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“Does he now?”
“What is your problem? Don’t you want help?”
Trent’s cheeks sagged. “Yes. Sorry. You don’t know what it’s like in here.”
In all honesty, she didn’t want to know. “What did Benson ask you?”
“Just personal stuff.”
Ariel leaned back in her seat. “Listen. I know you gambled. Hell, you probably were involved with drug dealers too. I’m okay with that. If you owed someone money, they could have been the ones who killed Samantha.”
He leaned forward as far as he could. “Benson mentioned that, but it’s too dangerous for you to be involved. Leave. It. Alone.”
Trent was unbelievable. “Are you telling me youwantto stay here?”
“No, but it’s not worth you dying over it because of my mistakes—or rather my poor choices.”
She whistled. “Okay, fine. I’ll find a different way to free you.”
Anger, frustration, and helplessness assaulted her. She needed to leave before she said something she’d regret. Yes, she’d come for a name of someone he might have owed money to, but in Trent’s state of mind, she was sure he wouldn’t share.
After Ariel motioned the guard to let her out, she didn’t look back. Her brother was as stubborn as they came.
When she stepped into the waiting room, Benson stood. In her frustrated mood, she’d forgotten that Benson would be waiting there for her. She could only hope that Trent had been more forthcoming with him.
“How did it go?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I think Trent is trying to protect me. He clammed up.”
As if it was a natural thing to do, Benson placed a hand on the small of her back and led her out of the prison. To her surprise, Ariel gained some comfort from being near him. He didn’t have to visit Trent, but she was glad he had—assuming her brother told him some deep, dark secret.
“There’s a coffee shop down the road. Want to stop and grab something? I can tell you what your brother told me. You’ll want to hear this.”
Her pulse shot up. “That would be great.”
“How about I drive? I’ll drop you back here on the way to Wildwood.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Are you thinking Betty won’t make it?”
“Not at all. I’m trying to be a gentleman.”
He was at that. “Then thank you.”
The county must pay more than she thought if he could afford such a nice SUV—a Mercedes no less. Then again, his cousin, Brandon Granger, the sheriff’s son, owned the car dealership in town.
Benson held open the door and motioned her in. His car had that new smell that she loved. Once seated, he rushed over to the driver’s side.
Ariel immediately tamped down the feeling of joy that had momentarily shot through her. She was here for information, not a date. To be fair, though, except for when Benson was doing his job and had convinced the jurors that Trent was a killer, he’d been nothing but nice, if not wonderful. And when he looked at her a certain way, it often turned her insides to mush.
If Ariel didn’t halt that sensual pull and soon, she’d never be able to prove her brother’s innocence.
CHAPTERSIX
The coffee shopwasn’t crowded, which was probably why Benson allowed her to pick where she wanted to sit. He was acting a bit strangely, but perhaps being in the prison unsettled him just as it had her.
No sooner had they slid into the booth than a waitress came over. They both ordered coffee and a sweet roll.
“Great minds think alike,” he said.
