isn’t moving except to step in front of me to block me from the detective.
“Step aside, Ace. You don’t want to do this.”
“I’m doing nothing but asking a question. Why are you arresting her?”
“Miss Thornton is under arrest for arson.”
“Arson!” My screech makes the officer flinch. “I didn’t set that fire. There was a man…”
“Ace mentioned your account—”
“Yes, that’s damn straight, I mentioned it.” Asher continues to block Detective Malone. “She was assaulted and nearly died in that fire.”
“Ace, I’m going to have to ask you to step aside.”
“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”
Grant Malone shakes his head and sighs. “Look, Ace, forensics just came in. The accelerant is all over her stuff, fingerprints on the lighter fuel—”
“My fingerprints?” My heart speeds up and I look frantically between the two men. “Asher, I swear I didn’t touch any of that stuff. That man wrapped rags around the bases of the bushes. He doused them with lighter fluid. It wasn’t me.”
“I’m sorry, Miss, but I need to remind you anything you say can be used against you in a court of law.” He pulls out a small card from his breast pocket and proceeds to read me my Miranda rights while I stare back, mouth agape and heart lodged in my throat.
This can’t be happening.
I glance at Asher as Detective Malone pulls out a set of cuffs.
“I need to call Prescott.” My voice shakes and my hands tremble.
“You’ll have a chance to make a call at the precinct.” The officer cuffs me, being exceptionally gentle considering the bandages which still cover most of my arms.
“Asher,” I say, “call Prescott. Tell him what’s going on.”
“Why Prescott?” He looks confused.
“It’s the only number on my phone.” I give him my four-digit passcode. There’s nothing on that phone I need to worry about. I’m only concerned about the conversation Asher is going to have with Prescott.
“Do you really have to cuff her, Grant?” Asher takes a step forward, but one look from the detective and he retreats. I can tell he’s unsure, but this is something we’ll get sorted out.
“It’s okay, Asher. Please just call Prescott. He will help me.”
“Sorry, Ace, it’s standard procedure.” Grant Malone glances around the room. “Are there any personal belongings you need to take?”
There’s nothing in my hospital room except for the bag of ruined clothes. I give a sharp shake of my head. “No.”
The detective presses his lips into a thin line. “See you around, Ace.”
“You can damn well bet on that.” Asher blocks Grant Malone and pulls me tight to his chest. “We’ll figure this out. I’m going to find out what the fuck is happening, then I’ll meet you at the station. Okay?”
“Call Prescott.” My words are terse, strained, and I’m barely keeping it together. Prescott will know what to do. He’ll bring the full force of his protective fatherly instincts and impeccable skill as a trial attorney to help me out.
For the first time, in a very long time, I not only need his help, I want it.
“I will.” He cups my chin. “Be brave, little backpack.”
I’m overloaded and tears spill down my cheeks. The brave face I put on for Asher is a facade; I’m scared.
How do I prove my innocence?
What evidence do they have against me?
My fingerprints were found on the bottle of accelerant? How?
Nothing makes sense.
“Okay.” I nod because it’s all I can think to do, but what if it’s not okay?
10
Asher
More than a little pissed off, I follow Grant to the station in my truck. He has my girl on trumped up charges for arson. Whatever evidence they found, they didn’t see the terror in Evelyn’s eyes when she told me what happened.
A man assaulted her, and I don’t see anyone looking for him.
Grant gives a sharp shake of his head when he sees I followed him. He leaves Evelyn in the car and approaches my truck. “You need to go.”
“Why? Am I under arrest?”
Grant pushes his fingers through his hair and does an amazing job maintaining his cool. He senses I want to pop him in the face, kick his legs out from under him, and take him to the ground. That does no one any good, so I keep my shit locked down tight.
“You have no right arresting her, and shit, Grant…” It’s my turn to pause. “Did you have to do it at the hospital?”
“When would you have had me do it, Ace?” He glances at the car. “Look, I’m just doing my job.”
“A piss poor