Chapter 57 Amber

Amber's journey to the Gunnison County Jail, where she was now housed awaiting bail, had been fraught with indignity. They'd confiscated all her cash, and after her hearing before a judge in New York, the FBI had turned her over to two police officers from Colorado who had slapped handcuffs on her as they escorted her back on a commercial flight in full view of everyone. Her attorney was working on finding her the best criminal attorney in Colorado, but in the meantime, he had sent some shmuck who looked like he'd just graduated from law school. She'd kicked him out after ten minutes, when it became clear he was a moron.

She sat up in bed, if you could call the hard cot in her cell a bed, and stretched. The prison uniform itched, and it galled her that she wasn't allowed to take it off even to sleep. She'd already gotten in trouble for that. Why the hell she couldn't sleep in her undies she had no idea. It's not like there was another person in her cell. But there were rules for everything in this godforsaken place. She had the seventeen-page inmate handbook to prove it. Last night she'd brought a bag of chips from dinner to her cell. She didn't know that if she didn't eat it before lockdown, the guards would take it. It was almost like they got a kick out of making arbitrary rules just to screw with you. Her hair felt like straw from the cheap off-brand shampoo they gave her, and the soap left her skin dry and itchy. This was hell and she'd only been here for a few days. And this was a small-town jail. She didn't allow herself to imagine what it would be like if she got sent to prison.

She could play the good girl, though. She had to bide her time only until she could post bail.

"Lana. You can use the phone now." Amber flinched at the use of her given name. She wasn't Lana Crump anymore, but according to the system she was. Eddie, the day guard, opened her cell. She gave him her most charming smile. "Thank you, Eddie. How was your night? Did you watch that movie I recommended?"

He smiled at her. "Yeah. It was cool. Had no idea how Jordans got so popular. Thanks."

When she'd noticed he had a sneaker fetish, she'd recommended the movie Air. She was nothing if not adept at spotting a person's hot buttons and using them to her advantage. He escorted her to the pay phone and she called Scott Hamon, the attorney who'd represented Jackson. Once she was put through, she wasted no time on pleasantries.

"What's up with my bail?"

"As you know, your husband is in the hospital and unable to post your bail. I have the name of a bail bondsman out there. You'll need fifteen percent of the two million dollars bail and he'll guarantee the rest. So, three hundred thousand dollars."

She rolled her eyes. He'd told her about Jackson's assault a few days ago. She should have felt sorry for him, but she didn't. Whoever beat the shit out of him must have had their reasons. Jackson wasn't short on enemies. He wouldn't have paid her bail anyway. She could just imagine how much he would love to see her sitting in jail. There was no one else. Remi was her only friend in town, and she was in Paris. She thought a moment. "I've given you my power of attorney. Take a loan out on the house. It's worth almost a hundred times my bail."

"Well, that's the thing. The house isn't in your name. I already tried that."

"What do you mean it's not in my name? After we were married, Jackson had me sign paperwork to put me on the deed." She thought back, trying to visualize it in her mind's eye. Had he faked her out? "Are you sure?"

"Quite. The house is held entirely by him, and Daphne has his power of attorney."

She could feel her face burning up as anger coursed through her body. That idiot had really believed Daphne was coming back to him. How stupid could he be? She shook her head. "Doesn't matter. I have the money. I'd transfer it but they took my phone." Shit. She had to think. "Okay, okay. Look, I have plenty in an offshore account. I can transfer or wire the money, but I need my phone. You have to arrange to pick my things up from the holding area here." She thought of something else. She had a debit card for the account. Maybe that could be used to transfer the money instead of her having to get the guards to allow her to handle her phone. "There's a debit card hidden at the house. It's in a waterproof bag in the kayak in the boathouse. You should have no trouble getting it."

"Okay, I'll go there now."

"Do whatever you have to do. Get the money to the new firm or whatever but get me the hell out of here. I can hardly breathe in here. I'm going crazy."

"You didn't like the first guy we sent, even though he came highly recommended. You want the best, you need to give me a chance to get a better referral. Just sit tight. Someone will be there soon, I promise."

"I certainly hope so."

Eddie approached. "Time's up. Lana."

She hung up and went back to her cell, still fuming, and lay down on the cot. She had to get her hands on that damn money and get the hell out of this town where there were only bad memories. The last time she'd left Gunnison, Jake was dead and she was newly widowed and rich. Or so she'd thought, until she'd learned after his funeral that his will had left her nothing. This time when she left it would be different. She really would be rich, and she'd never look back. She'd always known this day was possible. Oh, not that she'd be arrested for murder, but that her misdeeds in Missouri would catch up to her. That's why she'd spent thousands of dollars preparing a contingency plan. The idea came to her after Jackson went to prison and she had free rein over the finances. For enough money, anything could be had. She'd paid to have a new passport, license, and birth certificate in a different name. Once her bail was posted and she got out of here, she'd get her new credentials from the safe-deposit box and abscond. She'd be strolling along a European cobblestone street before they even realized she was gone. Amber would never come back to the United States, it was too risky, and this country was on the decline anyway. She could even affect a new accent, French perhaps. Her future was in Europe. She fell asleep dreaming about all the fabulous clothes she'd buy in Paris.

"Lana, wake up."

She turned over and squinted at the figure standing at her cell door. Eddie. "What?" she said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

"You made bail, Lana. You're free to go."

"What do you mean?"

"Like I said, you made bail. It's paid. He's here for you," Eddie said, unlocking the cell door.

She smiled. So Jackson's lawyer had finally got his ass in gear. With what he was charging, it was a good thing. Elation filled her as she pictured her new life. Her only regret was that she wouldn't be there to see the look on Daisy Ann's face when she realized Amber had finally beat her.

After paperwork and processing, Amber, holding a bag with her possessions, was escorted to the man responsible for posting bail. She'd been informed that while she couldn't leave the country, she didn't have to stay in Colorado until the trial. How stupid did they think she was? Not only would she be leaving Colorado, but she'd be leaving the United States as well.

"It's about time someone did their job," she said to the man waiting for her. The man merely raised an eyebrow.

"The car is right outside."

"Great, you can drop me off at the airport. I can't wait to get out of this Podunk town."

Together they walked outside into the bright sunshine where a black sedan sat waiting. She took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air of freedom and grinning. This was the first step in the beginning of her exciting new life.

The man accompanying her opened the trunk and reached out to take her bag. She clutched it to her chest—the three pink diamonds were mixed in with her jewelry in the little pouch she'd packed.

He gave her a strange look. "Your bag will be safe in the trunk."

Reluctantly she handed it to him, realizing she was being silly.

He opened the door of the car and she slid into the back seat. She heard the click of a lock as the car pulled away. There was a man in the front passenger seat but Amber couldn't get a good look at him. He didn't turn around when he spoke.

"So nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Parrish."

Something was wrong. The energy in the car felt charged. Amber leaned forward, trying to get a better look at him. "Are you my new attorney?"

"No. I'm actually an associate of your husband's."

Confusion clouded her face. "An associate…what does that mean?"

"My business with your husband was sadly interrupted. But he did inform me that you have something of mine." He turned to look at her, and Amber saw her face reflected in the red lenses of the glasses he wore.