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“Where is the baby now?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“The baby. Your baby. Where is it, right now?”

“I… I don’t like giving that information out,” she said, stumbling over her words. “Especially to someone who might still be on Jesse’s side. I don’t want him having anything to do with their life.”

“But he’s with someone, right?”

“Of course. He’s with a babysitter,” she said.

“I see.”

“Charlotte?”

I turned to see Eugene stepping into the office.

“Eugene, I need to see Jesse,” I said.

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” he repeated. “As a matter of fact, not only no, but I need you to leave. Anyone who was involved in the altercation last night is barred from the office. That includes you, Miss Garafalo. I need you to get on out of here.”

“This is ridiculous,” I said.

“They’re the rules,” he said. “I didn’t make them. I’m just following orders.”

I knew it was no good to argue. I was on his turf. He was wearing a badge and was in the sheriff’s office, and I was just a woman who wanted to see someone they had locked up. I would lose this argument every single time.

“Fine, but I will be back when he is released,” I said.

“Mmm-hmm,” Oland said, sitting heavily down in his chair and picking up a magazine.

Turning, I headed out of the office and back to the car. Opening the door, I took one last glance back and peered inside. I could just make out Lacey, standing by a desk, conversing animatedly but in a friendly way with someone else. Someone with dirty blond hair and a black shirt.

Trish.

They laughed together like old friends, and my blood boiled. Starting the car, I kept my eyes on them for a long moment, wondering if they knew, or cared, that I was watching. The Andersons were always so sure they could get away with anything. I wanted more than anything to shake that idea up. But I didn’t know how.

Chapter Nineteen

Jesse

I was getting really tired of sitting in this stupid jail.

How many times had I been here? A dozen? More? Usually, it was trumped-up stupidity, when the Andersons just wanted me out of the way or to annoy me over something trivial and tossed me in, only to let me out in the morning without a charge. A brake light was out and I was ‘swerving’ or something.

Then there were the fights. I’d had a few of those. Not all of them involved Anderson brothers, but a couple did. Usually, I’d be attacked by some guy who was upset that his girl looked at me the wrong way, or I flirted with her when she approached me or something like that. I’d fight back and usually knock the guy out. Then his buddies would attack, there’d be a brawl involving one or more of my brothers, and all of us would end up here.

When that happened, usually, we all buried the hatchet behind bars, would exit without a charge, and all go for a beer together and apologize for getting stupid. It was the Texas way. Even the night in jail to cool off without a charge was part of that, and the Andersons understood it enough to go along.

But then, sometimes, an Anderson would get involved. Either to break it up too early, or they were instigating in the first place, and one of them would catch a black eye or a busted nose. Then someone had to go to jail, and they had to hurt whilethey were there. That was the rule. An Anderson got touched and whoever did it was going to be minus a functional rib or puking up blood for a little while in a jail cell.

That was me, this time. They’d done a number on me as soon as we were alone. I didn’t even make it into the cell before I was dropped with a nightstick to the back of my knee and then kicked repeatedly until blood was coming out of my mouth. Then they dragged me into the cell and shut the door.

I’d brought this one on myself. I knew it was Arn the second I saw the fence, and I wasn’t going to let him get away with it without some repercussions. Luke had patience, forethought, the ability to think through a situation and get the best revenge possible. I, on the other hand, tended to fly into a fight like a spider monkey and start wailing on the first person I saw that I identified as a problem.