Rangers are working harder than ever to do just that,” Emma said. “I’m worried Graham is going to work himself right into a heart attack.” Captain Graham Ellison, FBI agent and Emma’s fiancé, headed up The Ranger Brigade. Other members of the task force included Abby’s boyfriend, Michael Dance, and Sophie’s boyfriend, Rand Knightbridge.
“What will happen if the task force disbands?” Lauren asked.
“It won’t,” Emma said. “All of Richard Prentice’s money isn’t going to keep him out of jail forever. The grand jury is supposed to end its proceedings today. Once they hand down an indictment, all his money and influence won’t mean anything.”
“If they hand down an indictment,” Abby said. “Michael is afraid all the expensive experts Prentice has hired will persuade the grand jury that he’s as innocent and persecuted as he likes to portray himself in the press.”
“They can’t ignore all the evidence against him,” Lauren said. She had spent two full days last week in the grand jury room, giving every detail of her six weeks as Prentice’s captive, as well as information about the investigation she’d conducted into his affairs that had led the billionaire to capture her and hide her away, first upstairs in his mansion, then in an abandoned mine on his property.
“Michael says he heard Prentice hired an expert to testify that the picture you gave them of Prentice with Alan Milbanks was so blurry no one could tell who the men in the photo really were,” Abby said.
“Alan Milbanks gave me that photograph himself before he died,” Lauren said. The drug dealer had been shot to death in the fish store that served as a front for his smuggling operation only a few days before Lauren was rescued. “He told me Richard Prentice was bankrolling his drug business.”
Abby shrugged. “I’m just saying that some people are more easily persuaded than others. The jury might believe Prentice.”
They might. After all, Lauren had believed his lies, too, at least at first. He’d portrayed himself as a caring, charity-minded businessman who’d been forced, by circumstance, into the role of champion of individual rights. All his problems with the government were simply misunderstandings, or the result of his defense of personal liberty for everyone.
“I heard the grand jury brought in a lot of other experts,” Emma said. “Of course, it’s all hush-hush. No one is supposed to know who testifies before the grand jury, and there isn’t even a judge present, just the prosecutor. But people talk.”
“What kind of experts?” Sophie asked.
“Psychiatrists.” Emma glanced at Lauren, then quickly averted her gaze.
“I’m betting they weren’t talking about Richard’s state of mind,” Lauren said.
“You don’t know that,” Sophie said. “Maybe they were explaining what would lead a man with more money than Midas to want to gain even more illegally. Or why a man known for dating models and actresses would decide to hold you hostage until you agreed to marry him.”
“The psychiatrists were talking about me,” Lauren said. “I saw some of the jurors’ faces when I told them Richard wanted to marry me. They thought I made the whole story up.” After all, that had been Prentice’s defense from the moment she was found: Lauren had come to him for help. She’d always been free to leave his property, but she’d fixated on him and insisted on staying. He’d only been trying to be a good friend; the poor woman was delusional.
“All I know is that the grand jury is supposed to deliver its decision this morning and I have to get to the courthouse.” Emma pulled her sunglasses from her purse. “I’ve already started working on my story for the next issue of the Post. There’s no way twenty-three people could hear what happened to you, Lauren, and not indict.”
“Call when you know something,” Abby said.
“Oh, I will,” Emma said. “We might even have to break out a bottle of champagne, once Prentice is safely behind bars.”
No one said anything until Emma had left, then Abby turned to Lauren. “Let’s forget about Prentice for a little bit,” she said. “What are you going to do about your job?”
Her job. For a moment she’d almost forgotten the original reason her friends had shown up this morning. She’d loved the excitement of reporting on breaking news and the feeling that she was involved in important events, a part of the lives of the people who tuned in every day to hear what she had to say. She still couldn’t believe she’d lost all of that. “I guess I need a plan, huh?” Though she hadn’t the foggiest idea what that plan should be.
“I think you should hire a lawyer,” Abby said. “The station can’t cut you off with no severance or benefits or anything when they’ve outright admitted their firing you is related to your medical diagnosis. The Americans with Disabilities Act probably has something to say about that.”
“Abby is right,” Sophie said. “Threaten to sue them and make them cough up a settlement—and continue your medical benefits, at least until you find something better.”
Right. She didn’t want to lose the benefits that paid for the medication that was keeping her on an even keel. “Good idea,” she said. “I have a lawyer friend in Denver. I’ll call him today.” She grabbed a notebook from the counter that separated the apartment’s kitchen from the living area and wrote that down. It felt good to have something constructive to do.
“And I’m not going to stop going after Richard Prentice, either,” she said. “Even with the grand jury indictment, the prosecutor will need every bit of evidence he can get to convict. Prentice thinks his money puts him above the law. I’m going to show him he’s wrong.”
“Emma will help, I’m sure,” Sophie said. “If you both use your skills as investigative reporters, you’re bound to turn up something.”
“We can all help,” Abby said. “I only know about botany, but I’m good at following directions, so if you give me a job, I’ll do it.” A graduate student, Abby had almost completed her work toward a master’s degree in environmental science.
“Me, too,” Sophie said. A former government administrator in Madison, Wisconsin, Sophie had given up her job to move to Montrose and search for Lauren.
“Thanks, all of you.” Lauren hugged them each in turn. For all the terrible things that had happened to her in the past weeks and months, she’d gained these wonderful friends. They had rallied around her since she’d come to Montrose, and treated her like another sister. That was a blessing she was truly grateful for.
A knock sounded on the door. Sophie said, “That’s probably Rand. He said he was going to stop by and take me to lunch.”
Lauren answered the door. “Hello, Rand.” She smiled at the handsome, muscular man with short brown hair who stood on the landing, then looked past him to the darker, taller man behind him. “Hello, Marco.”
“How are you doing, Lauren?” Agent Marco Cruz asked as he followed his coworker into the apartment. His deep, soft voice made her heart beat a little faster. When had she turned into such a cliché, going all swoony over the handsome guy in uniform who’d just happened to save her life? Of course, pretty much any straight woman with a pulse got a little weak-kneed around Marco, who might have been the inspiration for the description “tall, dark and
