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“I—” What could I say?
“Take these off of her.” He pointed to my bound wrists and spoke with authority. “Only bad guys wear these unless it’s a mistake.”
“You’re upsetting him,” I said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
We might as well not have said anything at all. Mrs. Shepherd shifted uncomfortably, but the officer wore an annoyed expression.
“Let’s talk about tomorrow. You have the schedule, right?” Normalcy. We needed normalcy.
“It’s on the clipboard.” He motioned to the counter where it lay.
“Should we finish making the food for tomorrow?” I stood. “Show me what you’ve done so far.”
Reluctantly, he followed me. “You can’t do anything.”
I smiled. “I’m sticking you with all the work, bow tie.”
He tried to smile back. “I don’t mind.”
Because he was a great person who shouldn’t be going through this right now.Please let Lincoln’s lawyer help me out of this mess.
If he wouldn’t, where would that leave Eric and me?
Chapter Three
Lincoln
“Your family is keepingme in business.”
I scowled as I gripped the phone.
“Are you coming or not?” My patience with Kane Zegas was officially at zero . . . but I needed the lawyer’s help.
He sighed. “Yeah. And I’ll call Whitley on the way.”
“I don’t want her to see the inside of a cell,” I grated out.
“Maybe you should call your father. He seems to have the magic touch.”
My stomach roiled at the thought. I didn’t want him involved . . . but what if Zegas was right? What if he could keep Lexie out of jail?
“Hurry.”
I stabbed the end button and dialed another number.
“I thought after our last conversation you’d be avoiding me for a while,” the familiar voice rumbled.
“I am, but I need all the help I can get.”
“What’s wrong?” Any tease in Daniel Elliot’s tone from a second ago evaporated. My best friend recognized I wasn’t playing around. I’d never asked for his assistance.Ever.
“Lexie’s been detained by NYPD and child services for alleged assault against her father. They’re trying to take Eric into protective custody. She’s in cuffs, but they haven’t taken her to the police station yet. Is there any way you can keep them from doing that?” I paced in the alley. What was I going to do? They were depending on me, and I . . . was at a loss.
“Shit. Where are you?”
I rattled off the address. “You don’t have to come here. I was just hoping you could make a phone call . . . or something.” I kicked a loose chunk of asphalt.
“I can do both.”
