Page 100 of Shallow
Hell no. Bail will be toolate.
The bones in my hand crack as I pound my fist on the desk so hard he drops his phone. “I need to see her.Now.”
“Boss, come on,” Frankie urges, yanking me away by my other arm. “Nothing we can do rightnow.”
I pull away, never taking my eyes off the man in front of me. The only way I’m leaving is in handcuffs. “The hell there’s not. Just because this asshole won’t let us in doesn’t meanthat—”
“Now you just hold on a minute there, buddy,” the officer interrupts, wagging his finger in myface.
“Oh great,” a tired voice calls out from behind us. “A past-parolee surpriseparty.”
Frankie and I turn around and stare at the back of a familiar blond head as he turns to close the door on the other side of the room. His shoulders are hunched over as if the weight of the world is on them. If he’s coming from where I suspect he’s been, it’s not far from thetruth.
“Will!” Before he can fully turn around, I’m across the room with his wrinkled white shirt fisted in both hands. “You gotta get me back there to seeher.”
His face sags and he lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m afraid I can’t dothat.”
I’ve only seen that look once before. Ironically, it was in this same damn station. My dickhead attorney sat me down in the room Shiloh’s probably in right now and sighed just like Will did before telling me I wasscrewed.
Case closed. Gameover.
“Why the hell not?” I yell, tightening mygrip.
“Exactly how much power do you people think I have around here?” Letting out a frustrated grunt, Will shoves both hands against my chest until I stumble backward. “For fuck’s sake, Shiloh thinks I can call up a California judge, explain this all away, and they’ll give her a pass because I’m so goddamncharming.”
This is bad. I’ve never known Will to be anything but even keeled. If he’s this rattled, things are worse than Ithought.
I take a step back and run my palm over my mouth. “You saw Shiloh? Is she okay?” When he doesn’t answer, I raise my voice. “Will, is sheokay?”
“All things considered, yeah, she’s doing all right. Better than I’d be doing in her position.” He lets out a dull laugh and scratches the back of his neck. “That woman has nerves ofsteel.”
That’s my Shiloh. Masked and camera ready until the bitterend.
“How does itlook?”
“With the evidence and her confession? Notgood.”
“Why doesn’t she just fucking tell them the shit isn’t hers?” I growl, pacing a line in front ofhim.
“She’s protectingsomeone.”
I stop mid-pace and stare at him. He stares back, and the look that passes between us needs no further discussion. We both know thatsomeoneis Frankie, and by not implicating him, she’s sealed her fate. She’ll be convicted, sent back to California, and sentenced for her original crime, breaking the terms of her probation, and now a possession charge. I’ll lose her for good thistime.
I won’t let that happen. We both know who she’s protecting, but I know who set herup.
And I’ll sit beside Shiloh in jail before I let that bitch get away withit.
Thirty-Three
Shiloh
The next morning,Rory Mercer rakes his hands through what once was neatly combed reddish-brown hair and groans. With the ginger mop on his head and splattering of huge freckles along his cheeks, he reminds me of that California district attorney who tried to give me in thechair.
What was hername?
Ah, yes, Little BitchyAnnie.
I wonder if they’re related. Son of a bitch, if Barry sent Little Bitchy Andy to defend me, I’m going to rip off his balls and wear them asearrings.
