Cindi Myers - Black Canyon Conspiracy

“If I could have your attention.” Graham stood at the front of the room and held up one hand. A hush settled over the crowd. Lauren clenched her hands into fists and fought to keep still; the tension was contagious.

The captain cleared his throat. “The grand jury has failed to indict Richard Prentice of any of the charges against him,” he said.

Chapter Four

Lauren blinked, sure she had heard the captain wrong. He must mean the grand jury had indicted Richard Prentice, right? She turned to Marco, his face the stone mask of an Aztec warrior. “What’s happening?” she asked.

“Somehow, Prentice managed to get off,” he said.

“I don’t understand,” she said, still dazed. “He kidnapped me. He held me prisoner. You saw where he was keeping me.”

“We saw.” Rand’s expression was as grim as everyone else’s. Even Lotte, who stood by his side, looked upset. “We know you’re telling the truth, not just about the kidnapping, but about the other crimes he’s involved in.”

“At least you believe me,” Lauren said. “The jury obviously didn’t. They believed Richard when he said I was making everything up.”

“Maybe it wasn’t you,” Marco said. “Maybe it was something else.”

“They didn’t believe me because they think I’m crazy,” she said. “I’m mentally ill, so of course I must be a liar, too. I made the whole thing up. It was a wild fantasy I concocted just to get attention.” Online columnists and bloggers had already wasted plenty of bandwidth speculating on the reasons for Lauren’s “obsession” with the billionaire. Because of course, why would he ever be obsessed with her? Sure, she was pretty, they said. But she had a history of wild behavior. So of course, her side of the story couldn’t be trusted.

“Prentice is trying to distract people by making this case about you,” Marco said. “It’s a game he’s playing, but it’s a game he isn’t going to win.”

“What will you do?” she asked.

“We’ll have to start over.” Captain Ellison joined them. “We’re going to work the case as if it’s brand-new, reexamining every lead, taking a second look at every bit of evidence. I want everyone focused on this. It’s going to take a lot of long days and hard work, but we’ll build a case the prosecution can’t deny.”

Around her, heads lifted and shoulders straightened. The anger they’d felt moments earlier transformed into determination to see justice done. Lauren wished their energy was contagious, but she was still reeling from the knowledge that what had happened to her had been so easily dismissed by the twenty-three members of the grand jury. She touched Marco’s arm. “I’ll go now and let you get to work.”

“Let me go with you,” he said. He pulled keys from his pocket.

“No, you’re needed here.” She looked around the room. Already, members of the task force were pulling out files and booting up computers, ready to get to work.

“It’s not safe for you to be alone,” Marco said.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll call Sophie to come pick me up.” It wasn’t as if she could drive her wrecked car. “Now that he’s swayed the grand jury, Prentice knows I’m no threat.”

He was going to argue with her, she could tell, but the door burst open and Emma stalked in, the heels of her stilettos striking the tile floor so hard Lauren expected to see sparks. Jaw clenched, eyes blazing, she looked ready to punch someone. “Hello, Emma,” Graham said, as calm as ever. “I take it you heard the news about Richard Prentice.”

Emma set her bag down on the edge of a desk. “Officially, I’m here to get your statement on this turn of events for my story,” she said. “Unofficially, I need to vent to someone who understands my frustration. How could they do this? How could they ignore all the evidence you had against him?”

“We’ll never know for sure, but I’m guessing they interpreted everything as circumstantial,” Graham said. “We don’t have fingerprints, tape recordings or any written records, and only one eyewitness.”

“Whom they don’t consider reliable,” Lauren said. She blocked any protests they might have made. “Don’t deny it. I’m not.”

“He is doing a smear campaign against you,” Emma said. “My editor sent me a copy of the press release Prentice issued this afternoon.”

“What does it say?” Michael asked.

She leaned against the desk and pulled up the press release on her phone. “There’s a bunch of malarkey about justice being done, proves his innocence, blah, blah, blah.” She waved her hand. “But here’s the part about Lauren. ‘It is painful to know my friend Lauren Starling is so ill. I can find no other explanation for why she would attack the one man who truly tried to help her. I hope she will find the help she needs to get well. On her behalf I am making a generous donation toward mental health research.’” She made a face. “Excuse me while I vomit. The man is disgusting.”

Everyone gathered around Emma to examine the press release and rehash the grand jury’s ruling. Lauren took the opportunity to slip outside, where she texted Sophie to pick her up at Ranger headquarters.

She slipped the phone back into her purse and walked over to the gazebo at the far end of the parking lot, which offered a view of the canyon that gave the park its name. The Black Canyon of the Gunnison plunged more than twenty-five hundred feet down to the Gunnison River. Sun penetrated the bottom for only a few hours each day, giving the canyon its name. The land around the gorge shimmered in the early August sun, wind rustling the silvery leaves of sage and rattling the dry cones of stunted piñons.

When Lauren had first arrived here over two months ago the harsh landscape had repelled, even frightened her. She saw nothing beautiful in dry grasses and empty land. The quiet and emptiness of this place made her feel too small and alone.

But her weeks of captivity had changed her opinion of this place. With nothing to do in the early days of her stay at Prentice’s mansion—before he moved her into the abandoned mine—she’d spent hours staring out at the prairie. She’d learned to appreciate the stillness of the land, which had called forth a similar stillness within her. She began to see beauty in the thousand shades of green and brown in the grasses and trees. Now the emptiness that had once repelled her calmed her.

The squeal of brakes announced the arrival of a car. Lauren turned to see Sophie’s blue sedan pulling into the lot. She hurried to her sister and slid into the passenger seat.

“I can’t believe it,” Sophie said before Lauren could speak. “Rand just called and told me Richard Prentice is getting off scot-free.”

“I guess so.” Lauren buckled her seat belt and leaned back against the headrest.

“What are we going to do?” Sophie asked.

Lauren closed her eyes. She was so tired. “Right now, I just want to go home,” she said.

Sophie put the car in gear and backed out of the lot. “Is something wrong?” she asked after a moment. “Are you not feeling well?”

“I’m okay. I took an extra pill and it’s making me a little sleepy.” She hoped that was all it was. Sometimes lethargy was a sign of depression.

“Why did you take an extra pill? Should you be doing that?” Sophie’s voice rose in alarm.

Lauren opened her eyes. “It’s okay. That’s what the doctor said to do.”

“You talked to your doctor? Why?”

She knew better than to ignore the question. Sophie wouldn’t let it go. She’d always been like that, never giving in on anything. Lauren should be grateful; Sophie’s refusal to give up on her had led to her coming to Montrose and prodding the Rangers into finding her.