Three Nights before Christmas (15 page)

Read Three Nights before Christmas Online

Authors: Kat Latham

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction

“It means that it’s highly likely that we will be in a position to file a joint motion for a retrial on the basis of new evidence having come to light. With this new testimony, I think we have a very strong case for an acquittal.”

Lacey pressed her hand to her lips and fell back into the snow. It seeped through her jeans, freezing her butt just as every other bit of her seemed to melt at once.

“Lacey?”

“Sorry. I just had to sit down for a second.”

“I know how you feel. I just got off the call with the district attorney, and my hands are still shaking. Hell, my whole body is shaking.”

“Do you think…what sort of chance do we have of this actually happening? The joint motion for a new trial and all that, I mean,” Lacey asked.

“Very high, based on the phone call I just had.”

“Oh, God.” The tears stinging her eyes finally welled up and rolled down her cheeks. Austin’s arm wrapped around her shoulders and tugged her against his side. Needing to borrow his strength, she burrowed her face into his chest.

Jenna’s kind voice vibrated in her ear. “I really wish I was there to hug you right now.”

Lacey tried to breathe without breaking down into a sobbing mess. It took all her willpower to choke out, “I think this is the best phone call I’ve ever had.”

“That makes two of us, then,” Jenna said, and they both laughed.

“Is there anything I need to do? What happens next?” Lacey asked.

Jenna explained a few things that flew over Lacey’s head. Maybe she would’ve grasped them on a good day, but not an exceptionally great day like today. Today, she was just too full for anything else to take root inside her. Jenna seemed to understand, so she promised to contact Lacey soon to go over details.

“Thank you,” Lacey said. “Thank you so much for taking me and my case on.”

“I think we should both thank whoever or whatever it was that convinced your douchebag ex-boyfriend to be honest,” Jenna said.

“Yeah. That’s going to take a while to process.”

“Maybe it’s a Christmas miracle. Stranger things have happened.”

“A Christmas miracle.” Lacey grinned. “I like the sound of that.”

“I’ll be in touch soon,” Jenna said. “Do something fun tonight. Make that too-serious brother of yours take you out to celebrate.”

“Will do,” she lied.

She couldn’t tell Sawyer. Not yet. She couldn’t raise his hopes until she knew for sure this whole retrial thing would happen. He’d sat behind her every day through one trial, and by the end he’d looked as haggard and exhausted as she’d felt. Considering the molasses pace of the justice system, who knew how long she might have to wait before finding out whether the retrial would go ahead. No, she wouldn’t tell Sawyer until the retrial was definite, wouldn’t make him live in limbo, the way she would no doubt be doing until she heard from Jenna again. Besides, she was having trouble believing the things she’d just heard. She couldn’t even speak as she stared at Austin over her quiet phone, and he’d clearly heard every word.

Chapter Thirteen


T
he conversation spun
itself around in Austin’s mind. He pulled it apart, tried to put it back together, but still none of it made much sense. Needing to make sure he’d understood, he said, “You’re getting a new trial.”

Her jaw trembled as she nodded. This was the Lacey he remembered from immediately after her arrest, her life knocked on its ass and leaving her without a compass. But he knew her now—or, at least, he knew her better now. This was part of Lacey, but it wasn’t all of her. Fierce and determined, she would overcome the tears and stand up to fight.

Partly because she looked so overwhelmed and partly because he needed to break eye contact so he could think better, he wrapped his arms around her, and she fell easily against his chest. He held her close as he knelt in the snow before her. And all the while he tried to figure out the missing pieces of the puzzle they’d both been part of.

Her ex had recanted. Austin remembered him, a good-looking guy with shaggy blond hair and a charming personality. At the time, Austin hadn’t wondered what Lacey saw in him. In his line of work, he’d come across plenty of scumbags and the nice women who fell for them, and he left each of those encounters feeling as if he’d misunderstood something fundamental about the human race. But he hadn’t felt that about Dave, who’d had plenty of charm, but it hadn’t oozed out in obvious manipulation, the way it did in so many criminals. According to the testimony Austin had sat through, most people liked Dave. He was a party guy, sure. But he’d never been violent. No one who knew him had seemed all that surprised to discover he’d turned his love of pot into a business. If anything, they’d made it clear he didn’t have the brains or business sense to organize an orgy in a brothel, much less a trafficking ring. He’d been the dupe who grew the dope, nothing more.

And that was where Lacey had come in. With her career and quick wit, no one involved in the case could believe she was ignorant of the crime she’d committed. When Dave had rolled on her, saying Lacey had come up with the idea of turning his little business into a big-time affair by using her train as a cover to transport the goods, Austin hadn’t been all that surprised. Did she regret her role? He’d had no doubt. She’d been horrified, tears streaming silently down her ashen face as she’d listened to Dave testify against her. He’d seemed so earnest, so incredulous that she’d tried to pin the blame on him, and every word of his testimony had driven spikes in her pathetic ignorance defense, making her look like a liar trying to cover her own ass.

And Austin had testified against her, too. She’d shown up during his stakeout carrying a box full of cash that had tested positive for drug residue. He’d been the arresting officer. CCTV footage had shown her carrying similar boxes onto her train at Whitefish. They’d never managed to capture the “uncle” she sold the drugs to, but they’d had enough evidence to convict her.

But now her ex was recanting when there was no compelling reason to do so. Testifying against her had gotten him a reduced sentence. If anything, admitting he’d perjured himself was a bad move on his part. So why do it—unless it was the truth?

Holy shit. The tendrils of doubt he’d been trying to suppress for the past couple of weeks knotted themselves into a giant ball of twisted guilt in his gut. If her ex was telling the truth
now
, then Austin was partly responsible for stealing three years of Lacey’s life. More than three years. Her friends, some of her family, her career, her future.

He was partly responsible for turning the smiling, happy, going-places young woman into the hardened ex-con who’d known better than to ask him for anything but some Christmas music because her future was so bleak.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Lacey wiped her eyes on the backs of her hands. They were red and chapped, with blunt nails that were grease-stained around the cuticles and had trapped dirt in the grooves of her friction ridges, reminding him of the ink he’d seen pressed into her fingertips when he’d helped interview her after her arrest. The dirt was like a stain on his own hands, one he’d never be able to wash away. He captured her hands between his palms and held them, willing his body heat to warm her.

“Your lawyer’s right,” he said, his voice painfully gruff and unsteady. “You should celebrate.”

She made a noise that was half laugh, half messy sob. “I am. I’m going to finish that boiler.”

Something cracked inside his chest, making him ache. “You can take a night off, you know.”

She shook her head. “Not till Lucinda’s finished and ready for Josh’s fundraiser. How horrible would it be if she wasn’t finished in time, and we knew that a few extra hours this one night would’ve made her ready?”

He wiped away a tear streaking through the dirt on her cheeks. “Anyone ever accused you of being a workaholic?”

She gave him an ironic grin. “You work as hard as I do. Besides, what else am I going to do? For some reason, I haven’t been invited to any parties lately.”

And he was a big part of that reason. He hadn’t believed her before, and she’d paid a huge price. But instead of leveling accusations at him, she fell back on sarcasm to protect herself. As much as he wanted to get her to bare her body, he didn’t think he had the right to ask for anything more. Not when this new trial had turned a complicated situation into a tangled network of what-the-fuck-just-happened.

“I have an idea,” he said. “Why don’t you let me take you out to dinner tonight?”

Her brows shot up. “In town?”

“Wherever you want.”

Her gaze shooting over his shoulder to the trees, she chewed on her lower lip. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You and me…in town. No. Definitely a bad idea.”

“Why?”

“Because people will talk. I won’t be able to relax. And…it’s just a bad idea.”

He got that. In fact, he was half relieved she’d turned him down, but the rest of him felt sick that she couldn’t even go on a date without confronting her accusers.

The crunch of boots through snow alerted him to the fact they were no longer alone. Two men trudged out of the forest carrying trees. An instant of panic shooting across her face, Lacey rushed to her feet and brushed the snow off her butt and knees. She cleared her throat, looking anywhere but at him. Lifting the phone, she said loudly, “Thanks for helping me find my phone, Officer.”

He stood, wishing for a few more moments to figure out what was happening between them and whether he wanted it to happen at all.

“You’re welcome.” He waited till she had put a few feet of distance between them before calling out, “Lacey?”

She turned.

“See you tonight.”

She smiled and nodded once to let him know she’d heard, and then she grabbed her chainsaw and trudged off into the forest. Determinedly on her own.

And he’d never felt so alone.

Chapter Fourteen


T
he next time
Jenna called, it was to arrange to come down to the farm and talk about a strategy for the retrial. Lacey invited her to stay the night, and there was just a hint of hesitation in Jenna’s voice when she accepted. But between felling trees in the back lot, rebuilding Lucinda, and working out the rest of her nervous energy by riding Austin, she gave herself no time to think about anything else. That was how she liked her life. No time to stop and think. She’d had plenty of that inside, and now all she wanted was to spend her days getting shit done and her nights doing Austin.

And sleeping. Sleep was important, too.

She put off telling Sawyer about her lawyer’s visit until the night before Jenna was due to arrive. Though part of her was bursting to tell him the news, she didn’t want to give him a chance to ask pesky questions before everything was settled. His comment in Bozeman still rankled.
If they were my problems, I’d fucking solve them.

Yeah, well, she could solve her own problems. Maybe she hadn’t been able to three years ago, but she was wiser now. She could finally put a stop to his overprotective, big-brother, I’m-always-right-and-you-never-are attitude.

She just needed confirmation that the trial would go ahead, and she needed a plan for getting through it. Once she had that, she could lay it all out for Sawyer, leaving him nothing but impressed by her ability to sort out her own life. She might even get a begrudging grunt out of him.

The night before Jenna was due to arrive, Lacey buttered him up by building a roaring fire and offering him a hot chocolate, one treat he never could resist. When she brought it to him in the living room, he was warming his hands in front of the fire. He took the hot chocolate from her and relaxed a little as he got his first taste of it.

Excellent. He would be putty in her hands.

“How’d it go on the back lot today?” he asked.

“Pretty good. Running thin on stock now, though. It’s been a big year,” she replied.

And didn’t it feel great to say that? To be part of it? To know she’d contributed something to help her brother out? Sure, he could’ve hired someone else, probably for less since she suspected he was padding her wages out of guilt and pity, but still. She’d worked hard and felt like she’d earned the money. More than that, though, she enjoyed being part of the family business again.

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