Texas Tall - Janet Dailey Page 0,41

him,” Beau said. “But I’ll be driving you.”

“No need for that,” Will said. “This is my problem, not yours.”

Beau put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It’s our family’s problem. And you’re not going through it alone.”

CHAPTER 8

Tori waited in the rear entryway to the county building, which housed the sheriff ’s department and the jail. Flanked by an armed deputy, Abner Sweeney stood beside her. His freckled face wore a self-satisfied smirk. A set of handcuffs dangled from his plump fist. He swung them back and forth, humming under his breath, a maddening sound.

“I can’t imagine you’re going to need those cuffs,” Tori said. “Will’s coming in on his own. He’s not going to run away or attack you. You’d be safer putting them on me.”

She was only half joking. Right now, it was all she could do to keep from punching the obnoxious little man in the mouth.

He chuckled. “I always did like your sense of humor, Tori. But the cuffs are part of the arrest process. They let the suspect know who’s in charge.”

The suspect? Will? Tori was still struggling to accept the unthinkable. The judge’s decision had left her reeling, her confidence shaken to the core. How could this be happening?

She steeled herself as Beau’s Jeep pulled up to the curb. Inside, she might be falling apart, but she couldn’t let Abner know that—or Will. Especially Will.

The inquest had raised her hopes at first. As the evidence was presented, she’d felt sure that the conclusion would be self-defense. But at the last moment, the judge, a man Tori had known and trusted for years, had expressed his doubts and called for a trial. Stunned, Tori had looked around for Clay as the room emptied, hoping he might give her some explanation. But the county prosecutor had already left.

Will climbed out of the Jeep. Without waiting for Beau, who’d driven him, he strode up to the jail entrance and through the automatic doorway. Head high, face expressionless, he appeared proud and unafraid. But Tori knew what he must be feeling. His eyes didn’t even flicker toward her as the sheriff cuffed his wrists and read him his rights. That done, the deputy led him back to booking, to be searched, fingerprinted, photographed, and humiliated. The sheriff followed, leaving Tori in the entryway.

Beau had come in through the outside door. As Tori turned and saw him—the friend who’d been there since her childhood—something broke inside her. A sob caught in her throat. She began to shake, as if the earth were breaking apart under her feet.

Beau reached her in two long strides and gathered her close. Holding her gently but firmly, he spoke. “It’ll be all right. We can get him out tomorrow, after his bail hearing.”

“I’m his lawyer. I know that.” Her voice wavered. “But I’m scared, Beau. What if I can’t do this? What if I let him down and he goes to prison? Maybe Will should hire somebody else.”

“You won’t let him down.” He eased her away, holding her at arm’s length. “When it comes to protecting people you care about, you’re a tigress, Tori. Will may not be your husband any longer, but he’s Erin’s father. You won’t just be fighting for him—you’ll be fighting for her, for our whole family!”

“But what if I fail? What if I lose? The judge in there had every reason to rule in Will’s favor. But in the end he went the other way. Something like that could happen again, and it would kill Will. It would kill Erin.”

“That’s why we have juries,” he said. “Will shot that man in the belief that he was saving himself and Erin. Your job is to help those jurors see the truth.” His grip tightened on her shoulders. “I’ve known you most of my life, Tori. You always had your eye on the prize. I’ve never known you to doubt yourself.”

He was getting to her, as only Beau knew how. But the uncertainty was still there. “I’ve never had so much depending on me—or so much to lose,” she said.

“You still love him, don’t you?”

Beau’s question caught Tori off guard, but she managed a quick recovery. “That’s a low blow if I ever heard one,” she said.

“You didn’t answer my question. Do you still love him?”

The night of the storm flashed through her mind—Will’s crushing arms, his kisses, their bodies seeking each other in desperate need. But that hadn’t been love. It hadn’t even been close.

“I care for him, of course,”