Page 25 of Three Steps Behind

“Is it a deal?” Aubry asked.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll do it.”

“Great. Gather your belongings. Change out of the prison clothes—though I must say orange suits you.”

It was a dig, but she’d never have to put that horrid orange jumpsuit on again, because once she was out, she was never coming back.

“I’ll meet you outside the gate in twenty.”

“In twenty.” She rose from the table and headed for her cell. This would be the easiest gig she’d worked. No way Dalton was the man Aubry Marshall was purporting him to be.

Twelve

“I HEAR you’re out of here today,” Tia said as Bristol passed her friend—one of a few she’d made.

“Yep.”

“You’ll miss us.”

“I’ll miss seeing you, but I definitely won’t miss this place.”

Tia shook her head. “No one does.”

“Okay,” Lulu said outside her cell door. “Go ahead and get changed. Your clothes are in the bag, change into them, then pack your belongings in the bag.” She tossed a yellow plastic bag at her. “Then I’ll escort you out.”

“Thanks.” The bag was probably overkill. She had very little to take. Some cards from Dalton, a teddy bear from him, and the photograph she never left anywhere without.

Lulu turned her back while she changed into the clothes she’d been wearing at the time of her arrest. A slim-fitting white dress, a pair of nude Louboutin heels, and her favorite diamond necklace from Dalton.

“All done,” she said. She’d never thought it’d feel so great to slip into her own clothes.

“Be safe and smart,” Lulu said.

“Always.”

Agent Marshall stood at the end of the gated walkway. Her heels wobbled over the rock-strewn path, but she managed to stay erect.

His eyes widened as he turned around, his gaze skimming over her.

Was that attraction there? Nah. No way. She must be off her game with the excitement of walking out that gate and never having to hear the clang of cell doors shutting again.

Reading people was her talent. Deck’s too, but she didn’t go there. Couldn’t go there. Anyway, she could have sworn that when Aubry looked at her, there’d been something there, but she laughed at the absurdity of it.

“What’s funny?” he asked, slipping his sunglasses on.

“Nothing.” She smirked.

He pushed off the chain link fence. “A little dressed up for this.”

“It’s what I had on when you arrested me. Besides, since when is a cocktail dress too dressed up?”

“We can stop at a store to get you clothes and things you’ll be needing,” he offered.

“Thanks, but Dalton kept my apartment for me. All my stuff will be there. I told him he didn’t have to, but he insisted.”

“Oh, he kept it, all right.”

She narrowed her eyes, then raised her hand to shelter them from the direct sunlight spilling over her. “What is that supposed to mean?”