Thirty-Five and a Half Conspiracies
Page 5

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.”