Out of the Depths

CHAPTER THREE

THE GRAY BRICKS OF THE holding cell reflected Kyndal’s mood. Leaning back against the bars allowed a visual escape from that part of the reality, and she refused to make contact with the thin mattress on the cot that took up one wall. The only other fixture was a stainless-steel toilet stuck in the back corner. The thought of having to use the odious thing brought bile to her throat. She gripped the sheriff’s telephone tighter, trying to bring her nerves under control before she made the call.

When they’d first arrived at the Marshall County Sheriff’s Department, a teenage girl had been in the first cell. She was crying softly when the sheriff opened the door leading from his office into the narrow corridor that gave access to the cells. He stopped Kyndal in front of the girl.

“Melody,” he barked like a drill sergeant. “You know this woman?”

The girl shook her head and started to bawl. “N-No, sir. Isn’t my mom here yet? My stepdad’s gonna kill me.”

Sheriff Blaine’s grip tightened on Kyndal’s arm. He marched her past the empty second cell and into the last.

The girl’s incessant wailing had frayed Kyndal’s nerves to the point where she’d wanted to cry, too, but she’d fought the urge. Tears wouldn’t help. From what she’d seen, showing any sign of weakness to Sheriff Blaine was like waving a red flag in front of a bull.

Later, after the sheriff came and removed Melody, things got eerily quiet for a few short moments. Suddenly, a burst of shouting ensued from the next room, and a man’s voice bellowed obscenities Kyndal never knew existed along with “smart-ass bitch,” “slut” and “little whore.”

Kyndal cringed at the abusive verbal attack. It reminded her of her second stepdad, Hal. Melody’s fears of her stepfather’s reaction were obviously well-grounded.

A couple of other male voices—Sheriff Blaine’s and a deeper one, perhaps a deputy’s—tried to calm him down.

Nothing had any effect until the sheriff threatened him with arrest. “We’ll be seeing a lot of Melody, and don’t think I won’t be checking out her condition.” Sheriff Blaine’s voice had an edge that would slide through metal. “So don’t go thinking you’re safe to tie into her when you get home. Now go on out front and let’s get these papers signed. I’m ready to get the hell finished with you.”

The door to the cell block opened. Sheriff Blaine’s heavy breathing preceded him down the narrow passage to Kyndal’s cell. He glared at her, red-faced, through the bars. “Made that phone call yet?”

She shook her head, momentarily losing her voice.

“Make it quick.”

He turned and stalked back down the hall, slamming the door behind him so hard it bounced back open a sliver. Kyndal heard the shuffle of papers and the sound of another door opening and closing. Then silence.

She took a deep breath and dialed Jaci’s number. She’d need a ride back to her car. With Mom who-knows-where with the jerk-of-the-month, it would have to be Jaci. If Jaci wasn’t home, she’d take her chance walking before she’d get back in the car with Sheriff Blaine. One ride in the sheriff’s car was enough for a lifetime.

“Hello?” Thank God.

“Jaci, it’s Kyn.”

“Hey, Kyn. Bart and I were just talking about you. Thought we’d give you a call and see if you wanted—”

“Jaci, listen.” In his present mood, Sheriff Blaine might come jerk the phone out of her hand if she took too long. “I’m at the Marshall County Sheriff’s Office in Benton. I’ve been arrested.”

Jaci’s voice exploded over the line. “You’ve what? What in the corn bread hell happened? What’d you do to get arrested?”

“I trespassed.” Kyndal kept her voice level, not giving in to her emotions now that she heard a sympathizing voice. “I needed some shots of a cave, so I went to the one…you know. There were no-trespassing signs, but I thought—” Her voice broke, and she stopped to gain control. “Can you come pick me up?”

“I’m on my way.” The phone went dead.

The drive from Paducah to Benton would take thirty to forty-five minutes. Kyndal paced the cell and waited, the minutes creeping by.

Twelve forty-three. Seven hours ago, she’d gotten up with the hope of a new job and a world of possibilities. Now she sat in a jail cell, facing a huge fine, at best.

She wouldn’t allow herself to ponder the worst-case scenario. What if it hit the newspapers and her name got linked back to the True Tennessee debacle? She might end up photographing kids the rest of her life.

And how much would a fine cost her? Probably more than the fifty-seven dollars left in her checking account. She was loath to dip into the savings she’d put back while working for the website. She’d already had to do it a few times to help out her mom. But a fine—or bail—wouldn’t leave her with any choice.

She lambasted herself. How could she have even considered such a prank? Now Old Man Turner—Mr. Turner, she corrected herself—would never allow her to go back to shoot the amazing crystal cavern, and she couldn’t bring herself to ask about the shots she’d already taken. She’d have to kiss this job goodbye.

As if the money part wasn’t bad enough, facing the old codger and confessing her crime still lay ahead of her. They wouldn’t let him bring the shotgun, would they? Her face burned, remembering the baleful look in the old guy’s eyes.

Would Sheriff Blaine consider a plea bargain? Maybe she could work off the fine in family photographs. Or staff pictures. A holiday calendar, maybe. With the office number to call in case of emergency. The knot in her stomach loosened a smidgen.

Or would he consider the suggestion a bribe and run the cost up even higher? The knot yanked tighter than ever.

While she debated the wisdom of this tactic, male voices and chuckles filtered through the cracked door. Sheriff Blaine and the deputy came back into the office. Evidently, Melody was on her way home.

Kyndal brushed at the dirt on her jeans, trying to make herself as presentable as possible. Climbing the cave wall had left streaks down the front and sides of her clothes. Running her hands down her hair, she could feel how the humidity had wreaked havoc on it.

Maybe the sheriff would feel sorry for her or think her slightly deranged.

The voices moved closer to the door.

“We questioned the kids. They swear they don’t know her. The bags turned up nothing. No pot. Not even a trace. She’s not who we’re looking for.”

Kyndal’s breath came out in a rush. They thought she’d been making a drug drop!

“Even so, she was trespassing in a clearly marked area.” The voice was smooth and deep, and Kyndal’s stomach fluttered at the sound of it. She imagined the tall, dark and handsome deputy it might belong to. “Professional photographers know better than to go on someone’s property without permission. I mean, she’s not the paparazzi, right?”

The words stung.

They laughed together, and Kyndal’s eyes burned with indignation. She’d always prided herself on her professionalism. They knew nothing about her or her work. Hadn’t they ever had an occasional lapse in judgment for an exciting opportunity? Everybody did. It wasn’t a crime. It was part of being human.

Of course, trespassing was a crime.

Anger came on the heels of the other emotions. Anger at the sheriff who had the audacity to think she might be connected with drugs.

Anger at the deputy who obviously considered her an amateur.

But mostly, anger at herself, for getting into this asinine situation.

The door to the office opened wide. The sheriff took his time, stopping to peer into the vacant cells before he finally unlocked hers.

“Go on out into my office. We have some questions we want to ask you. Made your call yet?”

Kyndal nodded and handed him the telephone. She took deep, calming breaths as she made her way down the narrow hall and through the door into the sun-brightened office. She squinted at the figure standing by the window.

Not a deputy, unless he was dressed for undercover work. Jeans and a cashmere crewneck? Expensive taste. Her eyes moved up his frame. Tall. Dark. And, from what she could see of his profile, handsome, indeed.

She blinked.

He turned and her eyes met the steeliness of his rock-hard gaze. Her heart made a quick jaunt into her throat and then plummeted to the bottom of her stomach. The face was a bit fuller. The jaw a tad firmer. The hair several inches shorter. But the eyes hadn’t changed at all.

“Chance?” Had the sheriff called her a lawyer? Was her situation that serious? She locked her knees to keep them from buckling. “Why are you here?” The words came out startled and clipped—harsher than she would have used in more congenial circumstances.

A number of emotions crossed his features and she read them as easily as she always had. Confusion. Understanding. Amusement.

So he found her predicament amusing? She held back the smile of recognition and greeting that had been on the edges of her lips, keeping her face neutral and composed.

Chance gave a chuckle, and her mind flashed to the deep voice she’d been hearing—the one she thought belonged to a deputy. Chance’s. How could she not have recognized it?

His dark eyes danced, and his full mouth turned up slightly at one end as he walked over to her and extended his hand. “It’s good to see you, too, Kyndal.”

She clasped his hand. “Did they call you to be my attorney?” A tremor moved up her arm when she spoke the last word. His grip tightened and he covered her hand with his other one. The touch was warm and familiar; it should have been comforting, but it wasn’t. It made her want to curl up in a fetal ball.

The three worst moments in her life—when Chance broke up with her, when the website got closed and now this. She cringed. The website was the only one that had nothing to do with him.

He gave her a questioning look as his smile broadened. “No, I’m not here to represent you.”

His eyes held hers and she was back in Mrs. Cooper’s junior English class, meeting his gaze. She pulled her hand free, not wanting to give him the opportunity to feel it tremble again.

Kyndal’s mind raced. Why would Chance Brennan be standing there in front of her? He was a lawyer…but he wasn’t there to be her lawyer. Was he the prosecuting attorney here to press charges? Oh. My. God! “Chance, I can explain all this. I wanted to get some shots of a cave and the only one I knew of was the one where we, um…” Don’t bring that up! Her mouth was moving too fast. She paused to let her brain catch up. “The one we…we went to—on the lake. There were signs posted about trespassing, but I wasn’t going to hurt anything.” Chance’s eyes danced with amusement. Inside, he was laughing at her! “I’m not stupid, like you’re thinking.”

“Kyndal, I—”

“I know I shouldn’t have trespassed.” She talked faster to explain before he went into his prosecuting spiel. “I could read the signs. But sometimes professional photographers like me—” she emphasized the words “—have to take chances to get the shot we need. As long as nobody gets hurt and property doesn’t get damaged, it’s usually not a problem.” She swallowed hard. “My boots might have done a little damage to one of the walls, but tell Mr. Turner I’ll be glad to pay for the damage.” What if he was unreasonable and tried to make her pay a bunch of money she didn’t have? “As long as it’s within reason. I mean, is he even approachable?” She bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

“It’s okay, Kyn. It’s me.” Chance reached out. His finger brushed her cheek in a gesture that shook her to her core.

She turned away quickly, not letting him finish. “I know it’s you, but you’re working for him.”

A movement caught her attention. The sheriff crossed his arms and leaned against a file cabinet, silently taking this all in. She’d forgotten about him. “Can you get me a lawyer?”

His eyebrows shot up at her sudden address, and he shrugged.

“Kyndal.” Chance’s voice was right behind her and then his hands were on her shoulders, turning her around to face him. “You don’t need a lawyer. I won’t be pressing charges.” The mature take-charge tone of his deeper-than-she-remembered voice screamed the changes in him. He was a man now. With very large, warm hands.

He was studying her, no doubt weighing the girl he had known against the woman before him.

Much as she hated to admit it, she hoped a few years had added more character and wisdom. And she found herself hoping he found those traits attractive. Not that it made any difference, of course. But she did hope he didn’t sigh with relief at his lucky escape.

No sigh. An appreciative smile instead. “I’m the owner, Kyn. I own that land, cave and all.”

His hands dropped to his sides, and her temperature dropped a few degrees at the loss of his touch. But the cooling-off period lasted only until his words sank in. He was the owner! He should’ve told her that first thing. Instead, he’d been having fun at her expense. Her cheeks burned with humiliation. “You’ve been enjoying this, haven’t you?” She lit into him full force. “Seeing me squirm. Why didn’t you tell me as soon as you came in?”

“I tried. You wouldn’t—”

“You should’ve tried harder.”

“Apparently.” He ran his hand down his face, and turned his attention to the sheriff. “Buck, Kyndal and I are…old friends.”

The dismissive wave of his hand when he said those words hit Kyndal as soundly as a slap in the face. The derisive snort shot from her before she could control of anger. “Yeah. We sort of lost contact in college.”

Chance’s eyes darkened. “I’m sorry you went through this, Kyndal. I’ve had some trouble with teenagers.”

“Apparently.” She mimicked his previous tone.

“Did you see anything?”

She jumped at the sound of Sheriff Blaine’s voice behind her. “Did I see anything that looked like somebody had been there?” She moved mentally through the areas she had seen this morning. “No. But there are a lot of different ways to go from that first room.”

A blast of voice and static came over the sheriff’s two-way radio. “Sheriff, there’s been a wreck in front of the bank in Draffenville. No one’s hurt, but one of the drivers is drunk.”

Sheriff Blaine pulled the radio from his belt. “I’ll be right there.” He zipped up his leather jacket, which stretched tight over his paunch. “Hate to break up the reunion, but, Ms. Rawlings, we need to get you back to your car. I’ll stop in Draffenville and send you the rest of the way with Deputy Howard.”

Before Kyndal could answer, Chance waved away the suggestion. “I’ll take her back to her car.”

“Your stuff’s at the front desk.” The sheriff nodded his head toward the front room. “Hope I don’t see you again.” He smiled, and Kyndal heard a pleasant tone to his voice for the first time. “Unless it’s social.” He winked and clapped Chance on the back as he passed.

The sheriff’s exit cut her humiliation in half. If only Chance would leave, she could wallow in what must be a ten-ton vat of self-recrimination hanging in her stomach.

Instead, the weight increased when he crossed his arms and frowned. “Now, what were you really doing at my cave? I’m not aware of any problem it might be creating for Kentucky Lake. No pollution, no chemical dumping—unless it’s pot from the kids, which I’m trying to get stopped.”

So he’d heard about True Tennessee. She squared her shoulders, determined not to shrink from his tense look. “I told you why I was there. I need photos of a cave. A tourism magazine is starting up.”

“Tourism, eh?” He smiled then, but a smirk seemed to hang around the edges of his lips. “Does that mean you’ve left the dark side?”

“I was never on the dark side,” she huffed.

“Liberal environmentalists who stir the shit that closes companies and causes good people to lose their jobs are the dark side personified.”

“On the contrary, Counselor, liberal environmentalists save lives by enlightening the public about the way these companies ravage our natural resources.”

“Damn, Kyndal.” He wiped a hand down his face in a gesture she’d seen him make thousands of time. “Have you forgotten completely about who you are and where you’re from?” He bent toward her, bringing his eyes level with hers. “You’re a Paducah girl, and Paducah’s a river town. The Ohio means industry. Jobs—”

“Birth defects…cancer.” She raised on her tiptoes, causing him to straighten. “And death if we sit back idly and allow the dumping of poisons into our rivers to continue.”

He peered closely at her. “You’ve changed,” he said, making it sound like an accusation.

“And you haven’t.” She allowed a smirk of her own. “I hear you’re working for your dad.”

His jaw tightened. “With, not for. I’m a partner in the firm.”

“Well…good for you.”

The small office was getting awfully warm and the conversation had moved into a sparring phase she wasn’t up to at the moment. Pretty soon, he would start questioning her again about the new magazine and figure out how far she’d actually fallen. What category ranked below “Total Loser?” Oh, yeah, that would be “My Dad Was Right about You.” She couldn’t face that on top of everything else today.

She moved toward the door the sheriff had closed behind him. Escape seemed to be the best plan. “By the way, thanks for offering the ride, but Jaci’s on her way to pick me up.”

Chance moved more quickly and claimed the doorknob. He didn’t turn it immediately, pausing momentarily as if weighing his next comment. “I’m sorry, Kyn. This is no way for us to act. Are you in town long?” His free hand touched her casually below the shoulder blade.

There was nothing casual about her body’s reaction to his touch. Her nipples tightened as though they had no memory of his walking out of her life without a backward glance. A thin line of perspiration popped out along her upper lip and made her cringe. Before answering, she camouflaged a quick wipe of the area with a cough. “No, I’m going back to Tennessee this afternoon.” He removed his hand, and she immediately felt the loss.

“Ah. Well, I was hoping I could make this up to you somehow.”

This he wanted to make up for. Not for breaking up with her and breaking her heart. Not for his major role in the whole men-as-deserters drama of her life.

“This isn’t something you need to make up for,” she snapped.

He smiled. Nothing forced this time. A genuine, tender, gorgeous, all-the-way-into-his-eyes smile that indicated he took her at her word instead of reading the nuance in her voice.

She considered another comment. Something more pointed than the last. Something that would wipe the smile from those yummy lips. But he opened the door, and a welcome rush of air cooled her face. This would all be over soon. She let her comment drop.

The lady working the outer office placed Kyndal’s bags on the counter with a curt “Here’s your stuff” then went back to typing without giving them a second look.

“We need to get together sometime, and you know…catch up.”

Yeah, sometime when I’m gainfully employed…in an awesome job…and married to an awesome guy. Kyndal unzipped her bags and made a cursory check of their contents. She didn’t expect to find anything awry, but it was a good way to avoid eye contact. “Um, yeah. That’d be nice. Sometime.”

Chance’s cell phone rang before he could follow up, and Kyndal sighed her relief when the yellow of Jaci’s VW Beetle flashed through the window blinds.

“It’s all in the file on Alice’s desk, Dad. I finished it last night.”

Hearing Chance address his father stirred up memories, but Kyndal had no intention of allowing them to surface, considering how the rest of her day had gone. She inclined her head toward the window to indicate Jaci’s arrival, gathered her bags and hurried out the door.

Chance was close behind her, still talking, with obvious irritation. “I told you I’d be there before two, and I’m on my way.”

Jaci’s eyes widened when Kyndal and Chance exited the sheriff’s office together, and Kyndal answered her unspoken question with a don’t-you-dare-ask-any-questions-yet glare.

* * *

JACI GAVE A TIGHT SMILE TO indicate the message had been received although her brain was spinning at the sight.

Kyndal and Chance Brennan? Had hell frozen over?

She popped the trunk open and rolled her window down as Chance shoved his phone into his pocket. “Hey, Chance.” She forced a smile. “Haven’t seen you in forever. How are ya?”

“I’m doing well, Jaci. How are you and Bart?”

“We’re fine.” But what have you done to my best friend? If you’ve hurt her again, so help me, I’ll—

“I’ve been hearing good things about Décor and More.”

“That’s music to my ears.” She grabbed a few business cards from the stash in the sun visor and handed them to him. “Keep spreading the word.”

A worried look crossed his face, and he seemed about to say something else when Kyndal slammed the trunk. He hurried around to the passenger side, but not before Kyndal had herself safely tucked into the seat. She closed the door and stuck her hand out the window. “Thanks, Chance. You always said you’d buy that cave someday. I’m relieved that you own it today.”

Chance owned the cave? Wow, this should be some story.

Chance’s dark eyes softened as he leaned down to peer in the window. “It was good to see you again. It’s been way too long.” He shifted his eyes to Jaci. “Um, Jaci, I heard something about Julia recently…”

Her throat tightened at the mention of her business partner. Chance was Julia’s attorney, and if he’d already heard, her bad news must be out. She nodded. “It’s true. Breast cancer. Bilateral mastectomy. But they caught it early, so no chemo or radiation.”

Sadness shadowed his face. “That’s good news, at least. Do you think she’d mind if I called? I’d like to let her know I’m thinking about her.”

His words dissolved some of the anger she’d been allowing to surface toward him in regard to Kyndal. “I think she’d like that.”

“I’ll give her a call, then.” He straightened up and pulled out a business card, scribbled something on the back, and handed it to Kyndal. “If you ever need anything, Kyn, here’s my card. My cell number’s on the back.”

Kyndal nodded. “Thanks.”

She waved goodbye, and Jaci could see the strain as Kyndal forced her lips in a smile.

When they got onto the street, Jaci reached into the backseat, grabbed a box of tissues and tossed it into Kyndal’s lap. “I can see you’re in no condition to drive. We’re going to my house, and we’ll get your car later. Now tell me everything.”

Kyndal told her long, dramatic story all the way to Paducah, pain evident in her voice, though nothing like it had been those weeks after Chance broke up with her. Thinking about that time still made Jaci want to castrate him.

She and Chance were the only two people in the world Kyndal had ever fully trusted. When he betrayed that trust, Jaci had watched her best friend fall apart…and she’d been the one left to pick up the pieces.

She pulled the car into the garage and turned it off. They sat in silence while the garage door closed behind them.

She couldn’t bear to think about Kyndal going home to that sad little apartment tonight. Meeting up with Chance again had been bad enough, but doing it when she was out of a job went beyond rotten luck. Classic Kyndal. “You’re gonna stay here tonight.” She held up a hand to silence Kyndal’s protest. “And we’re gonna go out and end this day on a happy note.”

Kyndal shook her head. “I can’t afford it, Jaci. I have to keep an eye on everything I spend right now. I’m sure Mom’s going to want to leave this new jerk she’s with, and she’ll need gas money or bus fare to get home from wherever.”

Jaci had tired years ago of this person Kyndal called “mom” who was no mother at all, but always referred to herself as Mrs. Rawlings no matter who she was married to “to keep a strong connection to my baby girl.” Pffft! The only connection that woman cared about was the one that provided her public aid…and now Kyndal’s banking account, which was dwindling because of her.

“We’re not gonna argue about this, and we’re not gonna talk about your mom right now. Tonight’s my treat.” She turned to face Kyndal squarely, leaning against the driver’s

door. “What we are gonna talk about is this job you’re letting pass. You need this job, Kyn, and you need those pictures of the cave.”

She snatched Chance’s business card from the cup holder in the console and waved it in front of Kyndal’s face. “Meeting up with Chance again hurt your pride, I know, but the worst part’s over. It’s happened for a reason, and maybe that reason is to get you this job.” She laid the card on Kyndal’s lap where it nestled among the wadded mass of used tissues. “An opportunity has landed right in your lap. Call him.”