Thirty-Five and a Half Conspiracies (2 page)

He released a sigh and picked up his pen, twirling it in his hand. “How about we go at this another way?”

“And which way is that?”

He stopped to ponder his words for a moment, then said, “I have a client who keeps me on retainer. We have an … understanding.”

I sat up in my chair. He was talking about Skeeter.

“I take the cases he requests that I represent. Some seem hopeless—not as hopeless as this one, mind you,” he said with an ornery grin. “But hopeless nonetheless.”

I wanted to reach over and slug him, but I suspected that wouldn’t help my situation.

“I’m very good at what I do, Ms. Gardner, a trait that has earned your boyfriend’s dislike—and that’s putting it mildly. But sometimes even I can’t make the law work the way I need it to.”

I leaned forward and rested my hand on the table. “Mason’s been workin’ on finding something to use against J.R. Simmons. If he finds it, that should help, right?”

“It depends on what he finds and how quickly your case goes to trial. Once you’re convicted, it’ll be a helluva lot harder to get you out. But every piece of information will help, and my client seems determined to do everything in his power to keep you protected.” His eyes narrowed and a grin tugged at his lips. “And that has me very curious. Why’s he so interested in keepin’ you out of jail?”

I kept my mouth shut.

He grinned. “Not to worry. I was always good at puzzles. And I’ve already got this one mostly figured out.”

“Then I guess you don’t need anything else from me,” I grumbled.

Carter sat up and slid his notebook back in front of him. “Since we seem to have everything else wrapped up, how about we move on to personal matters? Any messages you want to give to your family? I doubt anyone will be able to see you until Monday at your arraignment.”

“What about Mason?”

“
Especially
not Mason.” When I shot him an angry glare, he lifted his hands in defense. “Not my rules. Your boyfriend could be Charles Manson for all I care. We love who we love.” He didn’t sound too happy about the last part. “But if they went to the trouble of kicking him out of his position, I suspect they won’t want him communicating with you.”

“But I can see him on Monday at my arraignment?” When he nodded, I asked, “So what happens after my arraignment? Will they put me back in jail?”

He grimaced. “It depends on if they give you bail. With a case as hopeless as this one, Simmons and the judge who’s handling the arraignment are probably worried you’re a flight risk. But I’ll assure them you’re a productive member of society—that you’ve sunk all your money into your businesses and are dedicated to making them work.”

“How do you know all of that?”

He rolled his eyes. “Rose Gardner, owner of RBW Landscaping, has an office right across the square from mine.”

My face burned with embarrassment. Yes, of course he knew. Neely Kate and I had practically barged into his office the other day while we were trying to duck one of Skeeter’s guys.

“In the arraignment, I’ll do all the speaking on your behalf, including entering your plea.”

“You are going to plead innocent, aren’t you?”

His gaze held mine. “If I pled guilty—even if you asked me to do it—I suspect I’d face repercussions that would haunt me to my dying breath, which would no doubt be much sooner than I’d like.” His mouth twisted into a condescending smile. “So the answer to your question is yes, I will be pleading innocent.”

I nodded. I wasn’t sure where his sudden hostility had come from, but if he really was the only one willing to take my case, I couldn’t afford to alienate him.

“So,” he drawled, tapping his pen on the tablet. “Any messages?”

I had more messages in my head than he had paper to write them down on, but I felt awkward about sharing my soul with Carter. Especially after his latest display. “Could you please tell Mason not to worry? That I’m okay.”

He nodded.

I shifted in my seat, worried about the next one. “I need you to give Neely Kate a message too.” I paused. “But it must remain completely confidential, even from Mason. Can you assure me of that?”

His eyebrows lifted, but he nodded. “Yes.”

“Ask her if she’ll make sure my closet is clean.”

His head cocked to the side, and his eyes narrowed with curiosity. “Most women aren’t concerned about housekeeping when they’re sitting in jail for murder.”

I shrugged. “Call me a neat freak, just make sure she gets the message. Do you need her number?”

He gave me a half-grin. “No. She put her number in my speed dial and told me to call her after I saw you.”

That caught me by surprise. “When did you see her?”

“Right before I came here to see you.” He grimaced and absently rubbed his arm. “She can be
very
persuasive.”

I couldn’t help grinning, but the smile slipped off my face when I realized a hard truth: Carter was about to walk out of this room, which meant I was going back to that jail cell. Where I’d sit for the next sixty hours or so. If Janie didn’t decide to add to her sentence by murdering me.

“Any more messages?”

I shook my head.

“Chin up, Rose Gardner. You’ve got people in your corner, me included. And you don’t have to worry about Janie Parsons beatin’ the shit out of you. You’ll be gettin’ your own cell when you walk out of here.”

My head jerked up. “What? Why?”

“Let’s just say I used my own powers of persuasion to convince them your safety was at risk given your personal connections and your past with Crocker.” He winked, then stood. “I confess, you’ve piqued my curiosity for some time, Rose Gardner. I’m looking forward to peekin’ behind the curtain.” He walked to the door and rapped with his knuckles. The door opened seconds later. Carter glanced back at me with a grin. “See you Monday morning.”

It was gonna be a long weekend.

O
n Monday morning
, my stomach cramped as the sheriff cruiser that was transporting me pulled up to the side entrance of the Fenton County courthouse. Deputy Randy Miller opened the back door, took one look at me, and frowned at the driver.

“Shackles, Abbie Lee?” he asked in disbelief. “Is that really necessary?”

Deputy Hoffstetter shot him a glare. “I wouldn’t be surprised if her blonde bimbo friend showed up and tried to make a break for it with ’er.”

In all honesty, I wouldn’t have been too surprised by that either. And after all the evasion maneuvers we performed the day of the fire at Gems, the strip club Neely Kate’s cousin had worked at and disappeared from, I wasn’t all that surprised Deputy Hoffstetter was being so cautious.

Deputy Miller’s face reddened. “Well, I’m not walking her in like this, so hand over the key.”

“She’ll take advantage of ya, Miller.”

He searched my eyes. “Rose, if I take these shackles off, are you gonna make a break for it?”

I shook my head. “Not only would it be a foolish move, I think you’re fast enough to have me recaptured in less than five seconds.”

He gave me a grin, but his statement was addressed to the redheaded deputy in the driver’s seat. “There you have it. Give me the key.”

She started to protest until the usually mild-mannered deputy gave her a look that would have curled paint. Grumbling, she handed it over, and he squatted next to me, unlocking the wrist and ankle shackles.

When he stood, he reached down and gently took my arm and tugged me out.

“You better put cuffs on her!” Deputy Hoffstetter yelled as Deputy Miller started to lead me through the side entrance—handcuff-free.

He slowed his steps as the cruiser pulled away. “Mr. Deveraux’s inside waiting for you. I’ve arranged for him to meet you in the elevator before you go into court.”

My stomach fluttered with nerves. “How’s he doin’?”

“Honestly, Rose, not that great. I think seein’ you will help.”

He took me through security, then stopped in front of an elevator bank at the rear of the building I hadn’t even known existed. When the doors opened, Mason was waiting in the elevator car. I lunged for him, and he pulled me against his chest, his arms holding me close. “Rose.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face into his chest as I fought to keep from crying. “I’ve missed you.”

Deputy Miller followed us into the elevator, and the doors closed behind us. “I can stall the elevator a minute, tops,” the deputy said. “Then they’ll get suspicious.” He edged into the corner, though, intent on giving us a little privacy while we could have it.

Mason leaned back and cupped my face with both hands, staring deep into my eyes. “Carter said there was an incident in the holding cell, but he got you into solitary. Are you okay?”

I nodded, placing my hands over his. “I’m fine. Nothing happened. How are
you
doin’? You don’t look so good.” His face was pale and drawn, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

He laughed as tears filled his eyes. “Sweetheart, don’t worry about me. I’m fine. You’re all I’m worried about. I’m working to get you out of this.” His voice broke. “I’m so sorry.”

I grabbed his face. “This is not your fault. Carter’s gonna get me out on bail, then we’ll work on bringing J.R. down.”

“Rose,” he said, sounding desperate. “I’m not sure they’re going to let you post bail.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded. I needed to prepare myself for that possibility. “Then
you’ll
have to bring him down.”

He lowered his mouth to mine, kissing me with a mixture of longing and guilt.

I kissed him back, trying to commit his lips to memory since I had no idea if I’d ever be a free woman again.

Oh, God. What if I never got out?

I took a step back and tried to catch my breath. Claustrophobia had been a long-time friend since childhood. When I was a little girl, Momma used to lock me in a closet for having visions, but with my newfound independence I hadn’t had an attack in months. However, the thought of being locked up for the rest of my life slammed into me hard, knocking the air from my lungs.

“Rose?” Mason asked, alarm in his eyes.

I held up my hands, gasping for breath, and backed up until my butt rested against the handrail.

Mason bent his knees so his face was level with mine. “Rose, it’s going to be okay. I promise you. Do you trust me?”

Mason wouldn’t rest until he made sure I was safe. I nodded, tears streaming down my face. I gulped in greedy amounts of air and felt myself calming down.

Deputy Miller looked at the control panel and grimaced. “I’m gonna have to press the floor button. They’re waiting for us.”

I nodded, then stood up straighter as Deputy Miller pressed the button for the third floor. Mason cautiously reached for me, and I fell into him, letting him wrap me up in his arms.

He kissed the top of my head. “I’ve failed you. I’m so sorry.”

I shook my head, wishing I could stay here in this elevator with him forever. But I had to meet my fate, all while poor Mason racked himself with guilt for something over which he had no control.

How could one evil man destroy so many lives?

“This is
not
your fault, Mason. It’s J.R. Simmons’ fault.” I looked up at him. “We have to stop him. You know I’m not the only person he’s trying to destroy. He stole your job from you and he …” My voice trailed off as I realized I had almost told him I was sure J.R. had framed Skeeter.

The elevator saved me, the doors opening on the third floor.

Worry filled Mason’s eyes. “I love you, Rose. I’m not giving up.”

“I know. And I love you too.” I gave him one last kiss before pulling loose and wiping my cheeks. Deputy Miller grabbed my arm, making a pretense of dragging me to the courtroom down the hall.

I wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted me—my friends were all gathered in the hall, waiting for me.

Neely Kate stood next to Mason’s mother, Maeve, and my landscaping business partner, Bruce Wayne. The second my best friend caught sight of me, she ran toward me, nearly tackling me when she threw her arms around my back. “Rose. He won’t get away with this.”

I pulled back and looked her in the face. I had never told her about J.R.’s threats—how did she know?

Reading my confusion, she said, “Mason told me, Bruce Wayne, Jonah, and Maeve about J.R. Simmons, your birth mother’s journal, and everything about Hattie,” she whispered. Then, with narrowed eyes, she added, “We’ll deal with
both
Simmons men.”

I couldn’t think about Joe and how he’d let Deputy Hoffstetter humiliate me, let alone the fact that he’d had me arrested in the first place. And stole the book of evidence my birth mother had died trying to bring to light—a book that would have helped implicate J.R. Simmons. He’d betrayed me in every way.

I wasn’t sure I could ever forgive him for any of it. Not that Joe was asking for forgiveness.

I forced a smile. “They won’t know what hit ’em when we get done with them.”

“Yeah.”

As I walked toward the small group, Bruce Wayne started to offer me his hand to shake, but I pulled him into a hug instead.

He patted my back awkwardly. “You did everything in your power to clear my name when I was accused of a murder I didn’t commit, and I’m gonna do the same for you.”

“Thanks, Bruce Wayne. But don’t you be getting into trouble.” Bruce Wayne had survived multiple scrapes with the law in the past. He was on the straight and narrow path now. I could never live with myself if he got himself back into the crime world because of me.

Maeve was next and she offered me a warm smile and a hug. “Don’t you worry, Rose. I’m taking good care of Muffy.”

“Muffy’s with you?” I’d been worried about my little dog, but I’d presumed that Mason would take care of her since he lived with me out at my farm.

“Mason’s been busy with his project. And I’m more worried than ever.”

I sucked in a breath and searched her eyes. “The
feeling
you told me about?”

She nodded. “It’s all happening soon.”

The previous week she had confessed that she had strong feelings or premonitions that often came to pass. While she didn’t know I was helping Skeeter as the Lady in Black, she
did
know I was up to something. She’d given me her blessing. Especially since she had a strong feeling that Mason and someone else she didn’t know were in danger. She wasn’t sure how they were tied together, but she was convinced I was the only one who could save them.

That scared the bejiggers out of me. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m locked up.”

She gave me a tight smile. “Hopefully you’ll get out soon.”

Lordy, I couldn’t argue with that.

“Any feelings tell you that?” I asked wistfully.

“Just an old woman’s fervent prayer.”

More people waited behind her. Jonah Pruitt, my friend and the minister of the New Living Hope Revival Church, was there with his new girlfriend and church secretary, Jessica. My sister, Violet, waited behind them.

I quickly greeted Jonah and Jessica and moved on to Violet.

My older sister and I hadn’t gotten along very well over the last several months, but we were sisters—whether we shared blood or not—and we stuck together in the tough times. I was relieved to see that she still believed that.

The look she gave me was so pathetic that I grabbed her hands in mine and gave them a little shake. “Don’t you be worried, Violet. I’m gonna go into that courtroom and Carter Hale’s gonna get me out on bail.”

She nodded, her chin quivering. Her eyes were red and swollen.

Then a new thought hit me. “Has J.R. released information about you or Mike?”

She shook her head and pulled her hand from mine to wipe her tears. “It doesn’t matter if he releases mine. Everyone already knows about me and Brody.”

“And Mike?”

She tried to smile, but more tears leaked from her eyes. “He says he’s at peace with whatever happens. Carter Hale said he’d take Mike’s case if it came to that.”

My eyes widened. “You’ve spoken to Carter?”

“He’s been asking all kinds of questions about Momma’s murder and who you knew then and know now.”

“It’s time to go in,” Deputy Miller said, putting gentle pressure on my back. “I suspect they’re ready for you.”

I looked over my shoulder at him. “Okay. Thank you for this.”

“I wanted you to know you have friends who support you and are trying to get you out of this. Myself included.”

My mouth parted in surprise.

“Just be ready for it to get bad inside that courtroom. Rumor has it the DA is out for blood.”

“Thanks for the warning, Deputy Miller.”

He lowered his voice. “Call me Randy. What I’m doing makes us friends, don’t ya think?”

My stomach tightened with worry. “Don’t do anything to jeopardize your job.”

His jaw set. “After what Chief Deputy Simmons pulled, I was planning to quit. But Mr. Deveraux convinced me to stay.”

I shot him a look of surprise, wondering what that was about, but I didn’t have time to give it much thought. He was already leading me through a door I recognized from my short stint as a juror on Bruce Wayne’s murder trial.

My heart leapt into my throat as I entered the courtroom, and Randy tightened his grip on my arm to comfort me. We passed the empty jury box, and I saw Carter sitting at the defense table. He wore a serious expression, which looked out of place on him.

An elderly man sat at the opposite table, thumbing through pages of notes. He shot me a glare so filled with hate it took my breath away. It was the DA, Terry Snyder, Mason’s old boss.

“Just ignore him,” Deputy Miller said under his breath as we rounded the table, and he pulled out my chair.

As I sat down, I saw the back doors to the courtroom open. Mason, Violet, and my friends entered and found seats, but a new face in the back corner caught my eye.

Jed.

His arm was in a sling, and he looked just as bad as Mason. He’d been shot a few days before—because of me—and he probably had no business being up and about. Yet there he sat, doing the job that Skeeter had assigned to him months ago—the one he’d taken more personally than I ever would have expected. He was watching over me. He gave me a barely perceptible nod and a slight smile.

And that was my undoing.

My chin quivered and I fought to keep it together.

I’d gone from friendless and lonely to bursting at the seams with people who loved and cared about me. Here I was sitting at the defense table wearing an orange jumpsuit, but I was luckier than most people in the world.

Carter leaned close and whispered in my ear. “This will be surprisingly short. Now remember, you won’t speak at all. I’ll do all the talking.”

I nodded and looked back at Mason, who gave me a tight smile of reassurance.

The bailiff stepped into the room. “All rise for the honorable Judge Berger.”

Everyone stood, filling the room with a chorus of chairs scraping on the wood floor. The judge walked in with a no-nonsense look. He was younger than Judge McClary, probably in his late thirties. He sat down, and everyone else followed suit except for the attorneys and me.

The judge looked through some papers, and the DA responded to his questions in legalese and handed some papers to the bailiff. All I heard was “murder for hire” and “solicitation for murder” and “felony charges.”

Then Carter answered with more legalese and paperwork, and then the judge asked for the prosecution’s recommendation for bail.

The DA gave Mason a smug stare before turning back to face the judge. “We recommend that state hold the defendant without bail. She is a flight risk and a possible risk to society.”

Carter listened to it all, not saying a word even though a full-fledged panic attack was brewing in my chest. The judge finally addressed him.

“Your Honor,” Carter said in a slow drawl. “Rose Gardner is a respected member of the community. She’s sunk money into not one but two profitable businesses. In addition, she’s aided the Arkansas State Police, the Fenton County Sheriff’s Department, and the Henryetta Police Department in apprehending multiple criminals. To deny bail would be preposterous.”