Falling Fast (Falling Fast #1) (16 page)

“Mia? What’s going on there?”

Her father’s voice pulled her from the sight of the door closing behind Raleigh. “They just arrested Raleigh.” She ran to the window and watched the cruiser disappearing down the gravel road.

“What?”

“I have to go.”

“No, wait! Mia, tell us what’s going on. What was he arrested for?”

She had to force out the word. “Murder.”

“What?”
Her mother, in the background.

“We’ll be right over.” Her father disconnected.

Mia really didn’t need their presence right then, but they were coming anyway. She dialed the first number Raleigh had written down.

“Rose, it’s Mia. Raleigh wanted me to call you. They found a body in a truck in the lake at George’s property. It’s…it’s Cody’s dad.”

“Oh, God.”

“And they just arrested Raleigh for his murder.”

“Oh, God,”
Rose said again. “No.”

“I’m working on hiring an attorney. He’s going to be all right. He wanted you to hear it from us first. Look, I have to go.”

She looked up Grace Parnell’s number. It was only as the phone was ringing that she realized the office wouldn’t be open yet. The outgoing message, though, gave an emergency number. Grace was, after all, a criminal-defense attorney. It took Mia a couple of minutes to get her on the line, and then everything came out in an avalanche.

“Raleigh West?” Grace said when Mia had finished. “I’m not sure I know him.”

“He’s lived here his whole life. He works over at Peter’s Garage.”

“Oh, wait a minute. Good-looking, tall, mid-twenties?”

“Yes.” And so much more. “He’s a good man, Ms. Parnell. Tender and gentle and loving and…” Her voice caught in her throat. “He wouldn’t kill anyone.”

“He’s a good mechanic, that I know. He always fixes my car’s problem, explains it in a way I can understand without being condescending, and he’s honest. Why don’t you come by my office in thirty minutes, Ms. Wentworth? I’ll call the sheriff’s office and find out when he’s being arraigned.”

“Thank you!” Mia called the garage next and spilled the news as soon as Raleigh’s boss answered.

“That’s crazy! Raleigh wouldn’t hurt a fly. Well, he would hurt a fly. He’s a master with the fly swatter—”

“Sir, I want to start a fund to help with the legal fees.”

“I hear she’s good, and she charges for it. See Marta over at Chambliss Bank. She can set up a fund. I’ll spread the word.”

The bank wouldn’t open for another hour. Mia wasn’t the least bit hungry—the thought of food turned her stomach—but she knew that if she didn’t eat something her blood sugar would drop later. And she would need all her strength and wits to get through the day.

The moment she slathered peanut butter on a piece of toast, her parents barged in.

“I knew that boy was trouble,” her mother said, pointing to her father. “
You
wanted to believe in him, but I knew—”

“Shut up,” he snapped, shocking Mia. Her father was all business as he assessed her. “Are you all right? They didn’t question you, did they?”

“No. This has nothing to do with me. And it doesn’t have anything to do with Raleigh, either, other than it’s his father whose body they found. And it was found near Raleigh’s cabin.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” he said.

No, it didn’t. “But they don’t have a motive. Why would a man kill his own father? The man was a drunk and a lousy provider, which is why Raleigh hasn’t lived with him since he was fifteen. Why would he kill him all these years later?”

“People do things that don’t always make sense,” he said.

“Like you being so attached to this boy,” her mother muttered, turning away.

Mia had to fight not to mirror her father’s raw order. “He’s not a boy any more than I’m a girl. We’re adults. And he’s innocent.”

“Mia, I think you’re in over your head here,” her father said. “If he goes down, you’re going with him. Not legally, but emotionally and in reputation. And you have your job to consider.”

“I’m not leaving Raleigh.”

“What if he’s guilty?” Not her mother’s emotional, angry words but her father’s logical, calm ones.

“He’s not.”

“You don’t know him all that well. You might think you do, but you don’t. What, two months over a summer seven years ago? When he was committing illegal acts. And two weeks now? You can’t base major life decisions on a shaky foundation. I know you think you love him, but could it be that you’re
in
love with him?”

“I’m both. And if you knew Raleigh the way I do you would understand why I know he would never murder anyone. I have to go to the bank and ask a lady who knows Raleigh to set up a legal fund. I already have an attorney on call. I need to go.”

Her father placed his hand on her shoulder. “We’re scheduled to return home this morning. We can stay if you want us to. I don’t want you dealing with this alone.”

“But we can’t stay,” her mother said. “
We’ll
be dragged into this mess.” She glared at Mia. “You have put us through so much already. Walk away, come back to Minneapolis and start your job. Don’t do this to us.”

“To
you
? Don’t do this to you? So I’m supposed to walk away from a man I love, who I know is innocent, so you’ll feel better?”

“What do you know about love?”

“What do you know about it, Mother? Did your heart ever implode when Father was on a trip or when he had to extend his stay? Did it jump at the thought of seeing him again? Do you hunger for his touch? For the comfort of his arms around you, or a gentle kiss on your temple? Do you really know what it’s like to love someone so deeply that you ache from it?” She let out a breath as she studied their expressions. “I didn’t think so.”

They both merely stared at her.

“I’m sorry,” Mia said quietly. “But you can’t possibly understand what I feel for Raleigh, because you’ve never experienced it. Or maybe you did but lost it long ago. I love him. And you saw something in him, didn’t you, Father? You said you wanted to apologize.”

Her father nodded slowly. “He’s a hardworking young man. Who loves you very much. I tested him, questioned him, and he passed. But a murder charge is a much bigger issue, Mia. We just don’t want you hurt.”

“Sometimes you have to take risks for things—or people—who are important to you. And, yes, I may get hurt and stressed, but Raleigh is worth the risk. Go on home. I’m a grown-up, as I said. I can handle this.”

“I don’t like leaving you to deal with this alone,” her father said.

“I’m not alone. I have people here to help.” And they would be more helpful than her parents, but she wasn’t going to say that.

The door burst open, and Rose rushed inside. Running over and grabbing Mia’s hands, she probably didn’t even notice Mia’s parents. “Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod! Tell me what happened, everything they said.”

“This is someone who’s going to help?” Mia heard her father mutter.

Mia turned Rose toward her parents. “This is my mother and my father. Rose has known Raleigh since he was fifteen. Rose, tell them that Raleigh would never kill his father.”

Rose made a hoarse laugh-cry sound. “Never. He’s taken care of me and Cody—that’s his half brother—for the last few years. Been more of a dad to Cody than his own dad. Protected him. And now…” Rose broke down.

Mia waved her parents off as she held Rose. “Go. I’ll keep in touch. And, yes, I’ll be okay. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?” She would know. If she overcame cancer, and the effects of the crash, she would overcome this. It scared her, but it wouldn’t beat her down.

“You’re right, though. Look at you.” A proud half smile crossed her father’s face. “Look at our little girl, Marie. She’s not little anymore. Not a girl.”

Her mother’s mouth twitched with a rebuttal as she took in Mia comforting Rose. Then she spun around and stalked out.

Her father sent her a disgusted look before turning back to Mia. “Call if you need us.” Then he followed his wife out, resignation clear in his shoulders.

She felt a new love and respect for him. Especially when he gave her a reassuring smile before closing the door.

Mia turned to Rose. “I need you to calm down. I don’t know much right now, but I’m heading out to see an attorney who’s going to help us. Stay here, okay? I’ll be back in a bit. Hopefully, with Raleigh.”

She grabbed her purse and headed to her car. Twenty minutes later, she was opening the carved wooden door leading into the Parnell Law Firm. No one sat at the mahogany desk, but a female voice called out “Ms. Wentworth?” from the hallway.

“Yes.”

The woman who came out was tall, full-figured, and probably in her thirties. She gave Mia a firm handshake. “I’m Grace. Please, come back.”

“Call me Mia, please.”

She was much prettier than Mia had imagined, but everything about her screamed competent, all-business, classy, and tenacious. Grace’s linen pants swished as she walked unerringly down the hall in five-inch heels. Her long brown hair fell in shiny waves halfway down her back.

They sat at a richly appointed wood table in a conference room. Grace already had a folder with Raleigh’s name on it. “Raleigh is being booked now. I’m pressing the right to a ‘speedy trial,’ and the prosecutor promises to decide on charges within a couple of hours. Then he’ll be arraigned, and hopefully given bail. He’s not a flight risk, nor is he a danger to himself or others.” She flipped her wrist to check a gold-and-diamond watch. “I should be able to meet with him in twenty minutes, then I’ll be present during
interrogation.”

“Interrogation,”
Mia repeated. “I imagine a light glaring into his face, hours of grueling questioning.”

“It won’t be like that, not with me there.” She pushed a sheaf of papers at Mia. “My retainer is twenty thousand.” She went down the list of hourly rates and typical court costs as Mia caught her breath. “Is that acceptable?”

“Yes.” Mia pulled out a checkbook and wrote the check. “I’m going to see about starting a legal fund.”

“That’s a great idea. Now, tell me how you’re involved in this.”

Mia gave her a synopsis of their earlier relationship, including Raleigh’s racing conviction.

Grace frowned as she jotted that down. “That’s not good. On the upside, it has nothing to do with the kind of violent charge he’s facing now.” She sat back in her chair. “Go on.”

Mia finished with their present-day situation, leaving out the more intimate details.

“Aw, that’s damned sweet,” Grace said, making one last note. “Sad, but sweet. You two have some pretty shitty luck.” Now fully engaged, she seemed to let her southern, er, slang slip into her voice.

“Shitty luck about sums it up.” Mia was beginning to feel a bone-deep weariness at fate kicking her in the ribs.

“Let me tell you what we’re up against. Sullivan has a propensity to home in on a target and stick like a tick. Given his personal history with Raleigh, I’m going to push the state attorney for a change of venue. But don’t count on that happening, since it doesn’t sound like there’s any proof of this supposed affair between the sheriff’s wife and Raleigh’s father. Right now they have two connections between suspect and victim. It’s enough to charge him, but it may not be enough to push it to trial.”

“If it does go that far, is that enough to convict him?”

“Depends on the jury. And, as you probably know if you watch the news, juries are unpredictable beasts. Locals may remember the crash. They may judge him because of his background.”

The churning in Mia’s gut reminded her of when she was battling cancer. The what-ifs. The possible outcomes and the effort it would take to achieve a good one.

Grace pushed to her feet. “I’m heading over. You work on the fund. I’ll call you later.” She led Mia to the front door but paused. “There’s one aspect of this case that’s real ugly. If you’re going to stand by your man, you’d better know what it is. Because once it gets out people are either going to side with Raleigh or think he’s a monster.”

Grace Parnell apparently had some sway in moving the proceedings along quickly. Raleigh only knew her as a customer at the garage. She had one of the last T-Bird model years, a light blue convertible she called Birdie. Whenever she picked it up, she always asked him what he’d done, musing that if she ever had time she was going to learn to service her own car. “Nothing personal,” she’d say. “It’s a control thing.”

Imagining the classy lady in a skirt suit digging around in the engine seemed odd, but apparently she’d been pretty wild in her day. At least, from what Raleigh had heard. She’d graduated long before him and gone off to college, so he hadn’t really known her.

“Your lawyer is here,” Cassidy said, unlocking the cell he’d gleefully placed Raleigh in after the humiliation of being photographed for his mug shot and
fingerprinted…again.
Even more gleefully, he dangled the cuffs. “Remember that she lost her last case, the guy who was convicted of murdering his wife with a baseball bat. So don’t go getting cocky and thinking a fine piece of ass is going to save yours.”

“Don’t talk about a lady like that.”

Cassidy tapped his chin. “Gonna make me stop?”

“When are you going to stop being a dick? You’ve spent your whole life trying to prove yourself, but all you’ve ever confirmed is that you’re a dick. Now you think you’re even better, stronger, smarter because you wear a uniform. But you’re still that same pitiful skinny boy bullying everybody else to make himself feel bigger.”

His face turned scarlet. “Shut up.”

“Like insulting the woman you caused to be scarred. That was low and despicable, and if you ever say something like that to her when you’re not in your uniform I will break your nose.”

“Try it.”

Raleigh chuckled. “You’re tough now because your uniform protects you in here. Let’s discuss it on your free time and see how tough and bad you are.”

Cassidy moved his mouth as his pea brain tried to come up with a retort.

Raleigh continued before he could. “Just because you don’t have a record doesn’t mean your soul is clean. Your arrogance caused a major crash. Severely injured me and another woman. Destroyed our cars. Our lives. You might have gotten that struck from your record on account of you being six months from eighteen, but you don’t get it cleared from your conscience. That stays for life until you make it right.” Raleigh spotted one of the jail’s officers watching the scene a few feet away, but he didn’t give away the man’s presence. “Pointing out the scars on a woman you caused to be burned, well, that isn’t going in the right direction, now, is it?”

Cassidy’s face contorted with rage. “Why don’t you put your fist where your mouth is, you scumbag trailer trash—”

“Because the truth hurts a lot more than my fists would.” He patted Cassidy’s chest. “Doesn’t it?”

Shit, Cassidy was about to blow a gasket. His eyes bulged, fingers flexing. He lunged forward, fist driving toward Raleigh’s face. The moment before it would connect, Cassidy fell back. Helped, Raleigh saw, by the officer who’d jerked him backward.

“What in the hell are you doing?” he demanded of Cassidy, an inch from his face.

“The prisoner was harassing me. Threatening me.”

“I keep telling Sullivan that you’re going to cause us trouble someday with your jacked-up attitude.” He nodded his chin toward the surveillance camera mounted on the wall. “I think he feels sorry for you. But I will be showing him this little scene, and I will ask him to fire you. Because I will not have a lawsuit against my jail.” He gave Cassidy a shove out of the way and looked at Raleigh. “I’ll be happy to escort you to meet your attorney.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The man, who was older than Sullivan, didn’t cuff Raleigh, simply gesturing for him to precede him. Raleigh glimpsed the word “Captain” on his nametag. Cassidy’s face was even redder now, and he spun around and pounded on the orange bars, then pulled back with a hiss.

“You’re gonna fry, West,” he muttered between clenched teeth, rubbing his knuckles.

“And Grace Parnell didn’t lose that case,” Raleigh said as they walked away. “She got him to take a plea deal.”

The captain chuckled under his breath. “Instigator.”

“I know, but the guy’s a bonehead.”

“That he is.”

He led Raleigh from the jail into the main building and to a small room with a table and three chairs. Grace Parnell was typing on her cellphone when the door opened. She stuffed the phone into her jacket pocket and shook Raleigh’s hand. “I’d say good to see you, and you’d say the same, but that isn’t true in these circumstances. No need to bullshit each other, right?”

Yeah, she was going to be a good attorney. “Right.”

Her grip was firm and confident, something she’d no doubt had to perfect dealing with the good-ol’-boy mentality here in Chambliss. Her height—around five-ten—probably helped.

“Thanks for accepting my case.”

“You’ve taken good care of my Birdie. And, frankly, this stinks like a pile of dog shit.”

He smiled despite himself. “That it does,” he said, mirroring the captain’s sly agreement.

Grace looked demure, but she had the mouth of the girl who’d grown up in this smallish town. He wondered if she would bring up the time he and Pax ran into her at the Love Shack in Panama City Beach. They had seen a whole other side of her…or maybe it was an old side. Sitting on the bar shooting back tequila with some beefy guy, in tight black jeans and a low-cut shirt that made her a wet dream. Until they went up and said hey. She’d shut right down, clearly uncomfortable with seeing someone she knew. Within fifteen minutes, she’d left.

He and Pax figured she was trolling the out-of-town bar scene for the same reason they were—to let loose where no one knew them. Where many of the bar patrons were just visiting. Fun times, no ties. But Grace had a reputation to consider.

Now she was the picture of competence and
professionalism.
She gestured toward the table and, as soon as they were seated across from each other, said, “Tell me everything about the last few months before your deadbeat dad went missing.”

He told her almost everything. Not the potentially incriminating part that would reveal painful secrets. One of those secrets wasn’t his to reveal anyway.

Grace took notes, her glossy peach fingertips flying over her tablet. “Ready to talk to the sheriff?”

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I did it?”

She eyed him. “Did you?”

“No.”

“I have a good feel for telling who’s innocent.”

“What about the guy who beat his wife to death with a baseball bat? Did you think he was innocent at first?”

“I knew better. I told him so, said I couldn’t represent him. But I could negotiate a plea deal if he confessed. Life in prison instead of the chair. He took it.”

“You ever been wrong?”

A shadow passed over her expression as her gaze drifted to the right of him. “Once. Early on in my career, when I let my prejudices blind me.” She focused a hard gaze on him. “Never again.”

The officer led them to the interrogation room, where Sheriff Sullivan waited like a shark. “Ms. Parnell.”

“Sullivan.”

“Is your client ready to answer some questions now that he has his guard dog?”

She arched her eyebrow. “Woof.”

Raleigh had to keep himself from laughing. Yes, she was the perfect attorney for him.

Sullivan blinked in surprise at her response. “What did you say to me?”

She gave him a guileless smile. “I cleared my throat. Got a problem with that?”

He jerked the chair out and plopped down onto it. Grace indicated that Raleigh should take the chair next to hers. They sat down and faced Sullivan and another deputy who was standing off to the side.

Sullivan pinned Raleigh with cold, hard eyes. “Did you kill your father?”

“No, sir. I haven’t seen him in over a year, and he was very much alive the last time I did.”

“When was that?”

“About two months before he left town…or disappeared, as it turned out. He needed to borrow my car. He returned it that evening, handed me a six-pack in thanks, even though he knows I don’t drink, and left. Rose picked him up.”

“Yeah, we’re tracking her down, too. Being Hank’s ex-wife, I bet she has plenty to say about him. Apparently, she has a lawn-care business, puts her all over the place. Saw her kid at Scott Brady’s working on a fence, but he didn’t know where his mama was.”

Hell, he hadn’t even thought about them questioning her. Suspecting her. “She couldn’t have done it. She weighs barely a hundred pounds. No way could she overpower someone the size of my father. She and my dad hadn’t lived together, or been involved, for three years before he left. Or was killed.” Raleigh rubbed his forehead. “That’s hard to process. He was always taking off, saying he had some job in another town or state. We just figured he’d stayed there, or kept moving on.”

“Made it convenient for you—”

“As convenient as it is for you to pin this on my client,” Grace growled.

“Made it convenient for the killer to cover his tracks, let time pass. No one was even looking for Hank West.”

Raleigh shrugged. “No one would probably be looking for him anyway. He had no steady job or romantic relationship, as far as I know.”

Sullivan’s mouth tightened. “You didn’t take after him in that regard,” he seemed to admit begrudgingly. “Or with the womanizing, hitting the bars.”

“I’m nothing like my dad.” Raleigh hoped he hadn’t said that too forcefully.

“Do you know of anyone who might want to kill your father? Anyone he owed money? A girl he stole, wife he nailed?”

“Other than yours?”

“What did you say?” the man nearly barked.

Raleigh drummed his fingers on the table. “I suspected there was something between them, years ago. Before you told Pax not to bring me around anymore.”

“There was nothing going on. I just didn’t want your bad influence around my kid, and I sure as hell didn’t want your good-for-nothing, thieving dad on my property. But that was a long time ago. I’m asking about recent affairs.”

“I made it a point to stay out of his business.”

“So you didn’t get along?”

Yeah, Sullivan was definitely homing in on him. “We were what you’d call estranged. We had very little interaction. But if you’re asking if I’m angry at him, or had some beef with him, no.”

That was a lie, but Raleigh’s beef had faded into the past. “Rose didn’t either. He didn’t live up to his financial obligations as far as their son was concerned, but killing him wouldn’t help much in that regard.”

“Rose isn’t a suspect, so you can stop trying to cover for her. We’re merely looking for her to gather information.”

To gather something incriminating against Raleigh.

Sullivan opened a folder and pulled out several pictures, laying them out on the table. Pictures of the truck under the murky water as it had been found. A skeleton wearing the remnants of clothing, a small fish swimming inside the rib cage. Close-up shots showed gashes in the old bones.

Raleigh’s stomach churned. So that was how his dad’s life had ended.

Sullivan had been studying his reaction to the pictures, probably hoping to see guilt. Well, he didn’t get what he wanted.

“We’re dredging the lake for the weapon. If it’s out there, we’ll find it. Maybe with fingerprints. People tend to think water erases evidence.” He grinned, showing the gap between his front teeth. “They’re wrong.”

“I hope you find it, because my fingerprints aren’t on the handle.”

Sullivan pointed to the close-up pictures. “See all those kerf marks on the skeleton’s bones? His ribs, face, hands, which are indicative of defense wounds. Someone stabbed him over and over with a large knife. That’s a lot of rage. Rage equals personal.”

Grace pointed to the pictures. “You have nothing here to charge my client with. I want the charges dropped.”

“The truck was found within a quarter mile of your client’s abode. Your client had a hostile relationship with the deceased.”

“Estranged,” Raleigh clarified.

“We have a witness who claims he saw you arguing with your father in the month prior to his death.”

Raleigh searched his memory. When his dad had tried to hit him up for a “loan” at the diner. “He asked me for money, and I told him to bite me. I was done giving him so-called loans. He called me ungrateful and a lot of other nasty names and stomped out. No argument.”

Sullivan wrote that down. “Sounds like an argument to me.”

“You know that won’t fly in court,” Grace said, her eyes narrowed at the sheriff. “You’re trying to build a case based on your own personal bias of the suspect.”

“Hell, I don’t much like the victim, either, but I’m doing my job. Are you accusing me of prejudice?”

“Yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I know you, Sheriff. I’ve seen you tie the most tenuous evidence together to run down someone.” She ticked several names off her fingers, some Raleigh had heard.

“And some of them were convicted by a jury of their peers,” Sullivan said, mirroring her earlier pose. “Based on the evidence, witness statements.”

“Statements I understand you coerced. Something you’re good at.” Anger burned in her brown eyes. “One day that’s going to catch up to you. And when it does, don’t come to me for
representation.”

The sheriff leaned back in his chair, signifying that he wasn’t taking her threat seriously. “Doubtful, Ms. Parnell.”

Coerced witness statements? Raleigh’s stomach tightened into a stone. He’d heard about local trials where the defendant was convicted based solely on eyewitness statements, shaky ones at that. Sullivan had a relationship, proximity, and was trying to string together a motive.

“You abuse your power, Sheriff.” Hatred burned in Grace’s eyes, reminding Raleigh of the kind of rage that precipitated the attack on his father.
Whoa!

Sullivan laughed, the sound harsh. “I’m still going for first-degree murder. Unless your client wants to enlighten me as to what really happened. Maybe it was second-degree murder or voluntary manslaughter. But until I have more facts I have to go on my gut.”