“Your father really came through, Elle,” Larry added gently, knowing I struggled with how my loving Dad could suddenly become so judgmental. “It’s his friend who rearranged his time. Patrick Blake. I don’t know if another case fell through or if he’s taken on some extra hours, but he’s granted us the hearing. God knows how he arranged for a twelve-seat jury to be ready in time, but he has.”
Shaking travelled down my arm, making the phone thawk against my ear. “That’s—I don’t know what to say.”
I wanted to run back to the brownstone and kiss my father stupid. I’d make him blueberry pancakes and apologize for being distant. I’d forgive the grudge I’d held for him for accepting Penn when he was an upstanding businessman and then shoving him into the shadows the moment he was arrested.
The fact that we hadn’t been as close these past few weeks hurt.
“What happens now?” My voice wobbled. “What do you need me to do?”
Larry sighed heavily, sounding as exhausted as I was. “Well, I’ll work extra hours on gathering the last few bits of evidence against Arnold Twig and his delightful son. In the trial, I’ll use that to point direction at the true criminal and show the jury that Penn was innocent of those crimes, just as he’s innocent of this one. With any luck, we’ll be able to link it all into one, expunge Penn’s prior convictions, and get the charges dropped.”
“And if that’s not entirely true?”
“What’s not true?”
“Well, technically, he did hurt Greg. The hospital took photos, and Greg’s moaning ensured a lot of people heard what happened. It’s his word against Penn’s.”
“That only shows there was a fight.” His tone turned sharp. “Penn didn’t go to that cabin to kill Greg. The attempted murder charge will be easy to overthrow.”
“How so?”
“There’s no evidence whatsoever of intent or premeditation. No paper trail to link Penn to any prior thoughts of violence toward your employee.”
There wasn’t, but I didn’t trust the law not to look into hearsay and find hard truth where there was none.
“They had a fight.” Larry sniffed. “Two men in a fight over a woman. Shit, if the state locked up everyone for that misdemeanor, most of the male population would be behind bars.”
Larry chuckled in frustration. “Greg was in the wrong for indecently assaulting you and holding you against your will. If he continues to say Penn went there to kill him, I’ll personally go after him so hard, he’ll be laughed out of court and be done for defamation and lying under oath. If there’s anyone with premeditation and a paper trail, it’s Greg. The packed supplies, the second vehicle—it all paints a picture of dishonorable intentions.”
An icy gale blew down my spine like it always did when I thought about Greg.
I hated that he hadn’t gotten in touch. The fact he’d gone from a patronizing presence—constantly popping into my office uninvited—to suddenly being completely elusive and silent...
It petrified me.
I’d told Larry what I’d done at the hospital—trying to bribe then blackmail him. He’d scolded me. Said how reckless I’d been. But after grilling me if there’d been anyone else in the room or any recording devices, he’d patted me on the back with pride.
The fact I’d put my neck on the line for Penn made his fondness for me triple. This entire stressful situation surrounding the man we both loved had brought us closer together than any normal situation.
Larry was the uncle I’d never had. My father-in-law, for all intents, if Penn ever did anything about our fake engagement.
“Okay.” The word was woefully underwhelming, but I had nothing else. I thought I’d be able to save Penn months of lock-up when we’d first begun this journey. The fact he was still imprisoned irritated me to angry tears.
Being part of the family dealing with freeing innocence was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do. Turned out, I sucked at this hero stuff while Penn was such a natural.
“Tell me what I should do, Larry.”
“I hoped you’d say that,” he replied. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Nothing, why?” I looked up as Fleur came into my office. She carried a bottle of wine with two glasses. Ever since the afternoon I’d spoken to the reporters, she appeared at the end of our workday with alcohol of some description—ready-mixed watermelon vodka, Midori shots, even champagne.
I’d told her I didn’t drink.
She’d told me I would have to start to survive the next few months.
I hadn’t argued.
We’d gotten drunk that night, and for the first time in forever, I was able to laugh even though guilt slithered inside me. I despised that I had a good time with Fleur, that my job kept me busy, my cat kept me sane, and my self-control kept me rational enough not to become a serial killer and hunt Arnold Twig or his son.
It was wrong that I lived while Penn was caged.
She cocked an eyebrow as Larry spoke into my ear. “Come over. I’ll be pulling an all-nighter. Need an assistant if you’re interested.”
The wine bottle in Fleur’s hand would remain untouched. “Consider me there already.”
A smile existed in his tone. “Excellent. Stewie will be relieved to see you. He wants to apologize.”
“Apologize? Why?”
“He finally told me what happened with the necklace at the charity event after he acted so weird around you the last time you popped over. He’s not coping well. Thinks he’s the reason why Penn is in jail like his brother, Gio.”
I rubbed at my heart. “Oh no, it’s not his fault.”
“Yep, all the more reason to come around. You can talk to him. I’ll brew a pot of coffee. See you soon, Elle.”
“Sure.” I hung up, looking reluctantly at the alcohol in Fleur’s grasp. “Can’t. Have to go do lawyer stuff to break Penn out of jail.”
“Oh, sounds fun.” She waggled the bottle. “Any room for this bad boy and me to tag along?”
I stroked Sage as she padded over my desk and hooked her claws around the stem of one of the wine glasses. She tipped it over before I could catch it. Luckily, the glass bounced on the carpet and didn’t shatter.
“Why would you want to come? It’s just more work. More computer time. More fine print.” I stood, slinging my black with pink-lace jacket on over the dark pink dress I wore. Pink didn’t spring to mind as corporate, but once again, Fleur picked it out and was right.
“Well, my hubby-to-be is out on a bachelor night with friends. I don’t want to sit at home wondering if he’s motor boating some stripper’s boobs.” She pulled a face. “I’d much rather be sitting with you doing exciting things like researching how to break your lover out of jail. It’s all very cloak and dagger.” Her eyes twinkled as if spending a night bent over paperwork was as raunchy as watching the Chippendales.
“Well, if you’re sure.” I smiled. “You’re more than welcome, and I’d love the company. I’m sure Larry would say we need all the eyes we can get.” I took the wine from her and placed it in my large tote. “And for the record, your hubby won’t have his face in some stripper’s boobs.”