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  “Cora, he’s here.” Her low voice squeaked.

  “Don’t panic. Just get out of there.”

  Lara fumbled flashing her card at the ticket machine as she kept watching the man on the motorcycle. He hadn’t moved. The bar slowly raised up. Not looking behind her, she burned rubber peeling out of the garage.

  “I’m out, Cora.”

  “Is he following you?”

  “No, but I think I’m in real trouble. I think the man on the motorcycle and Mr. Hartley’s weird visit were both warnings.”

  “Does this mean you’re not going to represent Griff?” Her sad voice tugged at Lara’s determination.

  “No. Cora, I think there’s more going on here than just a building being burned down. Mr. Hartley’s hiding something, and I’m going to find out what it is.” Her voice sounded braver and stronger than she felt. She was just a peon, taking on a corporate power house.

  “Call me when you get home.”

  “Sure, I will.”

  Within minutes, she was at her home safe and sound. She peered out of her plantation shutters, but didn’t see or hear a motorcycle.

  Her phone rang and she picked it up without thinking.

  “Cora, I’m home.”

  “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t go to the parole hearing tomorrow,” a menacing voice warned.

  Her heart jumped around inside like a jack rabbit. “Who is this?” Her voice was hard and loud.

  The phone immediately went dead.

  Lara sat slowly on her couch and stared at her phone. An unknown number. The man on the motorcycle?

  What had Seth and Cora and Gerri Wilder gotten her into? Why did PASS want Griff to remain behind bars? Did he remember something that would hurt them? Maybe he knew something, something small, that he didn’t even realize was significant. She was now more convinced than ever he was innocent. An innocent man serving a twelve year sentence for a crime he didn’t commit.

  It was up to her. She had no doubt tomorrow at that parole hearing he’d be railroaded again. He didn’t deserve that.

  She called Cora and told her about the threat.

  “You can’t go down to Buena Vista by yourself tomorrow, Lara. Seth and I will go with you.”

  “I’d like to go tonight.”

  “Fine. How about if we drive and you leave your car at your house?”

  Lara’s stomach twisted into a tight ball of fear. “You think I’ll be followed if I drive by myself, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Gerri’s coming, too.”

  Lara exhaled a shaky breath. She was relieved she’d have a wolf and two tigers to protect her from motorcycle man. “Okay, pick me up in about an hour.”

  “See you then.”

  Within an hour, Lara was packed and ready.

  Seth pulled up in their SUV and honked. Lara grabbed her small suitcase, her laptop, and brief case. She flew out the door, looking cautiously up and down the street, but didn’t see a motorcycle.

  “Hey, Lara.” Seth was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans like always. He gave her a big hug then he gripped her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

  She tilted her head up. “Yes, I’m fine.” Not exactly true. “But I don’t back down easily.”

  “Hi Lara.” Cora reached over the front seat and squeezed her hand. “You okay?”

  “I am now, since my troops are here.”

  “Good.” He took her bags. “I’ll put these in the back.”

  “Thanks.” She climbed into the SUV and skidded next to Gerri who looked at her with concern.

  Gerri patted her knee. “I’m sorry, honey. PASS never plays fair.”

  “I’m beginning to see that.” She frowned. “Gerri, why do you think PASS is determined to keep Griff in jail?”

  She frowned. “I honestly don’t know. I’ve been going over this puzzle in my head. I think they’re trying to protect their arsonist, or Griff knows something that could jeopardize their organization.”

  “Like what?”

  Gerri shrugged. “Hell, if I know.”

  Nothing eventful happened on the way down to Buena Vista. Snow had touched the peaks of the Sawatch Range mountains. The Buena Vista Correctional Complex was the first thing Lara saw as Seth pulled into town. The blue and gray tower rose over the prison, but the Sawatch Range mountains behind the prison made it look puny. An old barrack style building with a green tile roof was where Griff Reese lived. What secrets was he hiding?

  Seth glanced in the rearview mirror. “Do you really think you can get my brother out of there?”

  “Yes, I do.” Her strong voice hid the doubt lodging in her throat. What lengths would Mr. Hartley go to keep Griff in prison?

  No sense worrying about it. Tomorrow she’d have the answers. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and she trembled. She just hoped they all came out of Buena Vista in one piece.

  The next day, Lara was a bundle of nerves, but she managed to put on her no-nonsense strict attorney face. Seth parked the car in the visiting parking lot. “You ready for this?”

  “You bet I am.” She got out of the car and immediately inhaled the sweet smile of pine and shivered at the crisp morning air. She grabbed her purse and briefcase with her clammy hands.

  They all three walked in silence up to the guard house. Griff’s hearing was at precisely nine. Lara’s thumping heart was louder than their clamping footsteps on the pavement. She glanced at their tight faces, but none of them were looking at her.

  Cora’s face was drawn and she was looking around the grounds as if she was afraid the boogey man would pop out. “Do you think your Mr. Hartley will be here?”

  Gerri shook her head. “No. Jason Hartley doesn’t like to get his hands dirty. He’ll have some underling do his dirty work.”

  Lara nodded her head. “Agreed.”

  Based on the reports, she’d come to the conclusion that this was a professional job. Someone knew what they were doing, how to cover their tracks, and leave someone holding the match. In this case, Griff Reese.

  She figured it had to be either Kevin Brown or Grant Sellars. Or was there a third player involved. The only one who had the answers was locked inside.

  A guard greeted them from behind a metal door. “Good morning, what is your business?”

  “I’m Lara Black, attorney for Griff Reese. He has a parole hearing at 9:00 AM.” She held up her badge.

  “And they are?”

  Lara gestured. “This is Gerri Wilder, witness for defense, and the other two are family members of Mr. Reese. His brother and sister-in-law.”

  “Identification, please?” A metal drawer pushed out.

  Gerri, Seth, and Cora all put their driver’s license inside the drawer.

  The guard examined each license and studied Gerri, Seth, and Cora. He scanned each of the licenses and looked at a screen.

  He buzzed them inside the prison and handed back the licenses. “Stand here, please.” He took out a security wand. “Please put your purses and bags on the conveyor belt.”

  Lara put her purse, laptop, and briefcase on the belt. Gerri and Cora followed suit with their purses. The guard then rolled his wand over each of them. Nothing beeped.

  He gestured toward the metal detector. “Please put your hands over your head.”

  She nodded, feeling like she was the one who had committed a crime.

  “I need to know where the parole hearing would be held.”

  He checked his iPad. “For Griff Reese, it will be in Conference Room A, one hundred. It’s down the hall and to your left.” He frowned. “You’re about an hour early.”

  Lara wiped her sweaty palms on her jacket. “I know. I wanted to time to prepare. Is the room available?”

  “Yes.” He pointed to double doors. A guard sat at a desk. “Check in with the guard. He’ll let all of you inside. It’s the first room on your left.”

  Lara smiled, hiding the fear clawing her insides. “Thank you.” She’d never conducted a hearing where someone
had threatened her. People usually didn’t get up in arms over intellectual property.

  Seth ran his hand through his hair. “This place sucks. I hope you can get him out of here.”

  She winked. “I will.”

  He didn’t smile and sighed heavily. His lack of confidence weighed heavy on her.

  Lara glanced at a round oval silver mirror that was above a guard next to the double doors. In the reflection, a tall muscular man with his white hair pulled back in a tight ponytail caught her attention. He had a patch over one eye and reminded her of a pirate.

  She stopped and gasped.

  Cora clasped her arm. “Lara, what’s wrong?”

  Chills trampled down the back of Lara’s spine.

  “Lara?” Gerri looked behind them. “Is there anything wrong?”

  Another mirror reflected the back of his leather jacket that had the PASS symbol on it. Crap, he was here.

  He watched her and a smile spread across his face that reminded her of a serial killer ready to gut his victim.

  Don’t show fear.

  “Nothing.” She marched toward the guard. “I thought I saw someone I knew.”

  Lara felt the man’s eyes on her back and refused to look over her shoulder at him. Gerri, Cora, and Seth hurried to catch up with her.

  Seth stood in front of her. “What gives?”

  Not wanting to cause a commotion and risk Griff’s parole hearing, she raised an eyebrow. “Nothing. I need to prepare before the hearing. Or do you want to stand and argue, making me lose this case?”

  He looked over her head. “You were looking at a guy, weren’t you?” He released a low growl.

  “Attacking him won’t help your brother, Seth.”

  Seth clamped his mouth shut, but there was murder in his eyes. She should be scolding him for jeopardizing her case, but the coward in her, wanted a tiger, ready to spring and attack her enemy.

  Chapter 5

  Deputy Mason escorted Griff to his parole hearing. He was led down a tunnel that then took an elevator that rose up to the main floor. Griff’s wrists were bound behind his back and his feet shackled, but it was his heart and lungs that were wound up tighter than his restraints. He’d paced back and forth all night. He knew he looked like a mess, but God, he had to get out of this place.

  “No smart statements, Griff?”

  “No.” Griff’s tight throat barely got the word out.

  “For what it’s worth, hope the trial goes well for you.”

  Griff nodded, but didn’t answer. His heart beat faster than the damn elevator. All his hopes were piled into his sexy mate that waited behind these doors. The doors opened up to a court room. Not like when he’d been convicted, but just as foreboding.

  Two men and three women sat in stuffed chairs behind a long mahogany table. Microphones were posed at each one of them. Not one of them smiled at him.

  He forced his shaking legs to move.

  Lara Black sat at a smaller table and gave her winning smile that eased some of the tightness in his chest. Mason led him to the chair and unlocked his wrists.

  “Behave,” he whispered in his ear.

  Griff rubbed his wrists.

  “Are you ready?” Lara clasped his arm.

  Tingles swept over him like lightning, ending right at his cock. He groaned inside. How could he concentrate when all he wanted to do was rip her clothes off and fuck her?

  “Yes.” It was all he could choke out.

  Sweat trickled down his temples and he thought he’d melt like the witch in the Wizard of Oz.

  Behind Lara and the small table, there were three rows of chairs where people could watch the outcome of his future. Seth and Cora set in the first row, but they were the only ones here. His mother was sadly absent. Seth gave him a thumb’s up and Cora pressed her palms together as if in a prayer. He took a shaky breath. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was glad they were there.

  But then the door opened. Heat swelled inside him, every muscle tensed ready to pounce, and his tiger roared. Grant Sellars swaggered into the room like he owned it.

  With his patch over his left eye, he looked like a pirate. He stared at him with a green eye full of hate.

  Lara leaned close. “What’s wrong?”

  “Why is Grant Sellars here?”

  She glanced nervously over her shoulder. “That’s Grant Sellars?”

  “Yes.” Something about her voice made him study her. Her hands were shaking, and he inhaled the scent of her perspiration. Fear was lurking right below the surface, but her face showed anything but fear. Her eyes were fierce and her chin lifted high as if she were the one who owned the courtroom, not Grant.

  The hackles on the back of his neck stood up. “Did he do something to you?” His tiger threatened to burst through, his muscles expanding, rippling underneath his shirt, but the silver cuffs cut into his wrists. He winced and hissed. Pain pushed on his muscles, forcing them back.

  Lara touched his arm. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” But his voice shook, and he was far from fine. Acid burned in his gut and slowly crawled up his throat.

  A fortyish looking man with slick dark hair and a suit looked at them, then spoke into the microphone. “We are here for a possible parole for Mr. Griff Reese. My name is John Rears, and I’ve been a law officer for the Buena Vista Sheriff’s Department for five years. I will be the chair for this hearing.”

  A young woman with blond hair answered next. “I’m Cynthia Williams, and I was a probation officer for Chaffee County for eight years.”

  “I’m Jillian Doyle. I have served as a prosecutor for the county of Chaffee County.” She had glasses on the end of her beak nose and could win a contest for the most judgmental librarian.

  The fourth man could be Santa Clause with his white eyebrows and fluffy beard. “I’m Frank Evans, and I’m a former judge of the eleventh district court of Chaffee County.”

  The last one was a thirty something man who kept looking at his watch with an annoyed look on his face. “I’m Steve Chambers, and I was a former defense attorney for the Chaffe County’s Public Defenders Office.”

  “Now, that we have made introductions of the parole officers on this hearing. We can begin,” John said.

  “I’m Lara Black, defense attorney for Griff Reese.” Her voice was clear and strong despite Grant shaking her up just a few minutes ago.

  “Griff Reese,” Griff mumbled. He could barely get the words out and forced himself not to turn around and glare at Grant.

  John picked up a paper. “If the board members can look at the report in front of them. We have a report from the warden, Sam Wallace. If the board could review it and make comments.” His bored voice sent Griff’s over-taut nerves to the point of unraveling, but he managed to keep his good prisoner face on.

  “If I may,” Lara interrupted. “According to the report, Mr. Reese has been a model prisoner and has attended therapy while incarcerated. His therapist, Randy Denham, has stated that Mr. Reese is ready to be released into the community.”

  Steve Chambers put down the paper. “Mr. Reese, do you plan on continuing therapy if you were released from this institution?”

  No.

  But he lied. “Yes, I do.”

  The uptight librarian, Jillian Doyle, looked at him as if he were a bug that needed to be squished. “I’d like to know why you were at Graystone Manor.”

  It was in the record. The bitch was testing him.

  “I went there to buy weed.” He almost blurted out Grant’s name, but that would send him down a mine shaft.

  “And what happened after you bought the weed?”

  “I smoked it. I passed out, then woke up to people screaming.”

  She clicked her tongue. “I see.”

  “Arson is a very serious crime, Mr. Reese,” the little blonde said. “How do we know that you will not commit such an atrocity again?”

  Blood surged through him. Griff wanted to claim his innocence, but he knew if he
did, he would land back in his cell with no option of parole. “Because I know I won’t.”

  A low growl emitted from behind him.

  “Seth,” Cora warned.

  “There will be no transformations in this hearing.” John’s voice had a hint of fear.

  “If you look at the report, Ms. Williams…” Lara pointed on the paper. Her matter-of-fact voice seemed to distract the board from the pissed off tiger behind him. “On page two, paragraph four, Mr. Reese’s therapist, Mr. Denham, has reported that Mr. Reese is at minimal risk for committing another fire.”

  Ms. William turned the page and remained silent.

  “I have character witnesses who were not allowed to testify at Mr. Reese’s trial, and would like to testify on his behalf.”

  “Very well. Who is your first witness?”

  Lara stood. “I call Gerri Wilder.”

  A storm of flutters flew around Griff’s gut. He jerked his head to Lara, but she didn’t look at him. What could Gerri Wilder say? Besides whoever was his mate.

  “Bailiff Jacobs, would you please escort Ms. Wilder into the court room?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The bailiff returned with Gerri Wilder who was shorter than he’d expected, but she held her chin up high and her black and white streaked hair rolled down her back. She sat in the witness chair and didn’t flinch at the board’s curious stares.

  “Raise your right hand, Ms. Wilder,” Bailiff Jacobs said.

  Gerri raised her right hand.

  “Do you tell the truth and nothing but the truth?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Thank you, Bailiff.” He returned to stand next to the door, leading back to jail.

  John motioned. “You may proceed, Ms. Black.”

  “Thank you.” Lara looked at Gerri. “Ms. Wilder, could you tell us what happened on May twenty-eighth?”

  “I was at my friend’s apartment, Sandy Mason. She lived at Graystone Manor.”

  Lara walked toward the witness stand. “What was her address?”

  “Her address was two-twenty-one Moore Street.”

  Griff stilled and squeezed his fists, trying to remember Gerri being there, but his mind drew a blank.