Chapter Twenty-Five
Crawford County Jail
Nate had learned a lot of disassociating skills throughout his life.
There wasn’t a bad situation he couldn’t remove himself from entirely.
He’d suffered through plenty, after all.
Worse than this, really. His own father beating him.
Running away with no shelter, no food, and no one.
Hell, he’d spent big chunks of his twenties being under constant threat of death in foreign lands.
A jail cell should be smooth sailing, all in all.
And still, he felt this was more of a struggle than any of those times. Because everything had been bad then. Survival had been some natural inclination, not any specific choice he’d made hoping for something better to come from it. Shit had just felt like more of the same.
Well, now he’d found a whole lot of better for his life. A better he’d much rather be enjoying right now than sitting in this gray little room waiting for Cal to appear on the other side of some plexiglass.
His leg hurt. Nothing serious, just a vague ache from the uncomfortable mattress and surroundings, but enough to be annoying.
He missed Sam, and that ache was deeper and harder to deal with.
He just wanted to be able to talk to her.
Just wanted that comfort he’d taken for granted of knowing she was there.
He knew he could get through this—would for her if nothing else—but the unknown of how long it would drag on was more difficult now than it had been in the army.
Probably because now he had a life he wanted to get back to. A life that felt like it was slipping through his fingers. All because he’d taken a case a few months ago and tried to help an annoying woman prove her husband was a cheating liar.
Or was it more than that? Had Jake Hayes really orchestrated this whole thing? Even knowing Cal and Sam were leaning in that direction, Nate couldn’t fully accept it.
He heard the door to the other room open, then Cal appeared. Cal lowered himself onto the chair in the room opposite Nate. Nate studied his brother through the divider that separated them and knew there was nothing positive to be gleaned from this meeting.
“So, what’s the news?” Nate asked before Cal could speak. “Not good, I take it.” If he started with that, maybe Cal wouldn’t beat around the bush.
“You got bad news just from me sitting down?”
“You look tired.”
Cal rubbed a hand over his chin. “Yeah, well.” He let out a long, tired breath.
“Discovery has been pushed back until next week, so I’m still working in the dark.
That being said, we did … find out a piece of evidence they’re using against you.
According to Hayes, one of the Bennet pocketknives was found at the scene of the murder. ”
Nate sat up straight, despite the pain that shot down his leg. “I have mine. It’s at the house. I—”
“Yeah, Sam told … the police that. So far it hasn’t budged them any.”
Nate slumped back in his uncomfortable chair. So much for hope.
“Be that as it may, and as disappointing as it might be for the time being, it’s still a big deal. Especially since the only pocketknife we know of that isn’t with its owner is the one the police fished out of the creek last year.”
Nate frowned, trying to make sense of that. “But no one ever claimed it. Did they?”
Cal shook his head slowly. “No, no one did. So, as far as we know, the knife has been in police custody since last year.”
“Police custody.” The police… “So, you’re telling me anything you find keeps pointing at Hayes being a bigger and bigger part of this?”
“It’s certainly not exonerating him from any suspicion.” Cal said that in his careful, lawyer way, which made Nate think there was more Cal wasn’t telling him.
But he was so stuck on Jake Hayes, he couldn’t focus on that just yet.
“I never did anything to the fucking guy,” he said earnestly. “What the hell could this possibly even be about?”
“We’re still looking for a connection between Jules Hyatt and Hayes.
There are still a lot of unknowns, which is annoying, but at some point, they’ll have to be known.
The prosecution can’t put off discovery forever, and Hayes can’t hide who the responding officer was, nor will he be able to refuse the witness stand.
And if we can find a way to prove the knife was missing from police custody before they recovered it at the scene, that’s something. ”
Nate didn’t say anything, but the fact Cal was talking about a trial meant he was looking at … months in this jail cell. At best.
He tried to accept that. Life itself was a trial. Why couldn’t he stand to suffer for a few months? Sure, he’d been through e-damn-nough, but when did the universe concern itself with such things?
Besides, he didn’t matter. What mattered was that Sam was okay. He inhaled.
Focusing on Sam was like an anchor. “Has Sam been approved for visits yet?” He knew she’d want to visit, but maybe he could convince her not to come.
But, God, he wanted to see her. Just sit here and talk for five minutes about nothing at all. Which was selfish.
“No. She was going to come rattle some cages today, but…” Cal trailed off.
Concern and worry had Nate leaning closer to the plexiglass. “But what?”
“She’s got a lead to follow. Nothing for you to worry about.”
Nate laughed bitterly. “When it comes to Sam, I’m fucking worried, Cal.”
“Yeah, well…” Cal shook his head. “Hell, you probably should be. But there’s no talking her out of anything, so you’re just going to have to deal with it.”
Which would be fine if he weren’t stuck here. “Cal. If she’s up to something stupid, you have to stop her. You can talk her out of something. You just have to find the right angle. Use those lawyer tricks. Don’t let her get herself into trouble over this.”
“She’s just investigating,” Cal said, not doing a good job of hiding how tired he still sounded. Or how frustrated he clearly was with Sam. “She’s just doing what we’re all doing.”
“Which is?”
“Nate. We’re all doing everything we can think of to get you out of here. Your only job is to survive this moment. Focus on that.”
But how could he possibly do that when people were out there… “Listen, I don’t want anyone risking anything for me.”
Cal’s expression sharpened then. “Why the fuck not?”
Surprised at the vehemence and a little chastened by it, Nate shrugged. “It’s just not necessary.”
It was Cal’s turn to lean toward the divider between them. He spoke low and certain and with a kind of anger Nate didn’t fully understand.
“You have people who love you, brother. I’d get used to that before you get out of here. Because we are going to get you out of here. And letting people love and help you is part of loving them.”
He wasn’t wrong. It was hard to accept, but Cal wasn’t wrong. He was also the pot calling the kettle black.
“When are you going to apply that lesson to yourself?”
For the briefest second, Cal looked utterly arrested. But he quickly blinked it away. “Let’s get you out of here before we worry about me learning any lessons, huh?”
Nate sighed, leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
Getting out of here seemed more farfetched by the day.