever felt before. Not with Jazz and certainly not with Robin. She felt guilty, like she was cheating on Jazz. But was she?

  “When this is over,” Cayenne said. “And you’re free to go. Will you stay around here? Or go back to Chicago?”

  “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know right now.”

  Cayenne nodded slowly.

  “Well, unfortunately or fortunately, you’ll have plenty of time to think about that while you’re here. The only advice I can give you is to follow your heart.”

  Shayla was just about to ask what she meant when two attractive women came down the hall.

  “There you are, Cayenne,” one said.

  Cayenne stood.

  “Please, call me Sheriff when I’m working.”

  “Oh sorry, Sheriff. We were looking for you.”

  “What do you need?”

  “Will you come over for dinner tonight? Linda is making her famous chicken cacciatore.”

  “I can’t, Karen. But thank you.” Cayenne sounded annoyed. Shayla didn’t like the two women. She was jealous, though she couldn’t be sure why.

  “Your loss,” Linda said. “Maybe tomorrow?”

  “I’ll let you know,” Cayenne said.

  “Why don’t you get out of that cage and come to lunch with us?”

  “I’m working. I don’t have time to go to lunch.”

  The two women looked at Shayla. They each gave her a once over like she was a prized bull or something.

  “I bet you don’t,” Karen said.

  “Now if you two would please leave. The prisoner and I have things to talk about.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you do. Okay. We’ll leave. But we’ll be back.”

  “Who were they?” Shayla said after the women had walked away.

  “Nobody important. Just a lovely couple that want to make a sandwich out of me.” Cayenne laughed, but Shayla didn’t see the humor. She really disliked them, even more now. She didn’t try to fight the jealousy. She didn’t want Cayenne with them. She wanted Cayenne to herself.

  Where had that come from? She had no right to think or feel that way. Cayenne wasn’t hers. Jazz was hers. What happened in Lazu shouldn’t matter to her. Her life, her career was in Chicago.

  So why did her heart race and her palms sweat whenever Cayenne was near?

  “I should get back to work. I’ll send the guard out for lunch and we can eat together if you’d like?” Cayenne said.

  Shayla couldn’t fight the smile that spread across her face.

  “I’d like that very much. Thank you.”

  “So would I, Shayla. So would I.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Cayenne was standing outside Shayla’s cell talking to her when the bell on the front door rang.

  “Let me go see who that is,” she said.

  Shayla was left wondering more and more about Cayenne. She didn’t need to spend so much time with Shayla. Shayla was sure other prisoners didn’t get this treatment. But she wasn’t complaining. She really enjoyed Cayenne’s company. She loved talking to Cayenne, who seemed to really listen to her. And she couldn’t deny her response to the deep timbre of Cayenne’s voice.

  She heard footsteps coming her way and craned her neck to see Cayenne accompanying Mr. Kane.

  “Good morning, Shayla,” Mr. Kane said.

  “Hello.”

  “Are you ready to pick up where we left off?”

  Shayla gulped. “I suppose I am.”

  “I’ll leave you two alone then.” Cayenne locked the cell door behind Mr. Kane. “If either of you need me, you know where I am.”

  “How are you this morning?” Mr. Kane sat and opened his laptop.

  “I’m well thank you. And you?”

  “Ready to get your defense plan in place. So this morning you’re going to tell me everything about the day you killed your husband.”

  “Yes, sir.” She’d already started crying.

  “I know this is going to be hard for you,” he said. “But I need to know every last detail. I need to be able to make a case for you.”

  “I understand.”

  “I’m not going anywhere until you’ve finished. Don’t feel rushed. Just take your time, start from the beginning, and tell me what happened.”

  “It was a typical morning for us. I woke up, made coffee, and took a cup to Robin, who was still in bed. I set the cup on his nightstand and braced myself for what was coming. He grabbed me, threw me on the bed, and climbed on top of me. It hurt more than usual that day. It always hurt, but this time was excruciating, and I was fighting tears when he was through.

  He slapped me and told me not to cry. He said I was his property and I should be grateful he still wanted to fuck me after all these years. I got up and put on my robe while he showered and got ready for his day.”

  Shayla took a deep breath. Every day with Robin had been horrible, but he’d been in such a mood that day. He’d pushed her to the breaking point. And when she finally snapped? Well, he’d ended up dead. But that was later. She continued her story.

  “I fried him an egg and toasted him a bagel for his breakfast. He came out of the shower, sat down, and told me his egg was too hard. He threw it at me, and I ducked. He didn’t like that, so forced me onto my hands and knees and rubbed my face in the hot egg. He called me a worthless cunt and told me I’d better make the house spotless before he got home.

  He left for work then and I cleaned the kitchen. Then I put on a pair of shorts and an old T-shirt and started cleaning the house. I enjoyed cleaning the house. It gave me a sense of purpose. A sense of pride.”

  Shayla paused again. The hard part was coming. She braced herself.

  “Would you like a drink of water or something?” Mr. Kane said.

  “Yes, please.”

  “Sheriff,” he called. “Can you bring Mrs. Gardner some water?”

  Cayenne appeared a short time later with a pitcher of water and two glasses. She looked at Shayla and must not have liked what she saw.

  “Are you okay?” Cayenne said.

  Shayla nodded and accepted the water.


  “I’m just down the hall,” Cayenne said to her, seemingly forgetting that Mr. Kane was there.

  “You were cleaning the house,” Mr. Kane said.

  “Yes. It was the middle of the afternoon and I was dusting the mantle when I heard the front door open and saw Robin come storming in. He took one look at me and his eyes bulged. How dare I dress that provocatively. Was I fucking someone else? Had I cuckolded him? He’d show me who I belonged to. He went to tear my shirt off and I had had enough. I wrapped my hands around his throat and tried to strangle him. All that did was piss him off more. He backhanded me. Hard. And I spun against the mantle. Then I saw the knight. I grabbed it and while Robin tried to pull my shorts off, I hit him over the head. He fell to the floor and I kept hitting him. I didn’t stop even when I heard the crunch of crushed skull. Even when I saw his brain, I kept hitting. I wanted him deader than dead.”

  Shayla threw up in the toilet then turned to face Mr. Kane again.

  “I wanted him dead,” she sobbed.

  “I get that. And I can’t say I blame you. But I need you to go over the part where you hit him one more time. He was trying to get your shorts off?”

  “Yes. He was going to rape me again. And I was still sore from that morning. I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t let him do that again. Not even one more time.”

  ***

  Cayenne was seething. She knew it was wrong, but she stood just out of sight of the cell and listened to everything Shayla said. She was livid and wanted to kill Robin herself, even though he was already dead.

  She knew she’d violated the sanctity of attorney-client privilege, but she didn’t care. She’d needed to be there in case Shayla needed her. And she’d heard everything. So much more than she’d wanted. But now that she knew what had happened, she was even more determined to help Kane get Shayla off.

  Cayenne went back to her desk and pretended to busy herself with paperwork, but her mind wasn’t in it. She couldn’t unhear what Shayla had told Kane. She’d never be able to unhear that. No wonder Shayla hadn’t let Cayenne touch her intimately. Would she ever allow that? Cayenne hoped so. She wanted to be the one to help Shayla heal. If Shayla would allow it.

  She heard Kane call her and steeled herself to walk down the hall and not let on that she’d been eavesdropping.