Judging Joshua. Mary Wilson Anne
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tips of his fingers to the side of her throat. She looked painfully pale, but her pulse was there, light but steady.
“I’ll call the clinic and ask Doc to come over and check her out,” Charlie said, and hurried back into the main room.
When Joshua touched Riley on her cool cheek, she stirred slightly and he eased back. Dark lashes arched on her pale skin, then they fluttered and her eyes opened. They were unfocused at first, but at the same time they started to sharpen, she jerked up, almost hitting Joshua in the process. He reached for her shoulders and tried to ease her back down. “Hey, take it easy,” he said.
She was shaking, but refused to lie down. Her eyes darted around the cell. “Oh, no,” she breathed, and twisted to face him as she swiped at his hands. “What happened?”
He pulled back, but stayed hunkered down and at eye level with her. “You fainted. Just take it easy. The doctor’s coming.”
“No, no doctor. I don’t need a doctor.” She shook her head. “I just need to not be here.”
He knew the feeling, but that didn’t change facts. “Charlie wants the doctor to check you out.”
She released a breath on a shuddering hiss. “I’m okay,” she said, and twisted, pushing with her hands to get to her feet.
He moved back as she stood, but he didn’t miss the unsteadiness in her stance. “I told you to—”
Charlie was back at the door to the lockdown area. “Doc’s on his way. Says to keep an eye on her, not to leave her alone.” The buzzer from dispatch sounded on the speaker. “Stay here with her,” Charlie said briskly over his shoulder as he took off on a jog to take the call in dispatch.
Joshua turned to Riley. She was very still, her arms clutched around her chest, and she was looking right at him with startling blue eyes. “Lie down. The doctor will be here soon,” he said, automatically reaching to help her sit.
Before he could make contact, she swiped at his hand, striking him on the wrist. “Don’t. You can’t do this,” she said.
“Miss Shaw, I’m not doing this because I’m enjoying it.” He rubbed at his wrist and stopped himself before he said, “I’m just doing my duty.” He remembered hating his dad saying that when he was growing up. “I’m just trying to make this as easy for all of us as I can.”
She bit her lip and slowly sank onto the cot, but she stayed sitting up and stared at the floor. “Listen, I didn’t steal that car. I really didn’t.”
“Okay. I’ll make inquiries, and if that’s true, I’ll apologize to you and fill your gas tank on the way out of town.”
Her eyes lifted and he met her blue gaze. Why in the hell did he feel like such a heel for only doing what he’d said he’d do?
“Well, polish up on your apology and find some cheap gas,” she murmured.
The vulnerability he’d seen in her when she’d fainted and after she’d come around was gone. It was replaced by a hard look and sarcasm. “We’ll see,” was all he trusted himself to say.
Charlie was back. “Got problems at the lifts. Kids getting out of hand. Rollie got the car and Wes is on his way to the lifts. You stay and cover the calls, and take care of Doc when he gets here.” Charlie glanced at Riley, then, with a nod to her, left.
Joshua looked back at Riley. “While we wait for Doc to get here, I’ll make some phone calls to see what I can find out.”
He moved toward the cell door, but as he turned back to say one more thing to her, he stopped. She was right behind him, reminding him of a puppy dog who wouldn’t stay put and insisted on being at your heels. “Don’t leave me here,” she said, that vulnerability there for a flashing instant in her blue eyes.
“Miss Shaw, you can’t—”
She lifted her chin with determination. “But the doctor said not to leave me alone.”
He’d forgotten all about that. “You’ll be fine.”
“No, I could faint again.” She pointed at the cement floor. “If I hit that instead of having you to catch me…” She met his gaze without blinking. “I could really get hurt, and if I get hurt because you’re negligent and you’ve brought me in here wrongly, well…” She let her words trail off with the threat implied instead of stated.
Vulnerable? Not hardly. “Okay, you can come out with me until a deputy gets back or the doctor arrives.”
Without a word, she went around him, and he found himself in the ludicrous position of following the prisoner out of the lockdown area into the main squad room. She hesitated, then turned to look at him. “Where do you want to chain me?” she asked with what seemed to be complete seriousness.
He walked around her and crossed to his dad’s office near the side entry hall. “In here,” he said, letting her pass him into the work space. As he went in after her, he shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on a hook by the door, then turned.
This had been his dad’s office for as long as he could remember. It had seemed dark and threatening to him when he’d been a kid, but now it looked tired and mellow. There were worn leather chairs, a wooden desk scarred from thirty years of wear, and filing cabinets that he hadn’t even looked in since filling in at the station. The bottom half of the wall that it shared with the main room was dark wood; the upper part was glass, lined with plain old horizontal blinds. His dad had always kept them open. They were still open.
“You can sit there,” he said, motioning to one of two straight-backed wooden chairs that faced the desk.
She took a seat, then looked up at him and said, “Go ahead. Do your duty.”
She was serious, but he couldn’t be. He found himself smiling at her. “Please, just sit there and be still.” He moved around the desk to drop into the leather swivel chair, and turned to Riley.
“No chains or handcuffs?” she asked.
“No whips and torture, either, if you’ll just promise me you’ll stay put until the doctor gets here.”
“I will, if you promise me you’ll call Chicago and find out the truth.”
He was more than ready to do that. He reached for a notepad and pen. “Okay. First, why don’t you give me the name and number of the attorney who supposedly hired you to drive the car?”
She frowned intently as she sat forward on the wooden seat and pressed the palms of her hands against the edge of his desk. “It begins with an N. Nil-land. No.” She closed her eyes tightly and whispered, “Think, think, think.” Then she said, “Nyland.” Her eyes opened. “Alvin Nyland.”
He had his pen ready. “What’s his number?”
She shrugged and he could see her fingers pressing hard against the wooden top of the desk. “I don’t know. I didn’t think to bring it. But surely he’d be listed. He’s got a huge office in Chicago, takes up a lot of floors in this towering building by the lake, and there are four or five partners in the firm’s name. You know, one of those big, overblown, fancy, money-making law firms?”
Yes, he knew very well what she meant. “Okay, what are the names in the big, overblown, fancy, money-making law firm?”
“I don’t remember, but it sure sounded important and his name’s part of it. Not at the top, but second or third, I think.” She let go of the desk and motioned to the phone. “Just call and give his name to Information. They should have a listing for him. Alvin Nyland,” she repeated, and slowly spelled out the last name letter by letter.
He lifted the receiver and put in a call to Information for Chicago and asked for Alvin Nyland, Attorney. They came up with the number right away, and he hit the button to dial it through, then heard a voice on the other end. “Good afternoon. Wallace, Levin, Geisler, Nyland and Yen. How may I direct your