LITMIR.BIZ

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hands trembled. The cell was maybe fifteen by fifteen, boasting a narrow cot with a thin wool blanket. That was it. No toilet. No window. Nothing but this claustrophobia-inducing little space, illuminated by a single bulb dangling from the ceiling.

      “I’m sorry,” Anna added.

      Sucking in a shaky breath, Sarah willed up some courage and forced herself to walk into the cell, head high. She only prayed that the criminal lawyer whose name she’d picked at random from the yellow pages showed up soon.

      When she was on the other side of the bars, Anna dragged the door closed, and both women flinched as she locked it into place. “The sheriff will be down soon,” the young woman finished in a strained voice.

      Tell him not to bother.

      Sarah swallowed down the bitter retort, then watched as the deputy hurried across the cement floor in the corridor. Her footsteps faded, and then Sarah was alone.

      In jail.

      She sat on the cot and reached up to rub away the tears pooling in her eyes. How could anyone think she’d killed Teresa? No matter what those damn DNA results said, she hadn’t been in Teresa’s house the night she died. She’d never been in that woman’s house.

      So why did the evidence indicate she was there?

      It was a question she’d been asking herself ever since Finn showed up at the gallery earlier, but so far, the answer continued to elude her. Well, not quite. The answer was actually simple: someone was framing her.

      But that only raised a whole slew of new questions. First and foremost—what the hell?

      She didn’t consider herself Ms. Popularity or anything, but people in town liked her. Even after her breakdown, most of the folks stood by her, offered their support during her struggle.

      Not all of them, a voice laced with hostility pointed out.

      That’s right. One person had no problem leaving her to face it alone.

      As if his ears had been burning, Finn suddenly appeared in front of the bars. When she noticed the anguish creasing his handsome features, all she could think was too little too late. He could look as devastated as he wanted, act as concerned as he felt like, but she didn’t need his damn support. He hadn’t given it to her when it actually mattered, and she had no use for it now.

      “The lawyer you called just phoned,” Finn said gruffly. “He’ll be here in two hours.”

      Two hours?

      She willed away a fresh batch of tears. Okay. Two hours. She could do this.

      “Thanks for letting me know,” she said in a clipped voice.

      She expected him to walk away, but he stayed rooted in place, studying her through the narrow bars.

      “What?” she snapped.

      “I just … are you okay in there?”

      She gawked at him. “Are you serious? Do I look like I’m okay?”

      Finn shifted, looking utterly miserable. His unmistakable turmoil did nothing to soothe her. Just being in the same room as this man brought back unwelcome memories, lingering pain that she’d tried desperately to overcome. It didn’t help that he was as gorgeous as ever, with those piercing blue eyes and scruffy black hair. The broad, muscular body that used to send a thrill up her spine, the roped arms that once brought her solace.

      Patrick Finnegan had been the love of her life, the only man to ever have a complete and total claim on her heart.

      But then he’d gone and broken that heart. Crushed it between his big, strong fingers, leaving her to drown in sorrow. Alone.

      She hadn’t thought she’d ever recover from Finn’s betrayal. Hadn’t thought she’d ever be able to regain the capacity to love again. But she’d survived. Let go of the trauma of the past, became strong, stable, capable. And now she had Lucy, the beautiful baby girl she adored, who’d changed her entire life and gave her a sense of peace and fulfillment.

      Oh, God, Lucy!

      “What is it, Sarah?”

      She’d forgotten he was still standing there, and when she lifted her head, she saw the alarm washing across his rugged face.

      “Lucy,” she burst out, fear wrapping around her throat like a boa constrictor. “The day care closes at four. What time is it now?”

      Finn glanced at the utility-style watch on his wrist. “One-thirty.”

      Her lawyer wouldn’t show up for two hours, and even then, he might not be able to get her out of here in time.

      “I … I need to call the center,” she said, urgency lining her tone. “Maybe Maggie can take Lucy home with her when the day care closes. Or maybe …”

      She trailed off, her terror amplifying. What if Maggie called social services when Sarah told her where she was? The owner of the day care might be gentle and kindhearted, but she probably wouldn’t be pleased to hear that the mother of her three-month-old charge was locked up. Maggie had mentioned during their initial interview that she had a legal duty to inform child welfare if the kids under her supervision weren’t being taken care of.

      Sarah had only adopted Lucy three months ago, and it had been an arduous two-year process. Financially, she’d been in a good position to raise a child, what with the handsome inheritance she’d received from her aunt and the prosperous art gallery she owned and ran. But her history with depression had raised a red flag at the adoption agency. Sarah had endured dozens of home interviews, therapy sessions and surprise visits from her caseworker before finally being approved for the adoption.

      But if social services were called … they would take Lucy away from her. God, she couldn’t let that happen. She’d waited two long years for Lucy—she refused to have her baby snatched out of her arms, not after everything she’d gone through in order to have the chance of being a mother.

      She leaped off the cot and practically launched herself at the bars, wrapping both hands around the cold steel. “You need to do something for me,” she whispered.

      Finn’s expression darkened with suspicion. “What do you need?”

      “Bring Lucy here.”

      He balked. “What? No way, Sarah. I can’t bring a baby to lockup!”

      “Please,” she begged. “Please do this. If I tell Maggie what’s going on, she’ll have to inform social services. They’ll take my baby, Finn!”

      Tears spilled down her cheeks, and her hands begun to shake, vibrating against the metal bars. “Just bring her here, and then we can figure out what to do with her.”

      Suddenly Finn’s large hands were covering her own, his warmth seeping into her cold, white knuckles. “Sarah. Sarah. Calm down.”

      She realized her breathing had become shallow, as her head spun dizzily from the panic coursing through her blood. She was also aware that this was the first time Finn had touched her in four years, and as her heart rate slowed and she regained her senses, she yanked her hands away and pressed them to her sides.

      She couldn’t let him touch her. Physically, or emotionally. Just being around him sent her back to that dark place, the hole she’d fallen into after he’d abandoned her.

      “The mayor would have my head if he found out I brought a baby here,” Finn mumbled, averting his eyes. “I can’t do it, Sarah.”

      “Please,” she said again. “I’ll call Maggie and tell her that I’m giving permission for Anna to pick up Lucy from day care. I’ll say I’m tied up at work. I’ll find somebody to leave her with, maybe …” A thought entered her mind. “Jamie. Jamie can take her home with her until I get out of here.”

      “That could work,” Finn said grudgingly.

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