“Yeah, that’s her.”

“Just tell her I’m okay and I’ll call her later. She might leave then.”

“I think Scott was about to cave and let her back.”

That didn’t surprise me. Neely Kate was a force to be reckoned with.

“No one else?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, thanks.” I sat down on the cot with my tray and lifted a slice of bread. Bologna. And nothing else. I hadn’t eaten a bologna sandwich since I was a kid. Wrinkling my nose, I set the tray on the mattress and leaned my head back against the wall. I decided to look on the bright side. Maybe I’d lose weight.

“I hear some inmates are repeat offenders just to come back for the bologna sandwiches.”

My head jerked up in surprise. Mason Van de Camp Deveraux III stood in front of my cell, one hand gripping a metal bar. His usually neat hair looked a little ruffled. His jacket was missing and his tie hung loose, the top button of his shirt undone.

“You here to gloat?”

His mouth pursed and he leaned his forehead against the bars. “Nope. No gloating here.”

“Then what are you doin’ here?” Why was I always so hateful to this man?

His other hand wrapped around a metal bar. “Something’s been bothering me all morning.”

I swallowed an ugly retort and raised my eyebrows instead. “And?”

He sighed and looked down at the floor before leveling his gaze on me. “You came to see me yesterday, but then we had our little run-in.” He paused, swallowing. “I can’t help but wonder why you were there. Especially in light of this morning’s revelations.”

Mercy sakes alive. Mr. Deveraux was not only being civil, but he was trying to be nice.

I shook my head, twisting my mouth. “That’s okay. You wouldn’t have believed me anyway.”

His eyes burned into mine. “Try me.”

I stood and moved in front of him, barely two feet away. “I probably would have chickened out, even if we hadn’t had our run-in.”

“Why? Am I really that scary?”

I laughed in spite of my irritation. “Yes, you are that scary. Just about everyone in the courthouse thinks you are.”

He smirked, one side of his mouth lifting into a grin. “Which explains the applause after you told me off in the hall yesterday.”

“They thought you had it coming.”

Tilting his head, he smiled. A genuine smile that made him appear ten years younger. When he relaxed his perpetual scowl, he was a handsome man, especially with his blond hair ruffled like it was. “I suppose I did.” He paused and his smile fell, but his guard was still down. “So why did you come see me before I interrupted you with my rudeness?”

I leaned my side against the bars and sighed. “I wanted to tell you that Mr. Decker is innocent.”

He turned his head to study me. “But you said you didn’t know anything about the case in voir dire. Did you lie?”

As nice as he was at the moment, I couldn’t tell him about the vision. He’d think I was crazy and they might send me to the county mental hospital instead. “No. I promise I didn’t lie. But I discovered something right before the trial started. I just didn’t know what it was at the time. But that’s why I ran into you that first morning. It scared me enough to make me not look where I was going and I ended up running into you.”

Mr. Deveraux stood up straighter, a hard look filling his eyes, and his voice lowered. “Did someone threaten you, Rose?”

“What?” I shook my head. “No. Nothing like that. But…it’s kind of like I overheard something.” Which technically was true.

“Help me understand and maybe I can get you out of here.”

I narrowed my gaze. “Why would you do that?”

His forehead wrinkled and he looked forlorn. “Maybe I want to prove I’m not such a bad guy, in spite of my previous behavior.”

“People might believe it if you were actually nice.”

A smile brightened his face as he laughed. “You know how to cut to the heart of it, don’t you?”

With a shrug, I leaned my head into the bars. “My sister would disagree. Look where I am now.”

“You’re in here because of me.”

I shook my head. “No, that’s not true.”

“If I had let you tell me what you came to say, maybe I could have talked some sense into you instead of sending you off.”

“And I’m tellin’ you I would have probably chickened out and things would have turned out the exact same way.”

“So tell me this: why were you snooping around Frank Mitchell’s house?”

“I was hoping to find out more about him and why someone would kill him.”

His eyes hardened, his worldliness returning. “We know exactly who killed him.”

“You’ve got the wrong man.”

“Then tell me what you know, Rose.”

What could I tell him? Joe said everything I knew was hearsay. Besides, Mason Deveraux wouldn’t believe me. Not that I blamed him.

Still, an innocent man’s life hung in the balance and I might be able to tip the scales in his favor. “Here’s what I know: Frank Mitchell owed people money. Bookies, from what I hear. I also know someone wanted Frank Mitchell to sell his house to them. Desperately enough to upset him. I also know, from you in the trial, that hardly any money was stolen. That doesn’t sound like much of a robbery to me.”