Page 22 of Sawyer
“Fuck, Half-Pint. I’m sorry. That must have been hard.”
Understatement of the year. She blinked back her tears. “Yeah. I didn't feel like leaving home to go to college. Hector was the one who convinced me to get my degree online, so that's what I did. I graduated two years later, just before my 20th birthday. I was actually at the top of my class. Big companies all over the country were interested in having me come work for them.”
“Of course they did. And whoever you chose was lucky to get you on their team.”
How had someone so nice... a Daddy no less… come into her life? He was perfect.
“That’s really sweet of you to say.”
“It may be sweet, but it’s also true. So, which company did you choose?”
She wished she had something happier to tell him. “I never got to accept any of those offers. That’s the summer I was arrested.”
CHAPTER 9
Sawyer had just settled back on the couch when she spoke. At her words, he bolted to his feet. “Arrested? What the hell?” This was tough. He knew she’d been arrested, but he had to play the part. Even so, the way she spoke so casually jarred him.
Everything in him wanted to gather her up, sit her in his lap, and hug her close. To shield her from the pain of her memories and the danger that might be in her future. Never in his life had he thought about grabbing a mark and leaving. Disappearing into the night, leaving all her problems behind.
The problem was, somewhere in the past few weeks, Lele had stopped being the mark and become his Half-Pint. But he would never do that to Jaxon. His brother had suffered long enough. Sabre had been working for six years to reach this point. And even though he was starting to have serious second thoughts about what they thought had happened, he had to see it through.
“Oh, you know. Same song, second verse," she said in a sing-song voice.
Sawyer did his best not to scowl. Why was she trying to makelight of it? That day six years ago might be many things— a young girl’s hoax, a powerful man cleaning up his shit, or a tragedy. The one thing it wasnotwas funny. A man’s life had been destroyed.
Catching his bottom lip between his teeth, he forced himself to calm down. He was close to the truth. He could feel it.
Trying to keep the frustration from his voice, he said, “I’ve never been one to think being arrested was a laughing matter. Now, I want you to tell me what happened without the catchy phrases, little girl. Why were you arrested?”
Lele’s cheek turned bright red. “Sorry, it’s a nervous habit. I don’t like to talk about it.”
“I get that, Half-Pint. It doesn’t sound like a happy memory. But you can’t just drop something like that in the conversation and not explain what happened.”
Nodding, she took a deep breath. “About nine months before I graduated from college, my car, though at the time I didn’t know it was mine, was used to deliver a large amount of fentanyl to the home of an FBI agent who had gone rogue while he was working on a drug trafficking case.”
Sawyer burned to interrupt her and ask questions, but there would be time for that after she got it all out.
“The agent, um, Special Agent Jaxon Ruick, was accused of using the connections he’d made while supposedly trying to help with the War on Drugs to get into the drug trafficking trade himself. The crazy thing was, the prosecutors had pictures of what looked like my car parked in his driveway.
She took a deep, shuddering breath. “It was scary, and hard, and awful. The most awful thing outside the death of my parents that I hope I ever face.”
Lele shrank into herself at the memories, and the need to get her in his lap so he could comfort her grew stronger.
“I had to testify at the trial that I knew for a fact it wasn't my car. The prosecuting team said if I hadn’t driven there, that meantthe car could have belonged to the drug traffickers they’d been keeping tabs on.”
“And you’re sure your car never left your drive? Could someone have stolen it to deliver the drugs and then parked it back in the same spot?” So much for holding back his questions.
The color drained from her cheeks, but she shook her head. “That’s my worst nightmare ever since. But it couldn’t have been my car. I got a horrible case of food poisoning that weekend. I had to go to the doctor to get medicine. I was sick for three days. My house is so small, I could look out of the front window and see my car in the driveway every time I went to the bathroom. Which was a lot. My car didn’t leave my driveway. Besides, I have the only key.”
“Are you sure someone couldn’t have taken it between the times you got up?”
She shook her head. “Hector came by and checked on me so many times while I was sick. He saw my car in the driveway every time. So, between the times I saw my car and the times Hector saw my car, I swore under oath I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt it was there.”
Even though he knew this story as well as she did, he sat up straighter and frowned. “You swore, under oath, to something you didn’t see? Why would you do that?”
She gave up on holding back the tears. One of the hardest things he’d ever had to watch was the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Hold on a second,” he said. Pushing to his feet, he looked for a box of tissues, eventually settling for a roll of toilet paper.
She blew her nose, then looked around for a place to put the used tissue.
