The door swung open, and Alan climbed out. After a brief period of hesitation, he moved toward Branch with angry steps, his mouth set in a firm line.
Whatever was bothering him, it didn’t seem to affect Branch. He was smiling, a devious, scheming grin that set her nerves on edge. He started across Main Street, adjusting his grip on whatever he held, and an object dropped, swinging from a short chain. A handcuff.
A sick feeling of dread slid down her throat, leaving behind a taste of metal. Why was Branch walking toward BethAnn’s carrying handcuffs?
He swung open the door and motioned Alan into the store. When Alan stepped over the threshold, there wasn’t even a hint of the ready smile he always had for her. His expression was dark and brooding. But there was something else, too. Regret. An unspoken apology.
Branch marched boldly inside as BethAnn came out of the back holding a twelve-pack of receipt tape. He stood a few feet in front of the counter, posture set in his usual self-important stance—weight shifted to his heels, hands on his hips, chest out and chin raised.
BethAnn laid the tape on the counter and addressed him. “Can I help you?”
“You can help me the most by staying out of the way.”
BethAnn bristled. Maybe she hadn’t seen the condescending side of Branch. “Since you’re standing in my store, how about telling me what the problem is.”
“I’ll be glad to.” His lips curved up in a smirk. “It seems you’ve hired a criminal.”
Jessica tried to still her racing pulse. “You’re lying. You know full well I haven’t done anything.”
“The evidence says otherwise.”
“What evidence?”
“Why don’t you tell her, Alan?”
Alan’s jaw muscles twitched as he clenched his teeth. Barely restrained fury flowed just beneath the controlled exterior. Alan was all about justice, something she wouldn’t get on Branch’s watch. The officer drew in a deep breath. “You know the break-in that happened at Driggers a couple nights ago? Chief says it was your prints they found.”
Her heart was pounding in earnest now, and her ears began to ring. “He’s lying. I’ve never been inside the place.” Surely Alan didn’t believe him.
Branch shook his head. “Sorry, missy, the evidence doesn’t lie.”
“No, but dirty cops do. Whatever evidence you have, you planted it, and you’re not going to get away with it.”
He made a clucking sound, still shaking his head. “All these years later, you’re still refusing to take responsibility for your actions.”
“I take full responsibility for my actions. But I’m not taking responsibility for something I had nothing to do with. Go ahead with your scheme. You’re making a big mistake, because I’m not going down without a fight.”
Branch lifted the handcuffs toward Alan. “Go ahead and cuff her and read her her rights.”
A sick sense of deja vu engulfed her. She was being framed again, set up to pay for a crime she didn’t commit. But this time it would follow her for the rest of her life.
Panic spiraled through her. She was on a runaway train, hurtling through the darkness toward her own destruction. “I’m going to talk,” she said, grasping at anything that might halt the chain of events. “You’ve been threatening me since I came back, trying to run me off. It’s going to backfire on you.”
Branch crossed his arms in front of him, resting them comfortably on his belly. “Talk all you want. Who do you think people will believe, an upstanding citizen like myself, with almost forty years of public service, or someone with your history?”
“That was juvenile stuff.”
“Not all of it.”
So Branch knew about the trouble she’d gotten into when she first moved to Miami. He’d checked her out. So had Shane. Her past was there for anyone who wanted to look at arrest records in Miami-Dade County. Even her juvenile record was available to someone with Shane’s connections. Every mistake was like a stain on her soul. She didn’t need God to mend the broken pieces. What she needed was a do-over button.
Branch nodded toward Alan. “Go ahead, son. Being a good cop sometimes involves bringing to justice the people we consider friends. But we have to uphold the law no matter what.”
She would have laughed in his face if she hadn’t been so terrified. Branch didn’t uphold the law. He rode above it.
Alan took the cuffs, his jaw still tight, but a softness had entered his features. He did believe her. Not that it would do her any good. Branch was in charge, and he had “evidence.”
Alan clicked the cuffs on her wrists, then stepped in front of her, his back to his chief. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do may be used against you in a court of law.” A determination she’d never seen before replaced the gentleness in his gaze. He finished the Miranda warning, then dropped his voice to the merest hint of a whisper. “Hang loose. I’m working on it.”
She drew in a deep breath and tried to corral her scattered thoughts. What did Alan mean, he was working on it? Freeing her? Bringing down Branch? Maybe both? She wasn’t holding out very high hopes. Branch was right. No one was going to believe her word against his. He’d told her if she stayed, she’d be sorry. He’d made good on his threats.
She cast a glance at BethAnn but couldn’t read her thoughts. Did BethAnn believe Branch? Did she have any reason not to? BethAnn knew her past but had taken a chance on her anyway. Was she now regretting it?
“Okay, let’s go.” Branch’s words sent another round of panic pulsing through her. She was going to jail. As an adult.
Branch reached for her arm, but she jerked away and moved toward the door before he could touch her. Just before stepping outside, she tossed frantic words over her shoulder. “Please get a hold of Shane and tell him what’s happened.”
Maybe there was something he could do. She
