Unbridled and Untethered [The Double Rider Men's Club 10] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (8 page)

He nodded. “I’ll tell her if I happen to see her.” Clay didn’t even know if he’d see her. He expected her to come to the hospital but knew she had to answer questions for the police, too. He overheard on the initial news reports that the bank patrons and witnesses of the bank robbery had been taken to the hospital and then to the local police station to give statements.

Just then Clay’s phone buzzed. He checked the screen. It was Em’s private cell number. “Speak of the devil,” he said to himself.

“Hey, hotshot. Are you okay?”

“No, actually. I may be in a bit of trouble. I was hoping you might help me with something.”

Why on earth would she be in trouble?
“Whatever you need, Em. Just say the word.”

“Do you happen to know a good lawyer? One that could come to me right now at the police station?”

Clay blinked in surprise. “What do you need a lawyer for?” Beside him Luke turned and started paying close attention to the conversation.

“Well.” She paused and released a nervous laugh. “I fired a gun from inside a bank vault four times. Apparently, they frown on that.”

“You did that because you were shooting at a bank robber who was trying to kill Zeke and probably you next.”

“Yes. That’s true. However…” She paused again, as if she didn’t want to tell him a well-hidden secret. He scanned his memory of her past before the likely incident occurred to him.

It was a secret that Clay already knew, but that occasion shouldn’t matter here. Her quiet voice came through the line. “There was an incident from a couple of years ago where I discharged a weapon at someone in self-defense. Guess I only get
one
self-defense free shot before they think it’s a pattern or something.”

“Don’t talk to anyone else. Don’t answer any more questions.” Clay closed his eyes. “I’ll send a man by the name of Zachary Barrett to you within the hour. Don’t worry, Em. He’s the best lawyer I know.”

“Thanks, Clay. I owe you.”

Luke had been listening intently to his side of the conversation. “What the hell is going on?”

“Foolishness. I’ve got to go find Zachary and help my friend Em.”

“Anything I can do?”

“I’ll let you know. Keep me apprised of Zeke’s status.”

“Of course.”

Clay, phone in hand, thumb dialed Zachary as he headed to his vehicle. Once he answered, Clay gave him a quick rundown of what little he knew of Em’s current situation

Zachary was in good humor when he commented on Clay’s needing him for legal reasons. “Do you know that you are single-handedly and without equal the best source for my new-client referrals?”

“Very funny. Can you help me or not?”

“I’m walking out of my office right now. I’m only ten minutes away from the police station. I’ll meet you there. You paying her bond, if she needs it?”

“Yes. And thanks, Zachary.”

Clay drove toward the police station, keeping Zeke in the forefront of his mind as he then focused his split attention to help save Em from any unwarranted, rambunctious prosecution.

Emma Rae declined to make further comment after Detective Rollins demanded an answer about her past.

“Do I need a lawyer?”

“I don’t know, do you?” It was amazing that his demeanor had changed so quickly. In the space of a single conversation with a colleague, the detective had gone from concerned officer trying to understand and document her version of events during a horrendous bank robbery to accusatory and wanting her to defend something she was innocent of from her past.

“What if I decline to answer questions about my past?” Her tone of voice was light. She
really
didn’t want to discuss her history. It brought a whole host of unwanted fears and memories into her brain. She hated to remember the bad times from her life before moving to Ryder. Often they seeped into her nightmares. That was plenty.

“Then I’d have to wonder what you’re hiding.” The detective’s tone was not playful in the least. It was dead serious.

Emma Rae understood
all
about men like him. Mentally, her guard went up to the highest place possible. She crossed her arms as if it might protect her. “I’d like to make a phone call, please. I’d like to have my lawyer present.” She only wished she actually
had
a lawyer on call. But she didn’t.

The lawyer she’d used two years ago didn’t practice in this state, and he’d totally sucked as a reliable source of legal representation anyway. Then she remembered Clay. Her good friend. He’d help her, wouldn’t he?

The detective blustered for several minutes. “You don’t need to call anyone. We aren’t charging you. We just want to ask a few more questions.”

“I insist.” She’d been to court before. If she’d had any semblance of a good lawyer the last time, the case might not have gone on so long before she was acquitted of all charges. As she should have been in the first place and immediately. Decisions involving law enforcement often changed on a dime. She understood they often had to react quickly to thwart crime, but she wasn’t guilty. And she wasn’t going to be as cooperative as she’d been the last time. That scenario had ended with her in jail without bond.

After her quick phone call with Clay, less than half an hour later, an attractive, well-muscled, dark-haired man showed up to defend her with the announcement, “Hi, I’m Zachary Barrett. I’m here as your attorney to represent your interests. And for the record, I don’t think you’re in any jeopardy of arrest.”

“I appreciate that. But I don’t want any more surprise questions.” In the space of twenty minutes, Emma Rae told him the story of her past, the story of what happened at the bank, and the question the police wanted answered that had alarmed her. She also got him up to date on the line of questioning that had brought him here in the first place. The only thing she didn’t reveal was the kiss she’d shared with Zeke. She felt that was no one’s business but theirs.

Zachary listened intently as she explained about the former boyfriend who’d not wanted to end their relationship. The closet he’d locked her in for nearly forty hours to get her to change her mind. She gave a brief rundown on the dark, scary place that had been her short-term prison. She mentioned the huge black gun he’d had pointed at her when he finally freed her from seemingly endless captivity.

The mere memory of that door opening still sent her into screaming fits of terror during her sleep for the subsequent months afterward. She’d been half-blinded by the sudden blast of light after so long in the dark. She’d still scrambled out of the tight, dark space, taking a deep lungful of air, one after another, for the first few seconds of near freedom. Then she saw the gun aiming for her midsection and his finger already on the trigger. With her waning strength she’d pushed his arm away as he fired the gun. She narrowly missed being shot in the gut.

The short fight for her very life during that struggle for control of the gun and the resulting second discharge of the weapon would live in her nightmares forever. She hadn’t killed him, but she’d fearfully realized she had wanted him dead during and after the episode.

At the end of her explanation, Zachary patted her hand, told her not to worry, and called the short, squat redheaded detective back into the room so he could finish his questioning.

“The shooting incident from your past—” the detective who’d interrupted her first questioning said the moment he sat down.

“Is not even remotely relevant to this case,” Zachary said before she had even formed a response. “If you’d like to ask her questions regarding the incident at the bank today, fine. If not, we’ll be leaving.”

Detective Rollins returned to the room and sat beside his fellow detective and without further preamble asked, “Did you recognize any of the three gunmen who allegedly robbed the Ryder First National Bank today?”

Zachary nodded in her direction. She answered, “No. They wore masks, but none of them looked familiar to me at all.”

“Would you be able to identify any of them if you ever saw them again?”

She shrugged. “Possibly. The one who tried to rape me was paunchy around his middle and had a raspy smoker’s voice. I saw both of their faces when the EMTs arrived and took their masks off. The one who got shot in the vault by the paunchy guy was tall, skinny, and had a boyish voice.”

“What about the third man? The one you shot,” asked the other detective.

Zachary held his hand up. “Do you know for a fact that she shot him?”

The detective’s pinched expression wasn’t attractive. “Fine. I’ll rephrase my question, counselor. Miss Madison, do you know who the third gunman was?”

“No.” She fought the urge to growl. Was he accusing her of being involved?

Detective Rollins continued with his questions. “Any distinguishing marks that you can remember from any of the three men? Tattoos? Scars? Anything like that?”

Emma Rae was about to shoot off another quick negative response, when a slender slip of a memory came to her. Her focus had been on the gun he’d held and not on him. She’d raised the gun she held and prepared to fire. She’d been shaking so much she could hardly keep the gun in her hand.

The first pull of the trigger had sent a cold streak of terror down her body in memory of her previous experience. The next three shots were more about the reflex to scare him away rather than the intent to hit him. She’d opened her eyes right before he turned away and seen him in profile. The mask rode up, showing a significant swath of the skin on his neck. He
did
have a scar there.

The third gunman had a circular, uneven patch of skin on his neck. She allowed her memory of the incident in the vault to return.

“He had a circular scar on his neck between the collar of his coveralls and where the black mask had rode up to his jaw.”

“Really?” He made a note in his book. “Describe it. How big was it?”

Emma Rae shrugged. “Maybe the size of a nickel or slightly larger. It was a white scar against his tanned skin. I thought it looked like a burn mark. Maybe it was a cigar burn.” She shrugged again. “I don’t know.” She felt it was odd to remember something she hadn’t considered before. Something she hadn’t really remembered until being pushed.

Detective Rollins asked a few more questions about her timeline leading up to when the local police found her in the vault with three unconscious men, two of them shot and one beat all to hell.

“Do you have anything to add? Anything else you remember about the robbery?” he asked.

“No.”

The other detective opened his mouth to speak, but a harsh glare from Detective Rollins shut his lips quickly. He didn’t look happy to have been thwarted but didn’t say anything further before getting up and leaving the room.

Detective Rollins glanced at Zachary and finally excused himself with a parting comment over one shoulder. “Please don’t leave the local area without letting us know. We may have further questions before this case is resolved.”

Zachary winked at her. “My client is delighted to help in any way she can with
this
case.” The door shut on his comment. Emma Rae was so relieved it was over for now.

“Thank you. I would have freaked out if you hadn’t been here.”

“Honestly, I didn’t do that much. But let me know if you need me again.” Zachary gave her his business card and told her today’s fee was waived before she’d gotten the nerve to ask how much an hour’s worth of
his
time cost.

Clay was waiting for her right outside the front doors of the police station. He and Zachary shook hands before her new, awesome lawyer excused himself.

Emma Rae wasn’t sure how to show her extreme gratitude. It was a bit out of character for her, but she tossed caution out the door and advanced forward. She threw her arms around Clay’s waist and buried her face in his firm chest, holding on tight to express her unyielding gratitude. Trying not to weep after the long day she’d had was a lost cause. She failed and sobbed quite a few times against her friend.

Clay didn’t say a word, which she was thankful for. Instead, he put his arms around her and held her loosely until she completed her appreciation. He had to be over a foot taller than she was, and likely they looked a little odd smashed together, but she didn’t care. She was so relieved at the outcome of the day and Clay’s vital participation.

When Emma Rae got herself together, she stepped away from Clay’s body without any further crying or sniffing. She tilted her head back and looked up at him. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough, Clay. You really came through for me. The best I can do is say that your next service call is on me. Night or day. Rain or shine. I’m in your debt.”

“Not necessary, but I appreciate the gesture.” He looked over his shoulder at the parking lot. “Want a ride someplace? Do you have your car?”

“My car’s probably still at the bank. I’d take a ride there, but first, how is Zeke doing? I haven’t heard anything since he was taken away in the ambulance unconscious.”

“He made it through surgery. Last I heard, they were guarded. He never regained consciousness after being shot, but they are optimistic he’ll make a full recovery once he wakes up. I can take you to the hospital if you feel up to it, but I’m not sure if they’ll let any visitors in yet.”