will bring it.”
“You seem pretty sure of that. Do you Rangers communicate via ESP or secret code or something?”
“He’s got my back.” He glanced at her. “Now you’re with me, so he’s got your back, too.”
His words—and the certainty with which he spoke them, sent a different kind of heat curling through her—part old-fashioned lust and part the unfamiliar warmth of acceptance. Her disease had separated her from others for so long. How ironic that a threat to her life had involved her with a community of friends again.
Half a dozen Cruisers filled the spaces in front of the task force headquarters building. “Something’s up.” Marco parked along the side of the road and was out of the vehicle before Lauren had even unbuckled her seat belt.
She hurried after him, running to keep up. Inside the building, uniformed officers crowded the small, low-ceilinged rooms. “What’s going on?” Marco asked.
“You’ll find out as soon as everyone’s here.”
The captain retreated to his office, shutting the door behind him.
“Any idea what this is about?” Lieutenant Michael Dance, Abby’s boyfriend, asked.
Everyone shook their heads. “All I know is, the captain has been on the phone most of the morning,” Carmen Redhorse, an officer with the Colorado Bureau of Investigations, said. “Whatever this is about, he’s not happy.”
Twenty minutes later, Graham finally emerged from his office and surveyed the room full of officers. “Where’s Lance?”
“I’m here.” Lauren looked over her shoulder to see the deputy in the doorway. He made his way over to them and handed Lauren her overnight bag, then gave Marco a slip of paper. “The car’s on its way to the impound lot.”
“Did you take a look at the brake lines?” Marco asked.
“Yeah. They look cut to me, but we’ll know more when the techs are done.”
“If I could have your attention.” Graham stood at the front of the room and held up one hand. A hush settled over the crowd. Lauren clenched her hands into fists and fought to keep still; the tension was contagious.
The captain cleared his throat. “The grand jury has failed to indict Richard Prentice of any of the charges against him,” he said.
Lauren blinked, sure she had heard the captain wrong. He must mean the grand jury had indicted Richard Prentice, right? She turned to Marco, his face the stone mask of an Aztec warrior. “What’s happening?” she asked.
“Somehow, Prentice managed to get off,” he said.
“I don’t understand,” she said, still dazed. “He kidnapped me. He held me prisoner. You saw where he was keeping me.”
“We saw.” Rand’s expression was as grim as everyone else’s. Even Lotte, who stood by his side, looked upset. “We know you’re telling the truth, not just about the kidnapping, but about the other crimes he’s involved in.”
“At least you believe me,” Lauren said. “The jury obviously didn’t. They believed Richard when he said I was making everything up.”
“Maybe it wasn’t you,” Marco said. “Maybe it was something else.”
“They didn’t believe me because they think I’m crazy,” she said. “I’m mentally ill, so of course I must be a liar, too. I made the whole thing up. It was a wild fantasy I concocted just to get attention.” Online columnists and bloggers had already wasted plenty of bandwidth speculating on the reasons for Lauren’s “obsession” with the billionaire. Because of course, why would he ever be obsessed with her? Sure, she was pretty, they said. But she had a history of wild behavior. So of course, her side of the story couldn’t be trusted.
“Prentice is trying to distract people by making this case about you,” Marco said. “It’s a game he’s playing, but it’s a game he isn’t going to win.”
“What will you do?” she asked.
“We’ll have to start over.” Captain Ellison joined them. “We’re going to work the case as if it’s brand-new, reexamining every lead, taking a second look at every bit of evidence. I want everyone focused on this. It’s going to take a lot of long days and hard work, but we’ll build a case the prosecution can’t deny.”
Around her, heads lifted and shoulders straightened. The anger they’d felt moments earlier transformed into determination to see justice done. Lauren wished their energy was contagious, but she was still reeling from the knowledge that what had happened to her had been so easily dismissed by the twenty-three members of the grand jury. She touched Marco’s arm. “I’ll go now and let you get to work.”
“Let me go with you,” he said. He pulled keys from his pocket.
“No, you’re needed here.” She looked around the room. Already, members of the task force were pulling out files and booting up computers, ready to get to work.
“It’s not safe for you to be alone,” Marco said.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll call Sophie to come pick me up.” It wasn’t as if she could drive her wrecked car. “Now that he’s swayed the grand jury, Prentice knows I’m no threat.”
He was going to argue with her, she could tell, but the door burst open and Emma stalked in, the heels of her stilettos striking the tile floor so hard Lauren expected to see sparks. Jaw clenched, eyes blazing, she looked ready to punch someone. “Hello, Emma,” Graham said, as calm as ever. “I take it you heard the news about Richard Prentice.”
Emma set her bag down on the edge of a desk. “Officially, I’m here to get your statement on this turn of events for my story,” she said. “Unofficially, I need to vent to someone who understands my frustration. How could they do this? How could they ignore all the evidence you had against him?”
“We’ll never know for sure, but I’m guessing they interpreted everything as circumstantial,” Graham said. “We don’t have fingerprints, tape recordings or any written records, and only one eyewitness.”
“Whom they don’t consider reliable,” Lauren said. She blocked any protests they might have made. “Don’t deny it. I’m not.”
“He is doing a smear campaign against you,” Emma said. “My editor sent me a copy of the press release Prentice issued this afternoon.”
“What does it say?” Michael asked.
She leaned against the desk and pulled up the press release on her phone. “There’s a bunch of malarkey about justice being done, proves his innocence, blah, blah, blah.” She waved her hand. “But here’s the part about Lauren. ‘It is painful to know my friend Lauren Starling is so ill. I can find no other explanation for why she would attack the one man who truly tried to help her. I hope she will find the help she needs to get well. On her behalf I am making a generous donation toward mental
