“Foster?”
His appearance at my apartment was a complete surprise.
“I need you to come down to the station.”
Oh no. “Is it Serena?”
“No. She’s fine.” He paused. “At least, I think she is. I haven’t seen her since this afternoon.” He waved his hands in front of his face, clearly frustrated. “That’s not why I’m here. Can you come down?”
My shoulders sagged. It was only Friday. I wasn’t supposed to have to deal with anything tonight. I blew out a breath. A lawyer’s work was never done.
“Sure.” I looked down at my clothes. Even though I knew the sheriff and all the deputies, I had probably better put something a little more professional on than sweats. “Give me two minutes to change, and then we can go.” I opened the door wider. “Do you want to come in?”
He shook his head. “No, I’d better get back there. Just come, please.”
I put my hand on his arm. Despite our differences, he was clearly upset.
“I promise I’ll be there. Give me seven minutes.” Two to change, five to drive.
Foster was still wound tight, but he looked a little relieved at my words. “Thank you.” He turned to go. “I’ll see you there.”
“Okay.” I started to close the door and then whipped it back open. “Wait. You never said who I’m representing.”
Foster was already on the stairs, and I couldn’t even see him, but he shouted something that sounded like, “My brother.”
I shook my head and closed the door to change. I guessed I would find out who had been arrested when I got there.
Seven minutes later, I marched into the sheriff’s office in black dress pants and a white blouse. I had grabbed pretty much the first thing I could find in my closet.
I headed straight for the front desk where Martha had worked for the last forty years. I usually didn’t even have to say why I was there because she knew I was showing up for whatever client was in jail.
Tonight was the same, except the sheriff himself came around the corner.
“Sheriff Whitlock, I heard you are holding my client. I would like to see him right away.” I hoped my client was actually a him, or I was going to look foolish.
Sheriff Whitlock crossed his arms over his chest. “Figures you’d be here, representing him.” He dropped his arms and shook his head. He turned and waved me forward. “This way. You know the drill.”
Even with the sheriff being friends with my father, he never really liked me much. I didn’t know if it was because I had dated Maddox or for some other reason, but he was a pompous jerk. I didn’t really care as long as he didn’t deny my clients their rights to a lawyer.
I walked in the back and saw Foster first.
“Oh, thank God.”
“Hey,” I said, putting my hand on his arm. “I told you I would come.”
Sheriff cleared his throat. “This way, Counselor. Your client is in interrogation one.”
I rolled my eyes as I walked past. Whitlock watched too many detective shows. They only had one “interrogation” room, and it was used more to let people cool off or sober up than it was to interrogate anyone.
We didn’t have much crime in Brook Creek.
Except for twelve years ago.
The sheriff turned the knob on the door and pushed it open but didn’t enter. I stood just outside to give him my usual spiel.
“Thank you. I’ll need a moment alone with my client.”
Whitlock smirked. “I bet you do.”
What is up with him tonight?
He had never been this rude to me.
He leaned closer to me. “Just so you know, we’ll be watching through the mirror.” He held up his hands before I could say anything. “We won’t have the sound on, but we’re going to be watching.” He pointed two fingers to his eyes and then one finger at me. “Understood?”
“Understood.” I gave him a fake smile. “May I see my client now?”
He stepped back and out of the doorway. “After you…Counselor.”
I held in my eye roll this time, stepping through the door where I immediately froze.
Standing in the corner was the last person I’d expected to see.
He wore black cargo pants, a gray T-shirt, and big boots that looked too hot and too heavy for summer. He was taller and broader, but I would recognize those green eyes anywhere. His long hair was gone, as was any love that I used to see in his face.
He stepped toward me. “Hello, Addy.”
“Hey, Maddox.”
Six
Maddox
I didn’t know who was more surprised—Addison or me.
I certainly hadn’t expected her to walk through the door. When Foster had told me that he was going to get a lawyer, I had been so surprised that Brook Creek had one that I didn’t even think to ask who the person was.
She turned around. “Please close the door,” she said to Whitlock, her voice firm and full of authority.
It wasn’t the only firm thing in the room.
Whitlock shot me a dirty look before closing the door, and Addison turned back around.
She gestured toward the table. “Can we please sit?”
I shrugged, pulled out the chair closest to me, and sat.
Addison did the same and took out a notebook and pen from her purse. She started writing things down, and I took the opportunity to study her. Her chestnut hair had been down to her ass in high school, but now, it was only a couple of inches past her shoulders. Her breasts strained against the top, and I was pretty sure they’d gotten bigger since I last saw her, which was saying something because she’d had a pretty impressive set of tits back then.
And I couldn’t see it now, but I had noticed her nice, round ass before she sat down. Her black pants were so tight that I was ninety-nine percent positive she was going commando or wearing a thong. No panty lines for Addison.
She looked up at me. “So, can you tell me what’s going on?”
“Foster picked me up from the airport. I was driving my brother’s car when I got pulled over. Next thing I knew, Whitlock was putting handcuffs on me.”
“What for?”
I scowled. “Fuck if I know. That asshole’s always had a hard-on for me.”
She sighed. “What was his reason? What did he tell you?”
I snorted. “That I was speeding.”
“Were you?”
“I was going fifty-eight in a fifty-five.”
“Anything else unusual?”
“Other than the fact that I was driving? No.”
“As I recall, you didn’t always follow traffic laws.”
Her comment had me thinking of all the times we’d driven around in my beat-up Chevy truck and the things we’d done in it besides driving. It seemed Addison was thinking the same thing.
I totally recognized the look on her face.
It was the same one she used to give me before she pulled down my pants and sucked my cock into her mouth.
I’d grown up around adults with loose morals, so it was no shock that I’d lost my virginity at fourteen to my mom’s friend’s daughter. She was sixteen when she came to my house, looking for her mother. Her mom and my mom had left twenty-four hours earlier to go on a bender.