Sweetest Mistake (Nolan Brothers #2) (38 page)

Mina crammed her feet into her snow boots. “She sounds really freaked out.”

“How long has she been there?” he asked, his feet already moving.

He had to get to her.

“I don’t know. Not long I don’t think.” Mina snatched her coat off a hook by the door and pulled the door shut behind them.

A snarl of emotions, intense and chaotic, roared through him. He had no control over them. “Why the hell didn’t she call me?”

“I don’t know.” She chased him down the porch stairs and caught up to him in the side yard. “Remember she asked me not to tell you about this? Why don’t I go alone and—”

He slammed the car door on her words and jammed the key into the ignition. She fell into the passenger seat a split second before he punched the accelerator.

His pregnant wife sat locked in a jail cell. Was she scared? Hurt or hungry? Had she slept at all or had worry stolen her peace?

So consumed by his racing thoughts, he was vaguely aware of Mina talking into her cell phone while he drove.

He whipped into the station parking lot and stalked up the front walk, his sister-in-law dogging his heels. Noah waited for them at the front entrance, a cell phone pressed to his ear.

“What do we know?” He angled the phone away from his mouth. “Anything?”

Luke gave a shake of his head and swept inside the police station.

At the front desk, Newberry’s head came up. When he saw Luke’s face, he paled.

“Where is she?” Luke barked.

Newberry didn’t get a chance to answer. The door to the jail cell opened and Sloane emerged.

“Ah, good, I’m glad you’re here. Maybe you can get our little jailbird to sing.” A pained grimace contorted Sloane’s bullish features. “Not much of a talker, is she?”

Luke’s hand shot out and clamped around the bastard’s neck. “You son of a bitch. You did this to her?”

Sloane’s eyes grew wide with shock and a bemused smile curled his lips. “Just doing my job.” The words rasped from him.

Luke wanted to kill. He could do it, too. All he had to do was squeeze until Justin’s airway passages became blocked, or his larynx was crushed. It wouldn’t be hard and Luke wouldn’t regret it, even if it made him a murderer, like his father.

“What’d you do?” Luke asked. “Call your daddy? Get him to issue a warrant even though you have shit for evidence?”

From Sloane’s expression, Luke knew he hit upon the truth. “I have evidence. I have the movie.”

“That doesn’t prove shit.” Luke’s grip tightened. “She had nothing to do with that movie.”

“It’s her house,” Justin wheezed. “She’s an accomplice, at least.”

Justin’s eyes bulged and Luke watched the fear stir in them.

“Luke.” Noah’s voice pierced the haze of his fury. “Emily needs you.”

With a hard shove, Luke knocked Sloane against the cement wall.

“Buzz me in.” He barked the order to Newberry over the sound of Sloane’s coughing.

The latch remained locked. Luke glowered at the rookie over his shoulder. “Buzz. Me. In. Now.”

The door to the station entrance swung open and Cynthia shuffled through with a chilly breeze.

Her serious dark eyes quickly assessed the gathered crowd before clamping on Luke. “Is there a problem here, Officer Newberry?”

“No, ma’am.”

With a harsh buzz, the latch gave way. Luke plunged into the jail.

“You can’t go back there—”

He ignored Cynthia and stalked down the row of empty cells until he found her.

She sat on the gray-covered cot, her legs folded in front of her. Her head came up when he said her name. Her eyes looked huge in her pale face.

He drowned in whiskey.

Her feet eased to the floor and she tipped forward, but didn’t stand.

He gripped the iron bars. “Are you all right?”

The cot creaked when she pushed to her feet.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

With small, hesitant steps, she crossed to him. Her hands came up and she wrapped her fingers around the bars, a fraction below his white-knuckled fists.

The sleeves of her sweatshirt drooped and exposed her wrists. No marks or bruises marred her skin. A slow hiss of relief slipped from him. “You’re not hurt?”

She shook her head.

He covered her hands, which felt cold and small beneath his. “You’re okay?”

She nodded.

“Then why are you crying, sweetheart?”

Her mouth moved as she struggled for words. “Y-you came. For m-me?”

The pain wrenching his heart pulled a groan from him. She’d thought he wouldn’t come for her.

He shoved both hands between the bars and gripped her head in his hands. “You are my wife.” His voice croaked. “You are my life.”

A broken sob tore from her.

“I will always come for you.” He wiped away her tears with the palms of his hands.

“B-but y-you said—”

“I know. I know what I said. I was lying.” He swallowed his heart with a painful gulp. “I can’t lose you, Em. I’m not strong enough. I thought if I could stop myself from falling in love with you, it wouldn’t hurt so much. But I couldn’t stop myself…”

He swallowed her sobs when he kissed her, a wholly unsatisfying kiss with the cell bars pressing into the sides of his face. Her tears tasted salty on his tongue.

“Detective Nolan,” Cynthia’s big voice boomed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“That’s his wife.” Sloane nipped at her heels.

Cynthia’s steps slowed, and she glared down at Sloane. He squirmed.

Her gaze shifted to Luke, and then to Emily.

Luke straightened away from the jail. “She was not directly involved in the film’s production. I verified the film permits myself—”

“You knew your wife was making a porno?” Sloane crowed. “That makes you an accessory. I suspected you of a lot of things, Nolan, but not a pornographer. Never that.”

Cynthia rolled her eyes. “Stand down, Justin.” She fixed Luke with a pointed look. “I trust Mrs. Nolan’s lawyer will want to help sort all this out when he or she arrives.”

“He should be here any minute.” At least, Luke hoped Noah had called Shea. “But for the record, this whole thing is a mistake. Officer Sloane has a vendetta and he’s using my wife to try to get to me.”

“That’s a lie,” Sloane spat.

“Why don’t you go check to see if Mrs. Nolan’s lawyer has arrived?”

“But—”

“Do it now, Justin.”

With a scowl, Sloane slithered away, but when he pulled back the steel cellblock door, a surge of noise filled the jail.

“Oh, for the love,” Cynthia muttered.

Luke was aware of Sloane’s protests before the Mayor of Thief Island burst into the jail. A crush of bodies followed Drew Alexander down the hall toward them. Shea nipped at his heels while Honey and Mina hurried along behind them. Noah, his arm flung across Newberry’s shoulders, trailed at the rear.

Drew held his arms wide as he approached. “Chief Brown, I apologize for my obstinacy, but I wanted to make you aware of the discussions which took place at our last city council meeting.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Mayor, this is not a good time,” Cynthia said. “If you’ll wait in my office, I’ll be right with you.”

Emily squeezed his hand and Luke looked down into her face. His heart lifted, and unbelievably, a smile found its way to his lips.

“I won’t take more than a few minutes of your time,” Drew was saying. “It involves a change to city ordinance banning the production of certain salacious material.”

Cynthia’s expression turned wry. “Is that right?”

“Did you know this island had an ordinance on the books which was so narrowly written that several films honored over the years by the Academy Awards likely could not have legally been made here?”

“I can honestly say I did not know that,” Cynthia deadpanned.

“It’s shocking, isn’t it? To think, such censorship was allowed to crush artistic expression. Not to mention the missed opportunities for economic growth. With all our diverse little island has to offer, from beaches and sand dunes to forests and an idyllic downtown, we’re a desirable locale for many a filmmaker.” Drew slipped his hands into the front pockets of his slacks. “Anyway, I put forth a measure to immediately rectify this gross oversight, and after a spirited debate, the council voted to temporarily lift the ban. We’re gonna see how it goes. Even ol’ Thackery approved the measure.”

“What a wise action,” Cynthia said dryly.

Drew flashed a surprisingly charming smile. “You flatter. Which I’m sure has nothing to do with the fact that I appoint you to your post, Chief Brown.”

“You can’t do that,” Sloane seethed.

Drew sliced him with a look. “Actually, I can. That’s how governance works.” He lifted an eyebrow at Cynthia. “Maybe it’s time we reevaluate the officer continuing education program.”

Cynthia executed a weak smile. “I think everything here is under control. Thank you, Mr. Mayor. Why don’t we talk in my office for a moment? I can update you on a few changes in our office.”

“You’re still going to give him that stupid award?” Sloane gaped at her. “He doesn’t deserve it. He’s not a hero, he’s a criminal.”

“That’s not t-true!” The words burst from Emily and all attention swung to her. She shrunk back. “No o-o-one wh-wh-who knows him w-w-would say something so b-blatantly untrue.”

The torturous stutter left a gash on his heart.

Her eyes darted back and forth in full panic for a moment, and then latched on to his face. “He’s a good m-m-man, and a good cop. He’s the b-best m-m-man I’ve ever known. B-because he cares about p-people, and-and-and he w-w-would do anything to h-help them.”

He understood how wounding the moment must be for her. “Emily, it’s okay.”

“He’s the b-best kind of m-man.” She cast a measuring look at Sloane. “A real m-m-man. He’d do anything to h-h-help o-others and I love h-him for that.”

Her declaration hit him like a punch in the gut, and as she stuttered and stammered her way through more horrid platitudes, something inside him shifted. Changed.

His heart filled. There was no stopping the onslaught. It spilled over, drenching him in the knowledge of her love, and he realized if a woman as smart and sweet as Emily Cole Nolan thought him worthy of love, then he must be.

All the self-doubt and hatred that’d built up over the past year—no, over a lifetime—vanished like the stars at dawn.

“He gave a h-homeless m-man shoes.”

“Aw, how sweet.” Sloane’s tongue dripped with sarcasm. “He’s a cop, not a charity worker.”

“I know that,” Emily said. “B-but cops are supposed to serve and p-protect, right? Not only arrest people. He deserves that award, and-and he deserves to be Lieutenant.”

Disgust curled Sloane’s lip when he looked to Cynthia. “You’re giving him the job?”

“No, I’m not,” Cynthia said.

Emily flinched. “Please don’t punish him for my actions. We’re not staying married.”

Terror seized him. “The hell we aren’t,” he growled.

Cynthia covered her laughter with a cough. “Are you going to tell them or am I?”

Luke rolled his shoulders. “I didn’t get the job.”

“I offered the position to Detective Nolan,” Cynthia said. “He turned me down. Not only that, but he resigned from the force.”

“
What?
” Emily’s voice pitched to shrill levels. “Why?”

“I believe the reason given had something to do with you, Mrs. Nolan.”

Luke opened his mouth to protest.

“What was it you said, Detective?” Cynthia was enjoying herself now. “If I laid a finger on your wife you’d cut off my balls and feed them to the patrons at your brother’s pub?”

Drew snickered.

“Then he tendered his resignation, effective the moment I kissed his hairy white ass. Is that about right, Detective?”

Luke scratched a phantom itch on his collarbone. “Yeah, something like that.”

“I don’t understand.” Emily gazed up at him with huge brown eyes.

“I need to step away for a while.” He reached through the cell bars and stroked her cheek. “But you’re going to have to start paying me for my services.”

Cynthia clapped her hands together. “If any of you are Mrs. Nolan’s attorney, can you step to the front desk so we can resolve this matter? Officer Newberry, can you assist with the release?”

Newberry slipped out of the jail, and a moment later, the latch to Emily’s cell gave way. Luke swung open the door and she shot into his arms.

He cradled her head in both his hands and kissed the tiny freckle on her cheekbone, under her right eye. “We’re not getting a divorce. I’ll never agree to it.”

A watery laugh bubbled out of her as he dropped more kisses on her face, her forehead, and the tip of her nose.

She turned her face away, and to their attentive audience said, “His ass isn’t hairy.”