“Not a bad idea,” he said sourly. “Look, I don’t know how you want to handle this. I can help you process bail for her, but I’m not sure if that’s what she wants or will accept even if—”

“I’ll come there,” Kendra said quickly, before even thinking it through. “I think I can be at your town a little after noon.”

“Well, she could definitely use a friend even if she won’t admit it. She’s being held at the Inyo County Jail in Independence. You got a pen?”

Kendra jotted down the address and prisoner number. “Thanks, Sergeant.” She hung up the phone.

She shook her head in bewilderment.

Beth Avery. In jail.

It was all wrong.

Beth had been illegally imprisoned for years by the corrupt director of a mental institution, and was only now beginning to taste the freedom that had been denied her for so long. Was it too much for her?

Possibly. Kendra remembered her own chaotic few years after she had first gained her sight. What she always referred to as her “wild days.” A world of sights and colors had finally been revealed to her, along with more freedom and independence than she ever imagined possible. She’d worried her friends and family sick in her relentless pursuit of every variety of sensory stimulation she could soak in.

A few nights in jail had also been part of her own package, Kendra remembered. As much as she said she didn’t regret anything in her wild days, she could have done without that particular experience. Or at least modified it a bit.

She picked up her phone and glanced through the calendar app. It was supposed to be a research day, compiling data for a music-therapy study she and a colleague at Tulane University were conducting.

It would have to wait.

Beth Avery needed her.

Inyo County Jail

12:30 P . M .

KENDRA SETTLED INTO THE tiny conference room, which usually hosted meetings between prisoners and their attorneys. The Inyo County Jail was located in the rural community of Independence, California, where miles of desert scrub brush collided improbably with a line of snowcapped mountains. She’d never had any reason to visit the place, and she doubted she ever would again.

The door swung open, and Beth Avery stepped into the room. She looked different than the last time Kendra had seen her. She liked the change. Beth was thinner than Kendra remembered her and wearing calf-high boots, jeans, and a blue plaid flannel shirt. But it was her demeanor that had undergone a transformation. Her color was high, and her blue eyes sparkled with energy. Despite her present situation, she was walking with a confident stride, altogether different from the hesitant gait she’d had after her release from the mental institution. Her shoulder-length dark hair flowed behind her with a healthy luster that had a vibrance of its own.

“Hi, Beth.”

Beth froze in her tracks as she caught sight of Kendra. She shook her head emphatically. “No. Only in case of emergency…”

“It seemed like it might head that way.” Kendra stood to give her a hug, but the guard gestured for her to back away.

“Does Eve know?” Beth asked.

“Not yet. I didn’t want to worry her until I found out what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Then you’ll worry her.”

“Probably.”

“No, it’s not necessary.” She took a seat at the small table, and Kendra sat across from her. “I’m sorry they called you, Kendra. I really wish they hadn’t.”

“Beth … Why in the hell are you here?”

“I’m making a point.”

“They’re about to process you. The woman up front says you’re about an hour away from getting a jumpsuit and joining the general jail population.”

Beth smiled as she looked down at her clothes. “Maybe you should have waited. A bright orange jumpsuit would have been much more striking.”

“I didn’t come here for a fashion show. I’m here to help you.”

“And I appreciate the effort, but I can help myself.”

“Not in here you can’t. What happened?”

Beth took a deep breath and looked away, as if deciding whether or not to tell her.

“Beth.”

“Okay, I was at a bar in Olancha last night. A place called Blitzed. There were two UCLA girls there who were on their way to Tahoe. Nice kids. One of them stepped out to make a phone call, and I saw a scary-looking guy slip out a minute or so later. So I went out there just in time to see the asshole trying to force himself on her. I told him to stop, but he didn’t.” She shrugged. “So I made him stop.”

“How exactly did you do that?”

“I put him down face-first into the parking lot,” Beth said casually, as if it were an everyday occurrence.

Kendra nodded. “You drew a weapon on him?”

“No.” Beth was clearly insulted by the suggestion. “I used his weight against him. I dislocated his shoulder and most likely cracked a rib or two.”

Kendra stared at her for a long moment. “Where in the hell did you learn to do that?”

“Bakersfield. I was there for a couple months, and I spent almost every day taking self-defense classes from this amazing older woman.”

“You studied martial arts?”

“I studied everything that works. After all those years of feeling helpless in that mental hospital, I decided that I’m never going to let myself feel that way ever again. I’m still learning. I have a bunch of her videos on my iPad, and I practice every day.”

Kendra could understand her need for independence. The staff of the hospital had orders to keep Beth weak and drugged, and they’d done it for the years she’d been kept there. Falsified reports and diagnoses by corrupt doctors and officials had assured that she remain almost in a zombie state. Now, free of those drugs, there was nothing in the least zombielike in her personality or vision of life. She’d taken control with a vengeance.

“I see.” Kendra’s lips turned up. “So you’ve become The Terminator.”

Beth grinned. “Nah, I liked the way Linda Hamilton put all the bad guys down in those movies. She used brains and not superhuman brawn.” Her smile faded. “The guy had it coming. That college kid was just there to have a good time, and he tried to make a victim of her.”

“I don’t doubt he had it coming. So what happened next?”

“The girls freaked out and hit the road. Bubba-Joe’s friends came out of the bar and—”

“Bubba-Joe is the guy you put down?” She frowned. “That’s not the name the police gave me.”

“I didn’t pay much attention to what the police called him. I was too busy arguing and trying to keep from being thrown into jail. He looked like a Bubba-Joe, so that’s how I think of him.”

“Gotcha.”

“His friends came out, and it must have occurred to him how bad it looked to have his ass handed to him by little ol’ me. So he made up this story about him enjoying a smoke outside and me attacking him from behind with a heavy metal beer sign. By the time the cops got there a minute or so later, his friends were claiming to have witnessed the whole thing, just the way he said it.”

“Nice. And the UCLA girl was nowhere to be found.”

“Exactly.”

“You could have made bail, Beth. For God’s sake, you’re a wealthy woman. Besides your family money, I know you got a fortune in your settlement from that Seahaven mental health institution. When the state board found out about the corruption there and what they’d done to you, they couldn’t recommend a high enough compensation in the courts.”

“I don’t want bail.” Her jaw clenched. “I want to stay and fight. I want everyone to know what he did. And I want everyone to know I don’t belong here.”

Kendra could understand. As tough as Beth appeared to have become physically, she was still carrying emotional scars from her years as a prisoner. “We’ll get you a good lawyer. The best. Put this behind you, and let’s get out of here.”