“Please, Maryn,” James said from behind the mask they must’ve put on his head.
“Fine.” Maryn sighed and pulled it back over her head. “I promise you, James, when we get free if they don’t kill you, I will.”
The bald guy chuckled. James didn’t respond.
ChapterTwenty-One
Tuck sat in his cell, head between his hands. Sleep wasn’t going to come tonight even though he knew he needed it if he was going before a judge tomorrow. The police had questioned him with his lawyers present and his lawyers had done a great job of showing how little evidence the police had and how out of line the arrest was, but he had no clue if his lawyers were going to be able to get him out and get the police to drop these spurious charges. Being in this cell was the worse feeling he’d had in his life. No. Killing those children in Afghanistan had been worse. Watching the bear attack Maryn then seeing her suffer after had been worse.
He’d get through this. Somehow. Would Maryn really wait for him? He shouldn’t have asked it of her, but he couldn’t help it. Her response and the determination in those blue eyes eased the misery of sitting here.
The cell door clanged open and the guard gestured to him. “Time to go.”
“Really?” He had no clue about the actual time, but the jail cells were still dark and it couldn’t be eight a.m. yet. They had told him his arraignment would probably be later in the afternoon. Maybe the time had gone faster than he thought and it was morning. They could be taking him for more questioning or an early breakfast if his lawyers had swung a quicker arraignment.
The guard didn’t respond or offer any information. They walked past the cells and into a long hallway. Several turns later and he was led into an empty room. His clothes were on a chair. Tucker darted a glance at the guard. The guy actually smiled at him. The guard carefully took off Tucker’s manacles and gestured to the clothes. “You can get dressed. I’ll be right outside.”
Tucker quickly shed the horrible jumpsuit. It was actually pretty comfortable after probably being washed hundreds of times, but he hated the fact that he’d had to wear it. His phone, wallet, and keys were sitting next to his clothes. Why would they give him those if he wasn’t going free? He slipped into his linen shirt, loving the feel of his own clothes. Putting on his pants and jacket reminded him of wearing this with Maryn last night. Had it only been last night? Hopefully she’d gone home to get some rest. What a sucker punch, trying to win over a woman and having her see him get arrested. Maryn had taken it amazingly well. He wanted to be with her more than ever, but wondered if it was even a possibility now. What if he got convicted? Darkness washed over him. He tried to push it away, but it was heavy.
He opened the door, wondering if they let him get dressed to appear before the judge. He didn’t dare hope, but still felt it in his chest. Wouldn’t a judge need more evidence than one unidentified person’s testimony, and a grainy video?
The guard gestured down the hallway. They walked for a few minutes, their shoes tapping the only sound. “Am I meeting with the judge?” Tuck finally asked.
“I’m supposed to let someone else explain that,” the guard responded.
They turned and entered a waiting room of sorts. Tucker saw the dimples first. Johnson’s grin was huge. Tucker took a step toward his friend then faltered. He looked at the guard who nodded to him. It was then he noticed three of his lawyers in the room also.
“Johnson?” Tuck asked.
Johnson hurried to his side and pounded his back in a manly hug. “They sorted it out.” He pointed to their legal team, dressed in suits even though it was the middle of the night. They probably hadn’t slept any more than Tucker.
The youngest member of the team, Tucker thought her name was Julia, smiled at him. “You not only had three solid alibis since you were in Jamaica at the time of the bar fight, but Johnson enlarged and freeze-framed the film and we were able to prove it wasn’t you from the film they had. You have identifying scars and the shape of your lips and nose were different than the man in the film.”
The police had shown Tucker the film to try to get his reaction. It had been poor footage, but he had to admit the guy in the fight was built like him and had the same longish brown hair.
“They also revealed who had turned you in from seeing the America Most Wanted footage, and the guy had reason to want you behind bars. The detectives said there was no way they were taking such circumstantial evidence in front of a judge.”
That made sense, but who would hate him enough to want him behind bars? “Who made it up then?”
“You’ve been dating his girlfriend,” Julia smirked at him.
“James?” Fire raced through him. He really was going to pummel that guy.
“Yep.” Johnson nodded. “Slimeball.”
Tucker completely agreed. “Thank you,” he told the lawyers. “You’re all getting a raise.”
They all smiled, shook his hand, and filed out. He turned to Johnson. “Thanks, man.”
“You’d do the same for me.” Johnson grinned and gestured. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Sounds good.”
The guard escorted them to the front door. “Thanks,” Tucker said to the guard as he held the door open.
“Good luck, sir.”
Fresh air had never tasted so good. Tucker simply stood there for a few seconds and breathed it in. He turned to Johnson. “What time is it?”