Page 26 of Prohibited

“Walter Stanley.”

She froze, immobilized with surprise. Lips slightly parted, eyebrows slightly raised. Fear suffusing her features. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Slowly, she got to her feet and walked further into her cell, aimless as a sleepwalker.

“I’m not.” Lindsay shook his head, watching her move back and forth. Hypnotizing, the graceful rhythm of her body. So out of place in this dingy little cell.

“I knew one way or another he was going to be the end of me.” She said it with disbelief, anger. And such utter conviction. Did she love him? She turned to look at Lindsay and put her hands on her hips, a line etched between her brows. “What about Walter Stanley?”

“He killed someone very important to us.” Lindsay watched her face closely. For an instant, she looked like he’d struck her. Then her expression sealed itself up, replaced once again by anger. “Ryan and Alex want to pay him back for his… kindness.”

There was a pause. “But you don’t.”

“I don’t think being guilty by association is the same thing as being guilty, no,” he said.

“But you’re still going to let them lock me up.” Her anger was beginning to peak, whipping around her like a cloud of angry bees. And underneath it, a riptide of fear.

“Let them?” Lindsay raised his eyebrows. “As if I could stop them.”

She made a noise of disgust and turned away. “You could, you know.”

“I won’t.” He said it simply. As much as it pained him to see the path they’d chosen to take, he wouldn’t betray them. Ever.

She looked at him, eyes hard, and opened her mouth as if to say something. Then she closed it and turned away.

“Things could be easier, I think, if you start with giving them what you know about Walter Stanley.”

She laughed again, like he’d actually said something funny. “You’re out of your fucking mind. He would kill me. And probably my family.”

“And what if we killed you instead?” He watched her closely, clasping his hands around his knee.

She narrowed her eyes at him and stepped up to the bars of the cell. “Then you’d better go ahead and do it.”

Well, shit.

Lindsay sighed. “I hope you change your mind.”

“Go to hell,” she said.

“Have it your way.” Slowly, he stood and steadied himself. “Nice chatting.” Then, he turned away and limped toward the door.

“Wait!” she called after him. “Wait, goddammit! Tell Ryan I want to talk to him!” The tone in her voice was changing. Pleading. Fearful. “Please!”

Lindsay glanced back at her.

“I’ll be back,” he said. And shut the door behind him.

Faintly, he heard her swear through the door.

Chapter ten

Roberts

Police Lieutenant John Roberts parked his car outside of an unassuming diner on the West side of the river and scanned his eyes over the place. The building stood alone, with only a few cars in the gravel parking lot. It looked this side of abandoned and he hoped he hadn’t somehow gotten mixed up with the directions.

He let out a sigh and turned the engine off.

It was only noon and the heat of the day was already so oppressive that he was sweating through his suit. He pulled at his tie and swiped at his wrist across his forehead, wishing to God he could jump in the river, suit and all. Oklahoma was a hell pit in the summer, merciless the way the thick air clutched at every inch of his body. Even his lungs.

He climbed out of the car and smoothed his hair, then settled his black fedora on his head and walked across the gravel parking lot. He’d never been to this place before and though his stomach was growling with hunger, he eyed the front windows skeptically. It was dingy, poorlykept up. Why the hell were they meeting here? Sure, it was better not to meet at the police station all the time, but that didn’t mean they had to eat like possums out of a dumpster.

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