Retribution Boxed Set (Books One and Two) (5 page)

The time had come to quit hiding from life. Nicole
had spent the past five days cleaning, watching TV, and living in the shadows. She
hadn’t gone out except once when she was desperate for groceries. She’d donned
dark sunglasses and a ball cap. Thankfully, no one had bothered her.

Today, she had a meeting with her attorney to
bring her up to speed on what had transpired. The police still considered her
their number one suspect, and Mr. Barton wanted to clarify a few things. Plus,
he’d finally obtained a copy of the security video she’d requested.

She dressed in non-descript clothes that wouldn’t
attract attention, but as she’d picked out her outfit, she considered
everything with an eye as to what might make her appear more innocent. Somehow,
she had to convince the world she hadn’t taken that money.

She took the bus and arrived at the offices of
Taylor, Hunt and Barton a good twenty minutes before her scheduled time. It
seemed strange to be using public transportation again. Everything in her life
had changed the day she’d been taken in for questioning and subsequently lost
her job.

Inside the building, she rode the beautiful
mirror-plated elevator to the top floor of the high-rise in downtown Portland,
and stepped out into the richly-appointed brown and bronze waiting room.

“Nicole Camden here to see Mr. Barton,” she said
to the young male receptionist.

He glanced up at her from his computer screen,
his clear gray eyes assessing her from behind black-rimmed glasses. “Mr. Barton
is with another client. If you’d like to take a seat, he should be with you
shortly.”

Nicole forced a half smile and nodded. She hated
being constantly judged. She sat next to a large palm, grateful for the partial
cover it gave her from the secretary’s condemning eyes. One would think with
the number of questionable clients visiting the office, she wouldn’t seem like
such a spectacle.

A few minutes later, the door to one of the inner
offices opened, and Riley walked out. As he neared her, he caught her surprised
glance and matched it with one of his own.

“Nicole?”

She stood, her lips curving into a warm smile. It
had seemed like forever since she’d seen him, and a friendly face from a person
who knew her and wouldn’t judge her was a welcome relief. “Riley.” She walked
forward and hugged him.

He hugged her back before releasing her. “How are
you doing? I’ve been meaning to call you.”

She didn’t blame him for not calling. He still
had his job at First Freedom, and it wouldn’t do either of them any good if he
was seen with her. It might even cost him his job. “I’m okay. It’s been tough,
but I wanted to thank you for helping me by sending Mr. Barton.”

Riley nodded over his shoulder indicating their
mutual attorney. “He’s a great guy and a very smart man. If anyone can keep you
out of this mess, he can.”

“I have a lot of confidence in him. He really
seems to know his stuff.” She considered her friend for a moment. “What are you
doing here? You’re not in trouble, too, I hope.”

He shook his head. “Boring family business. My
dad asked me to drop by for a second.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “I’d
ask you to lunch today, but I have to get back to work. How about next week?”

The look in his blue eyes seemed sincere, and she
wished more than anything she could spend the day with him. It would do her a
world of good to have someone to talk with. “I’d love to.”

“Okay, I’ll call you. We could even do dinner or
something.”

“That would be nice.” She might have to insist on
takeout to spare him the embarrassment, but it would be good to see him again. Plus,
she could get the scoop on what was happening back at the office and find out
if people really believed she’d stolen all that money.

Mr. Barton looked as impressive today as he had
the first time she’d met him. He welcomed her into his luxurious office. The
massive dark wood desk and beige-colored walls were accented with minor
splashes of red in a painting and in the pillows that rested on a dark brown
leather couch. A warm, spicy scent caught her attention and drew her gaze to a
reed atomizer resting near the back of his credenza. Even the smell of his
office was rich.

“Have a seat, Nicole.”

She smoothed her dark gray pants as she sat
across the desk from him.

He pulled out a large file with her name typed on
a label at the edge. She wanted to cry. How could someone who’d led such a
quiet life have a file that size? What could he possibly have in there? “Have
you found anything that can help me?”

He glanced up, and she realized the salt and
pepper of his hair extended to his brows. “I’m still studying their so-called
evidence with a magnifying glass, looking for a loophole. I don’t think they’ve
got a chance in hell of proving you guilty. Everything is circumstantial.”

She scooted forward to the edge of her chair. This
was the best news she’d had in a long time. “Explain exactly what
circumstantial means. I mean, I think I know, but I’d like to hear it from
you.”

He laced his fingers together in front of him and
placed them on the oversized desk. “Circumstantial evidence is where everything
they have against you makes you look guilty, but none of it is solid evidence
that proves guilt.”

“That’s good, then.”

“Short of there being no evidence, it’s a good
thing.”

“Can I see the video? I’d like to know exactly
why they think it makes me guilty.”

“Absolutely.” He opened the file and then frowned.
The papers inside snapped as he flipped them, the lines on his forehead
deepening. He picked up the phone. “Where is the disc that was in Ms. Camden’s
file? He paused. “It’s not here now.” Another pause. “Then I expect you to
locate it or get another copy from the police immediately.”

He hung up the phone, irritation ruffling his
usual smooth demeanor. “I’m embarrassed to say that we seem to have misplaced
it. My assistant is working on it right now.”

Her spirits sank. She couldn’t help but feel the
one thing that made her appear guilty might also prove she wasn’t, and now
she’d have to wait even longer to view it. There had been at least one other
person in her area that night—the actual thief—and it was quite possible the
video might show someone besides the two of them, someone who might have
witnessed the thief. It didn’t even have to be a person on her floor. Anyone,
anywhere in the building. “Have you watched it?”

“I did earlier this morning.”

“What did you think?”

“Besides the fact that it places you at the
scene, not much.” He seemed to commiserate with her.

“Did the police say anything else?”

“I know they’re still investigating, and like I
said earlier, you still appear to be their number one suspect.”

“My aunt thinks I should hire a private
investigator. She said if the police are solely focused on me, then they’re not
looking for the real thief.”

He waved away her concerns. “I don’t know that an
investigator is necessary at this point. You haven’t been charged yet.”

“Still, wouldn’t it be better to take a proactive
stance? If the police aren’t looking at anyone else...”

“I’m not going to argue if you think it’s
necessary. My assistant can give you the name of a man I highly recommend for
the job. We’ve worked well together on cases before.”

“Do you know how much he charges? She really
needed to find a job.

Mr. Barton’s expression grew vague. “That would
be something you’d need to discuss with him. But if you’re going to go through
with this, you should give him a call. In fact, I think I have his number in
here.” He clicked his computer mouse a few times before writing a name and
number on a piece of paper and handing it to her.

She sighed, frustrated and confused. “I
don’t
really know what to do at this point.”

The dimples in his cheeks creased as he smiled. “Try
not to worry, Nicole. The police won’t press charges until they believe they
have enough evidence against you. Right now, you’re sitting pretty.”

He might be right, but “pretty” didn’t stop
people from treating her as though she was a criminal.

*        *        *

Nicole snagged a newspaper and stopped by her
mailbox before she climbed the stairs to her apartment. Loud, angry voices met
her as she reached the landing on the second floor. She paused, her hand on the
cold, metal railing. The sounds reverberated from Janie’s apartment.

She cringed, hating that her friend agreed to
live under such conditions. More than likely, Paul was drunk again. It didn’t
matter that it was barely past two in the afternoon. Janie would probably have
bruises again tomorrow. More yelling, his and hers, reached out to her, and
Nicole left the staircase, heading toward their apartment. She should mind her
own business, but she couldn’t.

The cursing continued until Nicole knocked on the
door. Then everything went quiet.

A moment later, Janie opened the door a crack. “Nicole.”

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

Janie bit her bottom lip and shook her head. “It’s
Paul again. He’s…it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Are you sure? I feel like I should call the
cops.” She wanted Paul behind bars where he couldn’t hurt anyone.

Janie’s eyes flew wide. “God, no. That will only
make everything worse.”

“Who is it?” Paul asked, sounding drunk and
irate.

“Come stay with me,” Nicole suggested. “Give him
time to cool off.”

She nodded. “I might. Later. Really, I’m okay.”

Nicole accepted her statement and backed away. “Call
me,” she mouthed, holding her hand to her ear as though it was a phone.

Janie closed the door before she could say
anything else.

She waited in the hall for several minutes to
make sure things weren’t going to escalate again. Between her being accused and
what her friend was going through, it seemed the whole world had gone mad. Janie
might say everything was all right, but in Nicole’s opinion, it was never okay
to treat the person you supposedly loved in that manner.

When she was satisfied her friend wasn’t in
danger, she continued to her floor.

The moment she reached it, the real bombshell
exploded. An officer not much older than her stood outside her door with Stormy
restrained by an animal control pole. Stormy jumped when she spied Nicole, and
the officer subdued her with a jerk.

That pissed her off. No one had the right to go
into her house and stress her dog. She marched down the hall. “What the hell is
going on here?”

The officer straightened, his hand near his
weapon. “Take a step back, miss. We have a warrant to search the premises.”

She swallowed, his uniform and weapon
intimidating her, but she wasn’t about to show it. “I’d like to see that
warrant.” Not that she’d know what to look for or understand any of the lingo. But
if they were going to harass her dog, she wasn’t going to make it easy.

He handed an official looking paper to her. She
glanced over the document, noticing that it had been signed by a judge.

She narrowed her eyes at the officer. “You might
have a warrant to search my house, but you have no right to hurt my dog.”

Stormy whimpered as though in agreement.

“Sorry, ma’am. The dog has to be restrained while
the search is conducted. This protects our officers and your dog.”

“Can you at least take that thing off her? Her
voice cracked as she made her request. “I’ll get her leash and keep her with
me.”

Her pathetic plea must have appealed to the
kinder side of him. “Where’s the leash?”

A tiny amount of hope sprang to life. “Inside
that first closet.” She pointed toward her door.

“Carlton. Get the dog leash out of the closet by
the door and bring it here.”

A black officer with a bald head appeared at the
door with Stormy’s leash in hand. The first cop nodded at Nicole, and the other
officer handed the leash to her.

“Thank you,” she said to both men as she took it
and hooked it to Stormy’s collar. Her dog growled as the first officer removed
the restraint from her neck.

Nicole tightened the leash around her hand and
walked to the end of the hall where she sagged to the floor to await the
officers’ rape of her apartment. Stormy licked her cheek, but it didn’t help to
ease her fears. Dank smells seeped up from the old carpet, and she wished she
could run away and hide from the misery that had become her life.

She placed a call to her attorney, only to have
Mr. Barton tell her he would complain to the courts that he wasn’t notified,
and that she should let them complete their investigation. If she was innocent,
there was nothing to fear.

A half hour into her wait, her phone rang. She
lifted her head off her knees and pulled the phone from her purse. Aunt Claire.
She
could not
let her know the police were ransacking her apartment.

She sucked in and released a ragged breath before
she answered.

“Nicole.” Her aunt’s voice sounded frantic and
relieved at the same time. “I haven’t heard from you all afternoon. You were
supposed to let me know how it went with the attorney.”

She searched for an answer. “I think it went
well.” Honestly, the more she thought about it, the less certain she was. “He
doesn’t seem too worried.” She glanced down the hall at her open door and the
officer waiting outside. Boy, had he been wrong. “He seems to think they won’t
find anything other than circumstantial evidence and that there’s not enough of
that to charge me.”

“What was on the surveillance video?”

“I didn’t get to see it. My attorney misplaced
it.”

A few seconds of silence hovered between them. “Are
you sure he’s a good lawyer?”

“Yes, I think so. It was just a misunderstanding
or something. He’s supposed to let me know when he has it.”