29

Josh kept his head down as he ate lunch, a reminder of his college cafeteria days. He’d survived the first night in the general population, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to stay out of trouble. He’d observed several prisoners watching him, circling like vultures, as if they were looking for an opportunity to take him down when the guards weren’t looking. Maybe it was just his overactive imagination, but the steady feed of adrenaline that had kept him awake most of the night had left him exhausted. The reality was, he was convinced he wasn’t just paranoid. A confrontation wasn’t a matter of if, but when.

He wanted to believe that someone from the precinct would decide to dig deeper into the case. Or that Eddie would discover a compelling piece of evidence that would once and for all prove his innocence. But he knew he couldn’t depend on either of those things happening. Someone had framed him for murder—someone with the resources to do so—and with all the evidence pointing toward him, he wasn’t sure anymore that there even was a way out.

He ate another bite of his bologna sandwich, purposefully avoiding eye contact with anyone except for his new cellmate, Snyder, who sat across from him. He needed to avoid being alone, but socializing didn’t seem like a good idea. He knew he needed to keep his head down and stay out of trouble, which hadn’t been difficult to do so far. His cellmate was anything but talkative, but at least he’d been decent enough to sit with Josh at meals and answer his questions—primarily about who to watch out for and how to stay out of trouble.

Josh dropped his half-eaten sandwich back on the tray, not sure he could force himself to finish it. “Got someone waiting for you on the outside?”

“Like a girlfriend?”

Josh nodded.

“Nah. She left me months ago. Didn’t like the idea of a felon for a boyfriend.” Snyder shoved the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth. “What about you?”

“No. No one’s waiting for me.”

Josh tried to push away the image of Caitlyn that surfaced, but he couldn’t get her out of his mind. He had no idea where she was. He still had no idea if she’d actually been arrested, or if she’d managed to run. Either way, he missed that smile of hers that had managed to make its way into his heart, grab on, and refuse to let go. He’d decided that if this wasn’t the end—if he did manage to get out of here alive—he was going to tell her how he felt.

But there wasn’t time to think about how she’d captured his heart. All that really mattered right now was finding a way to make sure she was safe. Whether or not the authorities had found her, he was pretty certain everything they’d told him was nothing more than lies and scare tactics. But that didn’t keep him from worrying. If they could continue using her to get to him, they would. He’d made Eddie promise he’d find out the truth about where she was, knowing he couldn’t do anything to help her while he was sitting in prison.

Two inmates sat down at their table on either side of him. He felt their stares as he picked his sandwich back up.

“Rumor is you’re a cop,” one of them said before taking a drink.

“Not sure where you heard that.” Josh shrugged off the comment. “I’m not looking for trouble. All I want to do is serve my time and get out of here.”

“Don’t we all, but if you’re not a cop, maybe you’re a snitch—”

Josh caught his gaze. “Seems to me that would be even worse. I’m not that stupid.”

“Leave him alone.”

Snyder defending him surprised him, but he was grateful. The last thing he needed at this point was for anyone to find out he was a cop. While he was being processed, he’d convinced himself that the chances of running into someone he’d incarcerated were slim, but he couldn’t dismiss the fact that he was a detective who’d put criminals away.

But what scared him the most was that he’d always been a defender of justice and the legal system. He knew there were flaws in the system and those who weren’t in it to fight for justice, but now he’d been caught in this nightmare scenario and he couldn’t find a way out.

They’d all been right. The detectives and his lawyer. The judge had deemed him a flight risk, and because of the severity of his suspected crimes, he’d been ordered to remain in custody until his trial. Eddie had promised he’d fight the decision, but Josh knew it wouldn’t make a difference. Whoever was pulling the strings had a tight grip on the case. He wasn’t going anywhere.

He glanced at the men who’d started harassing him, who now seemed to have already lost interest in him. But it was a reminder of just how alone he was. He didn’t want to know what his family’s reaction would be. His mom had never liked the idea of him being a cop and had told him more than one time that she wished he’d move back to Kansas and run the farm with his father. At least she wasn’t alive to get the news that her son was in prison. He had no idea what this news was going to do to his father.

Snyder stood and picked up his tray. “I’m heading to the yard.”

He grabbed his own tray. “I’ll come with you.”

Josh followed Snyder, realizing just how much he’d taken his life—and freedom—for granted until it was all stripped away. He missed his morning run. Even missed Houston traffic and waiting in line for his morning coffee. Things he’d always complained about. Right now, he’d do anything to be fighting traffic at the I-10 and I-45 interchange. Instead he was fighting for his life.

Someone came at him from around the corner, a sharp right jab to his rib cage, then a second punch to his nose before he could even react. He looked up to see the inmates who’d sat down next to him at lunch. Josh struggled to catch his balance as Snyder deserted him and hightailed it to the yard. Years of training kicked in and he responded by slamming his fist into the second man’s throat. He could hold them off for a while, but the odds were against him taking down both of them. He ducked again as the man came at him with a shiv, then struck the shorter man’s nose with his elbow and heard the crack of cartilage, before ramming his fist into the man’s rib cage. He fought to catch his breath as he shifted his feet, trying to outmaneuver the two men who came at him from both sides.

He hit the ground with a thud and rolled over, anticipating another blow.

It never came.

Josh opened his eyes. One of the guards hovered over him.

“Get up and come with me now.” He offered his hand, then nodded toward the empty corridor. “You need to get as far away from this mess as possible.”

Josh winced at the wave of pain shooting through his right side as he followed the guard down the corridor. His eye was starting to swell shut, but he wasn’t going to argue with the man. He stepped over the two guys who’d attacked him, both passed out on the ground.

“You gave those guys a run for their money,” the man said, “but there’s a price out on your head. You won’t last another twenty-four hours in here, and I might not be here to save you the next time.”

Josh wiped the blood off his lip with the back of his hand as they stepped inside the laundry room. He didn’t think anything was broken, but he was going to be sore for a few days. And at least the other two hadn’t gotten away unscathed.

“Why would you help me?”

“I have my own reasons.”

Josh studied the uniformed guard. He looked familiar, but he couldn’t place him. Six foot two, maybe three, two hundred thirty-plus pounds, who clearly spent his free time at the gym. The kind of guy he definitely wanted on his side. But what he didn’t understand was why he would come to his rescue.

The man folded his arms across his chest. “We’ve got about sixty seconds until someone notices I’m talking to you, but I can help you out of this mess.”

“I still don’t understand why you’d want to do that. You could lose your job.”

The man’s expression softened. “You saved my life three years ago.”

It took a second for Josh to pull up the name from his memory. “You’re Reagan Bray.”

The man nodded. “I was a beat cop working the streets at the time. There was an ambush and you and your partner showed up and saved me.”

Josh glanced behind him at the bins of laundry and industrial-size washers. They were running out of time. “I’m being set up.”

“I believe you, because someone clearly wants you dead. If you were guilty, why would someone want to keep you quiet?”

“I wish you could help me, but I’ve been denied bail. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You need to get out of here before they kill you, and I have a plan.”

“To get me . . . out?” Josh hesitated, his mind spinning. Surely he wasn’t about to contemplate escaping. “If they find out, you’ll lose everything.”

“Then we better make sure no one finds out.”

Escape.

He still couldn’t say the word out loud. He was the one who followed the law and sent guys to prison. He still wanted to believe the system would work. That justice would prevail. It was why he did what he did.

“How?”

“The less you know, the better.”

The decision was easier than he thought. “What do I need to do?”

A couple inmates were walking toward them. “We’re out of time. Go to the yard or sit and watch TV, I don’t care, but keep your head down. Make sure there are people around you. I’ll give you a signal once I’m ready.”

Josh left through the side door, then slipped into the dayroom, where a couple dozen men were watching a flat-screen TV or reading. He prayed he hadn’t somehow called attention to himself. Prayed he didn’t look as terrified as he felt. A week ago, he never would have imagined he’d be staring at some mindless reality show. There was no sign of Snyder. No sign of anyone familiar, but that was fine. He sat down in a plastic chair and gazed at the screen, attempting to look interested.

This was insane.

He reached up and touched his nose, thankful it had stopped bleeding, but his body ached all over. He had no idea what he’d do if he ended up running into the thugs who’d done this and decided to finish the job. Bray had been right. He might not have anyone come to his rescue a second time. Which was why he was still contemplating the risk. But if he couldn’t trust the system, what was his alternative? Either way, he was probably going to die. If he stayed, he was certain to. If he did manage to get out alive, then what? Quinton was dead. He didn’t know where Caitlyn was, and they still had no idea who was behind this. No idea who to trust . . .

Another show came on, but he wasn’t paying attention. A couple dozen more inmates had filed into the room. Most seemed bored, staring at the TV like he was. There was no way he could do this day in and day out.

Someone handed him a magazine. “There’s a good article on chess in there.”

“Thanks.” Josh flipped open the magazine and found the page. A message had been scrawled on the bottom.

2:30. Laundry.

His jaw tensed, but he’d made his decision. He would be there. It was his only chance of staying alive.