Judging Joshua. Mary Wilson Anne

be secured,” he said, then asked, “Are you comfortable?”

      She looked at him, those reflective glasses driving her crazy. She hated not being able to see his eyes. “Cool,” she muttered.

      She thought she saw the hint of a smile shadow his lips for a moment before he pulled out around the BMW. He waved to the other officer, then headed south. He shifted and she knew he was looking at her in the mirror again.

      “Nice clean car,” she said.

      That smile was almost there again. “Thanks.”

      She looked around the interior. “Dated, but dead-on clean.”

      “Are you a connoisseur of police cruisers?”

      She’d seen a few in her life, but this was not the first time she’d been in one and she wasn’t guilty of anything. She’d done everything to never ride in a cop car again, but here she was. The last time, she’d been guilty as heck, but not this time. The last time she’d gotten into the stolen car knowing it was stolen, and gone for a joyride with three kids she’d known she shouldn’t trust. The last time she’d been arrested, she’d thought she’d be in jail for the rest of her life. And she might have been, if she hadn’t been rescued.

      Riley looked at the cop who said his name was Joshua Pierce, and knew that there wouldn’t be a rescue this time. He took off his uniform cap, tossed it on the front seat, exposing thick dark hair flecked with gray at the temples, and she finally looked away and out the side window. A stone fence ran along the road then stopped at an elaborate entrance to some sort of estate or resort. They even had a guard by massive wooden gates. The guard looked up, waved, then glanced in the back seat at her. His hand stilled in the air.

      “You don’t get too many criminals around here, do you?” she asked.

      “Not usually,” he murmured.

      “I bet you’ll get some sort of medal for arresting a hardened criminal ready to take over this town.”

      He looked at her in the rearview mirror and she saw her own image reflected in his glasses. “One can only hope so,” he murmured.

      “That’s a joke, Officer, like this whole thing is a joke,” she muttered. One thing she’d learned as a teenager living on the streets was to keep things like fear to yourself. Never show weakness. And when she’d rebuilt her life, the same thing applied. When she’d had her interviews at the college with prospective employers once she’d earned her degree in physical therapy, she’d made very sure she didn’t let them know how scared she was or how desperate she was for a good job.

      “This isn’t a joke, Miss Shaw,” he said.

      She shrugged, but caught her handcuffs on the hard plastic of the seat. She looked out at the scenery, the rock fence gone as they slipped into what looked like a typical skiing community with shops and houses, ski lifts that were crowded with skiers, and more shops and restaurants. Everything looked determinedly “cute” and postcard-perfect.

      Finally they arrived at a security fence that swung open as they approached. The squad car pulled in next to the other cars in the lot and the cop exited and came around to where she sat.

      He pulled open her door and the cold air cut into the car. She shivered as she ducked to get out, her movements awkward without the use of her hands. He steadied her by holding her upper arm, and once she was on her feet they headed for the building.

      Within a minute they were inside and she was grateful for the warmth. She looked around at the wide central room that held several desks, lines of filing cabinets, and fronted what was probably the entry to the jail. A long, dark-wood reception desk separated the entry from the main room. This jail was anything but cute, like the town. It had worn wooden floors, wainscotting done in what looked like fake cherrywood, off-white walls adorned with Wanted posters and a huge message board.

      All police stations had that dull look to them, as if hope died in them. But she wasn’t going to let that happen to her. She’d prove her innocence and be back on the road in no time.

      Chapter Two

      The place looked empty until Joshua let Riley go and she heard, “Hey, there.” She turned to see a cop coming out of a rear area, through a metal lockdown door. The cell area. She knew without asking. He left the heavy door open and headed across to them, speaking to Joshua as he got closer. “Wes said you’d be back,” he said. He was older, maybe in his mid-fifties or so, with a discernable paunch under his uniform and a lopsided way of walking.

      “Charlie, this is Riley Shaw. Miss Shaw, this is Deputy Sloan, Acting Sheriff around here.”

      Riley nodded to the man, but he spoke directly to Joshua. “Is this the GTA you called in?”

      “Yes, I picked her up just past the inn, driving a stolen BMW.”

      He shook his head and laughed gruffly. “Well, I’ll be. You never know, do you? Do you want to take care of the case?”

      “It’s not a case,” Riley said quickly. “I’m not staying.”

      Charlie looked at her and actually smiled again. “Well, miss, I think you will be, even if it’s just while we straighten out this grand theft auto business.” He came around to undo her handcuffs, then tugged the metal bracelets off of her. “We’ll get these off, then get you settled in a cell until we can sort this out.”

      “No,” she said quickly, pulling her freed hands to the front and rubbing at her wrists. “No.” She was ready to dig in and make them drag her to the lock-down area.

      Joshua exhaled. “The cell is temporary, just until we see if you’re going to be booked or not.”

      “No, please, just…” She looked around, the idea of being locked up making her physically sick to her stomach. “Can’t I just sit in a chair? I mean, you can handcuff me to the chair or the desk. You know, one of those bars you screw to a desk? Anything. Just put the handcuffs back on and—” She held her hands out to Joshua, wrists together. “Just secure me anywhere out here.”

      “Sorry, you’ll have to go by our rules while you’re here,” he said, and slipped off his sunglasses.

      Damn, she’d wanted to see his eyes before, but when she met his unprotected gaze, eyes that were green with hazel flecks, she tensed horribly. Her stomach clenched so sharply that she had to press a hand to her middle. “Oh, man, I’m going to be sick,” she said in a low voice.

      “Don’t start histrionics,” Joshua said as he tucked the sunglasses into his jacket pocket, then looked at Charlie. “Is a cell ready?”

      “No, I mean it,” she gasped, swallowing hard to keep the nausea at bay. She was going to be sick, right here and now. “I’m sick. I…”

      She was looking at Joshua, the sickness coming in waves. Suddenly the world began to spin and blur, and before she could figure out what was going on, she was falling forward. She hit something solid, then she was being held and supported, but that didn’t stop her descent into a black void.

      JOSHUA HAD BARELY put his sunglasses away when he saw Riley Shaw go horribly pale, then proceed to faint dead away in his arms. At first he thought it was a ploy of some sort, but the instant she was in his arms, he knew it was for real. He gathered her deadweight, shifted to lift her in his arms and spoke to Charlie. “Get the door to the cell open.”

      “What’s going on?” Charlie asked as he rushed ahead of Joshua into the lockdown area.

      “She fainted,” he said, following Charlie.

      “Which cell?” Charlie asked.

      Joshua looked down the aisle with its row of six cells. Most were seldom used, and they were cookie-cutter copies of each other, with cots, toilets, sinks and one table each. He opted for the closest one. “Cell One,” he said, and Charlie flipped the switch on the wall to