Trial Junkies

— 54 -

They put him in a cell downstairs.

He sat there for the rest of the morning and late into the afternoon, convinced that the discovery of the scissors would pretty much seal the deal for Abernathy. Ronnie was toast unless Hutch could get the ADA or the judge or even Waverly to listen to reason.

But he'd pretty much blown any chance of that ever happening.

What the hell had possessed him to barge in on them like that? What weird glitch in his thought process had led him to believe they'd be receptive to the ravings of a post rehab has-been?

Hutch had always been a creature of impulse-impulses that had often gotten him into trouble-and now here he was again, a victim of his own irrational behavior. Worse still, Ronnie would suffer because of it, too.

But he refused to give up. There had to be a way to get her out of this.

The question was how?

With Frederick Langer possibly in the wind, how could they ever prove anything against him? Hell, they didn't even know where he lived, for chrissakes-and following him had been an exercise in futility, not to mention humiliation.

Hutch might have his heart in the right place, he might actually (for once in his miserable life) be playing the good friend, but right now Ronnie needed a miracle worker, and Hutch had spent the last nine months just learning to stand up straight and not piss himself.

The truth was, the only thing he'd ever been any good at was acting, and even that had turned out to be a sham perpetrated by Jenny's father. He'd gotten lucky and the show had managed to beat the odds and become a hit, but once he left, his career had spiraled, along with the rest of his life.

So what exactly was he looking for here?

Redemption?

Forgiveness?

He had no fucking clue. He just didn't want to see Ronnie go to jail. To see her spend the better part of her life-maybe her entire life-separated from that little boy, or even the cold fish of a mother who blamed her for everything wrong in her life.

The truth was, Hutch cared far more about Ronnie than he had ever intended, and had actually begun to see the possibility of a future with her. A relationship that wasn't based on benefits, but on-and here was that word again-love.

Jesus.

What the hell did he know about such things? Hutch was a rolling disaster and had proven that quite nicely today, thank you. Even if Ronnie were to go scot-free, why would he inflict himself on her? She may have worshipped him from afar, but all she had to do was get up close and stay there long enough, and the feeling would quickly fade away.

Just look at him now. Sitting here in a jail cell throwing a pity party of the highest magnitude. Who the hell wanted to hang around with that?

Nobody, that's who.

Even Hutch needed a break from himself.

He didn't know what time it was when Waverly showed up. Court was obviously done for the day, but without the benefit of a watch or a window, his timekeeping skills were poor to nonexistent.

He was sitting there still feeling sorry for himself, still wondering how he could fix things for Ronnie, when the gate at the end of the cell block rolled open and a pair of heels clicked down the hallway toward him.

Then Waverly came into view wearing a somber, weary expression. "You look pretty relaxed for a man behind bars."

"Gotta save my energy for the big escape tonight. Did you look at that file?"

"Forget about the file," she said. "I'm not here for that."

"What, then?"

"I spoke to the judge after court and blamed your irrational behavior on your misguided sense of loyalty. When he isn't shouting obscenities, he can be a reasonable man."

"He's letting me go?"

"Only if you agree to cooperate with the police."

Hutch balked. "About what?"

"You sure you don't know?"

There was a look on her face that said he should, but Hutch was clueless. "Are you talking about the Tillman suicide? They already grilled me about-"

"This is a lot more important than Tillman. Or you sitting in a jail cell."

"Okay…" Hutch said, feeling guarded now but not sure why. "Then what are we talking about?"

"They want to know where she is, Hutch."

He frowned. "Where who is?"

She studied him carefully, as if assessing his sincerity. "You really don't know, do you?"

"Know what? I swear to Christ if you don't spit it out I'm gonna reach through these bars and throttle you."

She studied him a moment longer. "During court this afternoon, we took a short break and Ronnie went to the restroom. She never came back."

Hutch gaped at her. "What?"

"She went to your apartment, assaulted her mother, then grabbed her son and took off for parts unknown." Waverly paused. "And the police think you helped her."