The Man She Once Knew (5 page)

One quick glance. “Why what?”

She had so many questions, too many for thirty minutes. For this cramped room. “You’re not stupid. I have to believe there’s more to the story. I don’t buy that you would try to kill another man when you just got out of prison.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw. “It’s none of your business.”

“Your mother thinks otherwise. She was banging on my door first thing this morning, begging me to help you.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“I beg to differ.” She scanned him carefully. “Whoever this attorney is, he’s not doing his job.”

“Not much for him to do. They’ve got me convicted already.”

“Then you need a better lawyer.”

At last he looked at her. “You volunteering?”

Their eyes locked, and for a second, she could barely breathe for the memories that flooded her, all the ways those green eyes had looked at her in the past. “I’m not licensed in this state.”

He visibly withdrew. “Doesn’t matter. My guilt’s a foregone conclusion.”

There was fury writhing beneath the surface resignation, she could feel it. “Your mother is convinced you’re innocent.”

A mocking smile. “Do I look innocent?”

“You look beaten half to death. David…” She approached him then.

He sidestepped her, making his distaste clear.

Fine. They’d been at cross-purposes since the moment she’d come back.

But she didn’t understand why, and she needed to. A wooden angel wouldn’t leave her mind.

You owe him.

She tried again. “David, I didn’t handle all of it well when—” she swallowed “—when our baby died.”

Pain chased over his features, but quickly he mastered it. “Just go away, Callie. I don’t need you.”

That stung. Even though it might be true. “Your mother does.”

He tensed more, if such a thing was possible. He faced her, though his reluctance was visible. “Don’t take her house. Please.” The appeal seemed dragged from deep within. “She’s done nothing to deserve this. I can’t—” He closed his eyes briefly. “I can’t pay you now, but I’ll have another job in prison. I won’t earn much, but I’ll send you everything I make.”

This was excruciating for both of them. “Don’t, David. You don’t have to—”
Beg
. It was awful to see him reduced to this. “I won’t put her out of her house. I promise.”

She saw the relief settle over him.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“But she’s worried about you. And frankly, so am I.”

His back went ramrod stiff again. “I can take care of myself.”

“What happened last night?” Something was off, she could feel it.

“Just a fight.”

“From what I gather, the other guy wasn’t alone. Who is this Mickey Patton to you?”

“No one.”

She waited, but nothing else was forthcoming. “I’m going to check into this.”

His head whipped around, his green eyes hard. “Don’t check. Don’t do anything. Stay the hell out of my life.”

“You can’t stop me. I want to help you, David.” It was a way to make amends for the past.

“You can’t.” He walked to the door and banged on it with his bound hands. “I’m done here,” he said when the door opened.

T
HE COURT-APPOINTED ATTORNEY
, Randy Capwell, was still wet behind the ears. Callie had reserved judgment until meeting him, had even waited to question his handling of David’s injuries, not wanting to start out on the wrong foot.

She wasn’t impressed.

Oh, he was pleasant enough and meant well, she thought as she sat in the chair he’d hastily cleared of a toppling stack of files. Not that any of this was her business, according to David.

If she had any sense, she’d listen to him. He’d killed a man, after all. Clearly he still seethed beneath his skin. Usually, she wouldn’t have given a second thought to putting someone with David’s history back in prison, knowing society was safer with him locked up.

But there was that angel.

“Who is your investigator?” she asked.

“I don’t have one. Yet,” he hastily added.

“But you will? Who do you normally use?”

She listened as he fumbled over a list of names, but she wasn’t buying. “Have you filed any motions yet?”

“Ms. Hunter, I just got the case.”

“But motions for discovery are standard. In David’s case, a motion to suppress anything related to his prior conviction has to be top of the list, as well. Change of venue, based on his situation, is also advisable, don’t you agree?”

A small frown. “Of course.” But his expression told her he didn’t know why seeking to keep the people of Oak Hollow off the jury was critical.

She’d listened to him a little while longer, tried to restrain the worst of the ruthlessness her concern for David provoked. It was obvious, however, that Capwell knew only what she did thus far, that the intricacies of David’s situation were completely unknown to him and that he was severely overworked, as many public defenders were.

He intended to do his best, she believed that, but he was not the representation David needed. Still, he was a potential source of information, so she eased up on him.

“Thank you for seeing me when you’re so busy.”

“I’m happy to,” he said with typical Southern hospitality. “I will know his case very soon, I promise.” He glanced apologetically at the files stacked all around his tiny office.

“My first office at the D.A.’s wasn’t any bigger, and our caseloads can get overwhelming. I understand.” She did, but it was hard to ignore the gnawing in her belly over what he could realistically do for David, given the resources at hand.

One thing that she did learn was that he had called the jail, but David had refused to see him.

Are you crazy?
As she left the meeting, she was tempted to go back to the jail and ask David what he was thinking. Maybe he was one of those prisoners who didn’t know how to function in the outside world, who would commit a new crime soon after being released because the real world was too scary. Hellish or not, prison routine was familiar and if you kept your head down, didn’t cross the wrong people, you could survive. You’d have three squares a day and a roof over your head, courtesy of the state.

The boy Callie had known had possessed powerful ambitions, would have found such a life anathema.

But, as she’d realized many times since returning, that boy was not this David.

“A
RE YOU GOING
to get him out of there?” Jessie Lee demanded that evening as she watered the garden and Callie took a stab at weeding, kneeling on the ground in her new too-stiff jeans.

“What?”

“David. Miss Margaret told me you’re a lawyer. You can fix this.”

The child’s blithe assurance took her aback. “I’m not—I don’t do that kind of work. I can’t legally represent him.” She faltered. The girl didn’t understand the nuances of the situation.

“People are awful to him, and that’s not right.” The girl’s riot of curls bounced with her indignation.

“It’s complicated.”

“I know he’s been in jail before.” Guileless blue eyes
watched her. “But he’s always nice to me, and he helps Granny lots of times, but he won’t let her tell anyone.”

Curiouser and curiouser. “Helps her how?”

“He fixes things at our house, and he won’t ever let her pay him. About all he’ll accept is a meal now and then. He drives her to bingo when her knee is acting up. Picks up groceries for us, too.”

Callie mulled over the inconsistencies.

“Miss Margaret would want you to help him.”

“Why?” She’d been thinking the same, but she wanted to hear the girl’s reasoning.

“He did stuff for her, too. And she always told me everybody deserves a second chance.” Earnest eyes watched hers. “Don’t you believe that?”

Had she once? Callie could barely remember that naive girl, after years of contact with society’s dregs. “It’s not that simple.” When Jessie Lee’s chin jutted, Callie tamped down her impatience. “Sometimes people get on a path that—They take a wrong step and—” Normally so smooth at arguing before a jury, she couldn’t seem to find her rhythm.

This jury wasn’t buying her case. “Who will help him if you don’t?”

He doesn’t want my help,
Callie started to protest.
Everyone is sure he’s guilty.
Her visit with the sheriff earlier that day had been more dismaying than the one with David’s lawyer. The lost promise of Ned Compton’s plans for Oak Hollow was still etched into the minds of its citizens.

She couldn’t believe a child was calling her out. She’d
been so zealous in her search for the truth once, so positive it could be found…when had she quit looking? When had she ever relied on the opinions of others?

Had she lost all her courage at the end of her ill-fated case?

Something didn’t fit here. First, a wooden angel, then this story of good deeds kept secret. Both were more like the David she’d once known than the villain people whispered about. The stony, silent man who trusted no one.

“All right,” Callie said. When Jessie Lee’s head rose abruptly, Callie held up a hand. “I still can’t take action on his behalf, not without associated counsel, and—” Whatever she might have said was cut off by a skinny little body crashing into hers.

“You can do it, I know you can. Thank you.”

Callie tried to think when she’d last been hugged by anyone not angling for sex. Awkwardly she patted the girl’s back. “I might not be able to do anything—oof!” Thin arms squeezed more tightly, and Callie gave up the battle, joining the embrace for a precious second until Jessie Lee danced back.

“I’ll go tell Granny!”

“Jessie Lee—” But the girl was already halfway to the road.

Callie watched her go, wondering what she’d just gotten herself into.

D
AVID DIDN’T BELIEVE
the guard the next day when the man informed him that Callie had returned. He opened
his mouth to refuse the visit, but at the last instant, he changed his mind.

Time dragged here. He didn’t have to answer her questions, and he damn sure didn’t want her interfering, but she might have news about his mother’s house.

God knows how he’d make payments to Callie and still send his mother money on an inmate’s pay, but being sure his mother had a roof over her head would make returning to prison a little easier. That he would was a foregone conclusion; he didn’t kid himself otherwise. Capwell kept mixing up his name, and the sheriff, a friend of Ned Compton’s, had his mind made up about David’s guilt.

A powerful urge to sink back on his bunk and give up dragged at him. What was the use of trying when he was doomed from the start?

He’d stepped on the road to failure the first day he’d laid eyes on Callie Hunter; he just hadn’t known it then. Having idolized his father, David hadn’t been able to walk away from his own child, however scared he was about what it meant to his plans for college and beyond. He’d done what he’d believed was right in sticking up for Callie, but he’d been out of his depth, trying to help her get over losing the baby, hadn’t even known how to handle it himself. Would he ever stop hearing her animal cries of pain, seeing the blood, so much of it…feeling her small hands squeezing his much-bigger ones hard enough to rub bone against bone as she fought to deliver the baby that was coming too soon? The baby that would never breathe?

Grief had tangled with the guilt of being relieved not to have to figure out how to be a father when he was only a kid himself. Then Callie’s mom had spirited her back to South Carolina, and he’d had to swallow the bitter pill of a bright future sacrificed…for what? Callie was gone, and it was like waking up from a bad dream to find an even worse reality.

Meanwhile his mother had begun seeing Ned Compton, and everything went further south after that.

“You coming or not?” the deputy asked.

What’s the point, Callie?
But he rose anyway, and stuck his hands through the bars, grinding his teeth against the feel of metal being snapped around his wrists.

Bound like an animal, every step watched. God, he’d thought this hell was over, that he could just move quietly through the world, keep to himself and everybody else would leave him be.

If not for Mickey Patton—

His gut clenched with the fury that never seemed to leave him. He could forget for only brief, precious moments, in the mindlessness of running or when the sun warmed his back as he tended the garden…welcome sailing on the smooth waters of life others took for granted.

“Here.” The guard grabbed his elbow, yanked him into the room in front of Callie.

Just because he could.

David squeezed his eyes shut against the stabbing ache of his ribs, wished he could keep them shut long enough that Callie would disappear and not witness his debasement.

Lock it down.
Ruthlessly he squelched the anger and shame, holding out his hands for the cuffs to be removed.

“Don’t think so,” the guard said. “Might make the lady nervous, being with a murderer.”

“The lady,” said Callie in a voice tinged with its own anger, “isn’t one bit worried. Take them off.”

“Ma’am, I don’t—”

“I’ll be representing Mr. Langley as co-counsel. We have work to do. I am perfectly safe in your care, I’m certain.” While David was trying to absorb that bombshell, she continued with aplomb. “Please take them off.”

The guard cast him a disgruntled glance. “Suppose it’s your call, Counselor.”

“Thank you.”

David rubbed his freed wrists, managing to withhold the outburst until the man was out of the room.

Then he turned on her. “
Counselor
? Are you out of your mind?”

“Maybe,” she admitted.

“Don’t you have a job to get back to?”

A flash of unease, quickly masked. “I have some time coming.”

“Don’t I have any say-so?” Probably not. The presumption of innocence, the notion that everyone had basic rights, were only ideas and not reality in his experience.

“Of course you do. In truth, I don’t even know if your attorney would allow me to help, but they don’t have to know that yet.”

He stared at her, questions fighting to get past his lips. “I don’t want you here.”

She closed her eyes briefly, then tossed her hair and stared right back. “You need me, David—or someone, at least. Surely you don’t want to go back to prison.”

“Doesn’t matter what I want. I’m going. If you’d ask around, you’d know that.”

“I have asked. That’s why I’m here. I don’t think much of the prosecution’s case thus far.”

He couldn’t afford hope. Ruthlessly he strangled it. “The sheriff would have found something on me sooner or later.” He shrugged. “Just happened to be sooner.”

There was nothing of the insecure, rebellious teen in the look she leveled at him. “This isn’t you. What’s going on?”

He couldn’t let her keep digging. “You don’t know me at all. Now tell me about my mother’s house.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she let the change of subject stand. “It’s nearly paid off, only three years left. I can stretch out the schedule, make the monthly payments less. Or I could forgive the debt altogether.”

He stiffened. “We don’t need charity.”

Her raised eyebrows expressed her doubts.

Not that they weren’t justified. The alternative was generating more interest charges by extending the term. He didn’t like it, but he should be grateful for anything. “I’ll manage. Once I know where I’ll be sent and what kind of job I’ll have, I’ll let you know.”

Her head cocked. “You’re giving up? Just like that?” She frowned. “You can fight this, David. Why aren’t you trying?”

He should never have agreed to see her. “You don’t
know this place. No one’s forgotten Compton. They never will.”

“But you didn’t start the fight with Patton.”

His heart stuttered. “You don’t know that.”

“I do now.” A sly smile quickly vanished. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Get out. Go away.
“Nothing. I’m done here.” He turned. “Guard—” he called out.

She moved fast, grabbing his arm. “I saw the angel.”

He jerked from her grasp. He had to get away from her. Now.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” she said softly.

“I didn’t do it for you.” He’d say anything to get her to back off.

She slipped around in front of him. “I’m trying to help you. To make it up to you, what happened.”

“You can’t.”

“I can try.”

His head whipped around. Would she never give up? “Meeting you ruined my life, Callie. Deal with it. I have.”

Her eyes went wide in shock. She fell back a step.

David banged on the door until the guard arrived. He got as close to the opening as possible, holding out his wrists.
Hurry up, damn it.

“I’m coming back. You can leave, but we have to talk.”

“Don’t bother. I won’t show.”

“Wait! We haven’t talked about your injuries.”

“Leave me the hell alone, Callie. You’ve done enough,” he retorted for good measure, then squeezed through the space between the guard and the door frame,
wishing he could forget her standing there, slim and beyond beautiful.

Not for him. Never for him. No matter how her scent followed him. How her face haunted him.