Under The Western Sky. Laurie Paige
Читать онлайн книгу.
help. “I want to call my brother. He’s an attorney. He’ll tell you who I am.”
“You’ll have to ask the D.A. if you can have another call.” He started for the door.
“I haven’t had the first one yet.”
“Chief Windover. That was who you asked for.”
“I demand to see somebody. Where is this district attorney?”
He shrugged. “The office is closed for the weekend. You’ll have to wait until Monday to talk to him. Also,” he added when she started to protest, “the courthouse is closed, too. There’s no judge to listen to your case and set bail. Not that I would recommend bail. You’re a prime candidate to flee, in my opinion.”
“Which you would just have to give, wouldn’t you?”
His smile was barely visible under the ice pack. “It would be my civic duty.”
With that, he left her alone in the narrow ugly room with its scarred table and three chairs, one of which had a broken leg. The anger, sarcasm and just plain disbelief faded. She blinked back unexpected tears, feeling as abandoned as a two-year-old lost in a department store.
Not that she considered him a savior. The handsome, albeit unreasonable, detective was the one who’d gotten her into this mess. Well, Josiah, too. She had a thing or two to say to that innocent-acting young man.
The grizzled sergeant stuck his head in the door. “Let’s go,” he said.
“Am I free?” she asked in surprised relief.
He gave her a look that said she wasn’t.
“What about my car? It isn’t locked. Someone could steal it.”
“After it was searched, it was towed in.”
“Searched? Towed?” she repeated indignantly.
The officer wouldn’t be drawn into further conversation. He shrugged off her questions, took her to a cell and locked the door after she was inside.
She was a prisoner.
Chapter Two
After canceling his date, Tony drove home, staring at the road while the late-afternoon sun began its glide into the evening. He examined the swelling across his nose and under his eyes. On the way to his temporary home, a room in the local park headquarters barracks, his thoughts strayed to the jail. He wondered what the captive was doing at this moment. Probably giving an earful to whoever happened to be handy about her wrongful arrest.
She’d probably sue him if she was innocent.
At the long, low residence barracks, he parked in front of his unit, which was one big room with a bed, sitting area and kitchen consisting of an under-thecounter fridge, a two-burner hot plate, a sink and a microwave, and went inside. He had his own bathroom here, unlike some hostels he’d stayed at during his college years while working for the park service.
All the comforts of home.
The nosebleed returned when he took a shower. Ten minutes later, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, he held a new batch of ice cubes to his nose while he studied the contents of the cabinets.
As usual, his choices ran to cereal, sandwiches or soup. Not exactly a gourmet selection, but better than the food the suspect would likely get in jail.
He suddenly wished he could confide the happenings of the day to his foster uncle. Jefferson Aquilon—his mom had once been married to Uncle Jeff’s brother, so the older man was sort of a stepuncle—had always treated him and his sister, Krista, as if they were his own flesh and blood, the same as Jeremy, a nephew who was also an orphan and their stepcousin. Uncle Jeff was a good listener.
Tony needed some advice on his own confusing reactions to the suspect. The fact that he halfway believed her story probably meant he was ready for the loony bin.
Strangest of all, he regretted that she would have to spend the weekend in jail and wondered if he should call the D.A. and judge at home to see what they thought should be done with her.
Man, what was he thinking? After what she did to him, she didn’t deserve any special treatment. No way.
He selected a can of soup and made a ham sandwich, then settled in front of the television to catch the news while he ate the solitary meal. With the summer help gone from the barracks and the information office closed, he had the place to himself.
The world news didn’t distract his thoughts from the prisoner, he found. It was probably scary to be locked in jail. Especially if she was as innocent as she proclaimed.
Not that he was considering taking her side. He wasn’t that gullible to her charms, although she’d felt pretty good nestled against him. As if she belonged there.
Shaking his head at the fantasy, he finished the meal and cut a huge slice from a chocolate cake he’d bought at the grocery that morning. It seemed an age since he’d blithely gotten up, done the shopping and gone down to open the souvenir store at nine o’clock.
And arrested one of the most fascinating suspects he’d ever met after a tussle that lingered in his mind with as much stubborn determination as she’d displayed in her attempts to escape.
Taking the last bite of cake, he savored the chocolate flavor, then wondered if prisoners got dessert.
Twenty minutes later, after a change of clothing, Tony pulled up in front of the state patrol building. He was still arguing with himself about the wisdom of being here when he went inside. He’d decided to use the treat to soften up the suspect and get some info out of her about her contacts with the gang of thieves looting the Chaco sites, assuming there was a gang and the thefts over the past year were related.
“I, uh, brought the nurse something,” he said to the sergeant at the desk. It wasn’t the same one as earlier in the day.
“What nurse?”
“The suspect I brought in this afternoon. I figured she might need some nourishment after having dinner in here.”
“Hey, we have the meals catered,” the night-duty officer declared.
“Yeah, right.”
After a chuckle, the man said, “I’ll have to check what’s in the bag.”
Tony waited, feeling more and more foolish as the cop opened the bag, examined a plastic fork, then the napkin and removed the top from the plastic bowl. “Man, that looks good,” he said.
“Sorry, I didn’t bring any extra,” Tony told the sarge with a sardonic smile. “Got any fresh coffee?”
“Yeah, I made a pot when I came on duty less than an hour ago. Want me to bring you some?”
“That would be great.”
The officer repacked the treat. “I’ll buzz you in. She’s in cell number one.”
The television set mounted on the wall outside the cell was turned on, but Julianne wasn’t listening to the news. She was still wound up from the ordeal with the police.
In spite of being dead tired, she couldn’t get into the mood to sleep. If she’d been at home, she would have tried aromatherapy. Lavender was supposed to be soothing when steeped in hot water. Chamomile tea was a sleep aid, but she doubted the jailer had any on hand.
A loud buzz startled her. The door to the cell block opened and a man walked in. Her heart knotted up in alarm, then relaxed as she realized who he was.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she muttered. She rose from the hard bunk. Glaring between the bars on the door, she demanded, “What are you doing here?”
Her nemesis from the tourist shop stopped in front of her. “I brought you a present.”
He held out a brown paper bag. She eyed it as if it might explode any