“The weather is supposed to be perfect, which should help!” I said as I left to rejoin my other friends to watch and cheer for our five running friends.
I’d entered all their bib numbers into the app on my phone which would display their progress through various positions. Another one went in, as well, for a bit of an inspiration of mine by the name of Marisol Jamil. Her strength and determination resonated with me. I considered her a heroine of sorts, and followed her on social media. She was also the woman I’d seen in the photograph hanging in Alex Reid’s lobby.
The weather was, indeed, quite beautiful, but I made darn sure to keep the sunscreen applied, as we all spent close to six hours outdoors.
My friends waited as close to Grant Park as we could until everyone we were cheering crossed the finish line. We all agreed to meet at a local microbrewery to celebrate the following evening.
DONAGH
Tuesday, October 15, 2019, 9:17am
“Hey, River,” I said when she answered my call.
“Hey, yourself, Donny! We haven’t caught up since I saw you at the tent. Everything go okay for you Sunday?”
“It wasn’t as bad as we’d prepped for, which is always a good thing,” I answered. “We treated about a hundred people at our station, and only two of them had to be transported. So, yeah. It wasn’t nearly as bad as last year’s was.”
“Good to hear,” she said. “Are you off today?”
“Yeah. As a matter of fact, I am, and that’s why I’m calling. I talked to my father last night at dinner. He wants to talk to you.”
“He’s agreed to meet me?”
“He’s not just agreed, he insists. I didn’t give him specific details you’ve given me, but when I told him you think a police officer tried to kill you, that got his attention. I haven’t told him anything else.”
“When?” she asked.
“He just called me a few minutes ago to tell me he’s cleared his schedule.”
“Like today?”
“Yeah.”
“Let me call you back. I have a few meetings with clients on my calendar. I need to see if I can reschedule them.”
“Sure thing,” I answered.
“Donny, thanks. Really. I appreciate your help.”
It was a few hours before she called me back.
She asked me where to go, and I offered to drive her there myself. I wouldn’t be in my father’s office while they talked, of course, but I wanted her to know I’d be outside the door as a sort of distant support. I really liked the woman. She was rather attractive, for sure, but there was just something about her personality and carriage that nudged me in that direction.
“You sure this okay with you?” she asked as soon as she climbed into my car.
“Of course it is. Don’t worry about a thing. My dad’s the life of any neighborhood party, but he’s all-business on the job. He’s fair and observant. Think about it like you’re only having a conversation. Like you are talking to me or any other friend.”
She sighed deeply. “I’m nervous.”
I took her left hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Fifteen minutes later, I escorted her to the CoD’s office in the Public Safety Headquarters building on Michigan Avenue. I settled into a chair after another mutual hand-squeeze when my father invited River into his office.
An hour and a half later, a woman knocked on the door that separated River and me, and my dad beckoned her to enter.
RIVER
2:03pm
“Miss Marquette, this is June Donaver, a principal investigator from Internal Affairs,” Chief McHugh said.
“Hello,” I nervously responded and shook the woman’s offered hand.
“I’m going to leave the two of you alone because I don’t want to bias the conversation. I need you to relate to her every single thing you’ve told me. I’ll be out there if either of you need me.”
He left the room.
Another hour transpired as I repeated the conversation almost word-for-word, with almost identical questions from her, and identical answers from myself.
“Miss Marquette,” she said, “Thank you. I promise the stagnation of this investigation will end if I can get answers to some very pointed and probably uncomfortable questions. May I continue?”
I nervously nodded.
“Let me start by asking how you and Officer Swanson met, and the full extent of your relationship.”
Another hour elapsed. I was exhausted and in tears by the end of it. When I left the office, Donny was still waiting.
“You look like you’ve been through the wringer,” he said when we were finally out of view from anyone.
“God. I didn’t think it’d be that rough. That wasn’t just a conversation. It felt more like an interrogation. And not just once, but twice!”
“I’m so sorry, River,” he said. “I couldn’t have known. Are you okay?”
“I will be. I just wasn’t— I don’t know. I feel like I’ve—”
“—Done the right thing?” he interrupted. “Don’t ever tell yourself otherwise.”
“Thanks, Donny. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
He took my hand and folded his fingers through mine as he drove me back to my office where I’d left my car. I brought his hand to my face and subtly smelled the scent of his skin. He gently brushed the back of his fingers over my cheek and chin.
Strings. Strings? I no longer gave an ounce of crap about strings.
ALEX REID
Monday, October 28, 2019
River and I met at the courthouse an hour before the appointed time so I could coach her. She’d been in courts before, so it was basically a rehash and review of various things other attorneys had likely advised on courtroom etiquette and whatnot. Keep your phone on mute. Don’t keep it on the table. Keep it put away. Never interrupt the judge. Don’t answer opposing counsel’s question without a two or three second delay to give me the opportunity to evaluate the question and have time to object if needed, and never, ever speak directly to the complainant, and only to her attorney when you’re on the stand.
“All rise!” the uniformed bailiff ordered the gallery. “The 447th Judicial District Court of Cook County is now in session, The Honorable Grace McWhirter presiding.”
The courtroom was packed with people, as was typical of every Monday. The court had summonsed probably a dozen cases for the same time slot of nine o’clock. Much like a doctor, the judge expected the litigants to wait on her so she wouldn’t have to wait on them. It was well-ordered chaos, and everyone who physically could rose to their feet. Of course, a few elderly people couldn’t, as well as one very young woman, one Candace Waters. I recognized her from the photograph River had pointed out to me.
The rather well-experienced jurist stepped to her chair on the elevated bench, rapped her gavel on its block, and said, “You may be seated. Let’s get things moving. Bailiff, please call the first case.”
We sat quietly, watching the proceedings of other cases move rather rapid-fire. Judge McWhirter ran a tight ship and kept things moving briskly.
After about ninety minutes had passed, the bailiff looked at the clipboard he was holding. “Parties to case 19-09300116, please rise.”
“That’s us,” I whispered to River.
She and I stood. Another man did as well, standing next to a woman who couldn’t. She was in a wheelchair.
“Please come forward,” he said, opening the low gate at the bar.
I motioned River toward the left-hand table, and the other gentlemen pushed the other woman’s wheelchair to the other table. The bailiff repositioned one of the chairs to make room for her. The three that could remained standing, and the bailiff continued to read.
“Case 19-09300116, Candace S. Waters vee River E. Marquette, with a complaint of willful negligence leading to grievous bodily harm. Complainant seeks redress and compensation of five hundred thousand dollars,” he concluded, then stepped back to his desk.
The judge looked over at me and my client for a few moments, then over to the pair at the other table.
“Counselor Waters, would you happen to be related to the woman you’re standing next to, or is this just one of those happy coincidences?”
He grinned slightly. “No, Your Honor, it’s no coincidence. She is my sister.”
“Peter, you’re not making the start of the day easy,” Judge McWhirter stated with a bit of frustration evident in her voice.
That she knew his first name was not at all surprising. We’d both stood before her in court a number of times. She’d learned a lot of names from experience.
That she addressed him by it was an additional hint to her frustration. It wasn’t particularly rare for a jurist to address a familiar attorney by first name, but it wasn’t particularly common, either. At no time, however, would an attorney ever address the judge in the same manner while he or she was on the bench.
PETER WATERS
“You are aware that I don’t particularly like the idea of attorneys representing their own family members, are you not?” the judge asked me.
Yay! Off to the races! I sarcastically thought to myself. Not a good start.
“Yes, ma’am, I am well aware, but I assure you I am able to represent her objectively.”
“Ma’am,” the judge spoke to my sist— my client. “Please state and spell your full name for the court.”
She did.
“You as well, please,” the judge spoke to the other woman who similarly complied.
“Counselor, give me the highlights,” she directed me.
I spent several minutes describing the chain of events which led to the surgical removal of my sister’s lower limb. I kept an eye on the clock because I knew to allow myself no more than five minutes to lay things out.
“Anything else?” Judge McWhirter asked me.
“Just one thing more thing, Your Honor. I have filed a motion of summary judgment in this matter.”
“Mr. Reid?” she said, addressing the other attorney.
I clenched, preparing to have my ass handed to me.
“I am aware. I wouldn’t be standing before Your Honor if I weren’t prepared to argue it. Suffice it to say that there are, most certainly, facts in dispute. I request as quick a hearing as the court will oblige.”
She chuckled at him. “Aren’t you on your A game, Mr. Reid,” she said. “Quick quick, or normal quick?”
“As soon as you might permit, Your Honor. My client is more than anxious to put this all behind her.”
“Very well. Mitzie, short date, please,” the judge spoke to her clerk who quickly began clicking her computer’s mouse.
“Friday, one o’clock?” she said about thirty seconds later.
“Permit me, Your Honor?” he said, withdrawing his phone from his briefcase and holding it up.
She nodded.
He tapped his phone’s screen.
“That’s good with us,” he said.
“So ordered,” Judge McWhirter said before rapping her gavel.
My ass had been sufficiently handed to me, as I expected. Plus, I couldn’t object to the quick date because that would make it appear as if I weren’t at all prepared by now. The two at the opposing table had nothing to gather, and I struggled to replace my own papers into my briefcase. I then assisted my sister out of the courtroom.
RIVER
“How’d do you think that went?” Alex asked me.
“A bit like a whirlwind. What did all of that mean?”
“Remember how I told you everything these days is filed electronically?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“I read his motion already. It was pro forma. Heck. There are better examples in first-year law school books. I knew he’d try, but there’s just nothing there. I’m actually a bit surprised at him for not trying harder. I’m suspecting now that he was hoping I’d ask for a longer interval, and I think I surprised him by agreeing to a hearing only a few days away from now.”
“To be honest, that surprised me, as well.”
“Don’t worry about it. Quashing that motion will be easy. I could do it in my sleep.”
“If you say so.”
“Anywho, Remember that bet I made with you at dinner with Maddie and me a few weeks ago?”
“Remind me,” I requested, because I couldn’t recall it.
“That if he did file that motion, I’d treat you to dinner,” he said with a bit of a grin on his face.
“Oh. Yes, I remember that.”
“Give me a call at my office when you want to cash in that chip. But right now, I need to meet another client upstairs for an arbitration,” he said, walking backwards.
“Good luck,” I said.
He turned, looked at his watch, and began hustling towards the stairwell.
“That guy’s a bit of an odd duck,” I said to myself with a chuckle as I headed for the exit.
I pulled up my calendar app on my cell. Donny had created a shared calendar where he kept his shift schedule so I knew when he was or wasn’t working.
DONAGH
11:22am
I read the text from River, and I smiled. Hey! You wouldn’t happen to be free for lunch, would you? My hearing just ended and I’m in a bit of a good mood.
I am. I’d love to meet you. Good news?
Yeah. Some. We can talk about it at a table. What do you have a taste for? I’m up for anything other than Thai.
Shucks. That’s what I was going to suggest.
🤣 JK
Do you like Indian food?
Ooh. A spicy chicken curry with naan sounds awesome! 😋
Tandoor Oven @ noon? It’s near the corner of Pershing and Giles.
Perfect! See you soon!
My smile widened. I had just enough time to take another shower, just in case. I’d even started making sure I took my work clothes off in the laundry room so the odors wouldn’t transfer to the clean clothes in the closet.
Thirty minutes later, I was standing in the waiting area, peering through the windows until I saw River’s long, lithely muscular legs maneuver her up the sidewalk to the door. I stepped out on the sidewalk to greet her, and held the door open for her.
“Hey,” I smiled.
“Hey, yourself,” she smiled back. “Enjoying your day off?”
“I am now,” I said.
She laughed. “Come on. You have a life outside of the firehouse, don’t you?”
“I do,” I said a little quietly. “Just gets better on days like this. Come on. They’ve already got a table ready for us.”
She followed me, and I pulled her chair out for her.
“Thank you, kind sir,” she said, with humorous mock pomp, taking the seat.
I very much had a difficult time not staring. I mean, jeez. She had to have been the most beautifully and immaculately dressed woman within a mile radius. I’d never before seen her dressed as she was that day. Every other time we’d met up, she was in rather casual clothing. Something like jeans and a sweatshirt, or jogging pants or sweats, whatever. She looked fantastic in all that, too, but what sat before me was a stunningly beautiful professionally-attired woman. She was dressed in a dark gray knee-length skirt, a matching blazer, and a snug knitted black turtleneck. Man, if it all didn’t highlight her shape perfectly.
I was simply entranced.
“Donny?” she said, waving her hand in front of my eyes.
“Oh,” I laughed nervously. “I apologize for staring. You are quite a nice sight, River.”
She smiled. “I haven’t worn this outfit in maybe a year. In fact, I think I was in court then, too. Just a bit uppity for the everyday, you know?”
“I don’t know whether your suit flatters you, or you it.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” she said, reaching across the table to my hand.
Her fingers felt a tad cool to the touch, so I covered them with my other. She gently squeezed.
Oh, hell. I was so smitten. I was glad to be wearing long sleeves, or she’d have seen the goosebumps flash up my arm at the sensation of her hand in mine.
In short order, our waiter attended our table and we selected our lunches. River spent the intervening time filling me in on the hearing. She even chuckled lightly at the end.
“You know, I think I just spent more time describing the whole thing than it actually took to happen.”
“That fast, huh?”
“Yeah. Alex, my attorney, was really quite fast on his feet. The other guy seemed a bit off his game, according to Alex. He said his filings were sort of weak, and he was genuinely taken aback because the Waters guy is supposed to be a good attorney, too. They’ve argued cases against each other, so I guess he would know.”
“That has to give you some confidence, doesn’t it?”
“For sure. We’re back in court on Friday and I’m curious to see what’s going to happen next. He said him and his paralegal are already laying out their whole argument.”
We continued to discuss it, then this and that as we dined on our meals. We tried samples of each other’s dishes. Her chicken murgh kari packed just the right amount of heat and was probably very satisfying against the nip of the autumn weather.
After we split the check, I followed her to the exit, watching her subtly curvy hips sashay as she walked. No limp in sight.
“You look like you’ve completely recovered,” I said from behind her, realizing I’d probably just betrayed my eyes’ behavior.
If I had, she didn’t let on. Instead, she made a grasping motion with the fingers of her left hand, signaling that she wanted me to take it and walk alongside her. I did.
“Everything sounds like it’s heading in the right direction for you,” I said.
“Whoa!” she barked, holding up other palm. “Do not jinx it!”
I ran my pinched thumb and forefinger over my lips. “Won’t happen again,” I murmured through one corner of my mouth.
She laughed at my actions.
“Hey. I know you’re working tomorrow which also means you’re on duty Friday.”
“That’s right,” I said.
“Is there any chance you can swap with someone in the A or B shift so you can be in court with me? It’s not a big deal if you can’t.”
“It would help?” I asked.
“Yes. Knowing you’re in the room will bolster my confidence.”
“Then I will do my absolute best to see if I can make that happen,” I smiled.
I walked with her the rest of the way to the office building which contained a small two-room suite from where she ran her small business.
“Catch up with you later?” I asked.
“Count on it,” she said with a wink as she entered the building.
RIVER
9:26pm
The uptick in my energy after court allowed me to work quite late. I was glad I had the forethought long before to keep a few spare changes of clothes in one of the file drawers, because as soon as I got there earlier in the afternoon after lunch with Donny, I shed and hung my suit and exchanged my underwear for a comfy pair of briefs instead of the booty-biting thong, and a jog bra instead of the underwire one that’d been digging into my armpit for seven hours. Running pants and a sweatshirt completed my casual assemblage for the following seven hours I’d worked in the office, only pausing for an occasional peach Fresca or a tinkle. I hadn’t eaten dinner yet, but that didn’t stop me from unlocking another file drawer and pulling out a bottle of Knob Creek 12 Year Bourbon I’d kept there, as yet unopened, since a particularly-appreciative client had given it to me a year earlier.
I had just placed the bottle in the bag with my clothes when a reflection distracted me. I saw it on the glass covering a Patrick Nagel print on the wall. The source was the window behind my desk. Someone was shining light through it.
Knowing better than to lift a slat to look through the blinds, I grabbed my DSLR, darted out of my suite, down to the opposite exit at the side of the building, and edged myself around the corner of the building’s exterior. I zoomed in on the car which was shining a light attached to the vehicle’s A pillar.
“Oh, god no,” I whispered to myself. I even heard my own voice tremble.
I snapped several photographs, then switched the camera to video capture mode. The image displayed on the backlit LCD was slightly grainy in the low light. I quickly ensured focus, then deactivated the display because I didn’t the illuminated panel to betray my concealment. With my free hand, I dialed 911 on my cell.
“911, what is your emergency?” the operator asked.
“Um, There’s a prowler or someone trying to shine a light through my office window. Can you send someone? My office is at Palisade Park, 917 Pershing, Suite 114.”
“The system shows a unit already at that address,” the operator said.
“Why? Why is he lighting things up?”
“It’s perfectly normal, ma’am. Patrolmen do things like that all the time. Their lights scatter nefarious people, you know?”
“Oh. I understand. Thanks,” I said, “Just so I can be sure, would you please ask them to come knock on the main doors? It just doesn’t feel right.”
“Give me a few seconds. I’ll send a message to that unit’s console.”
“Thank you,” I said.
Not ten seconds later, the patrol car accelerated with skids out of the parking lot.
“Ma’am, stand by. That unit just departed. It wasn’t dispatched, so I’m not sure why. I’ll dispatch another.”
“No, don’t worry about it. I guess that police officer didn’t see anything of interest. It’s okay. Thank you for listening.”
The call disconnected, I went back inside the building and immediately called someone else. The voice that answered sounded fatigued.
“River, are you okay?” his first words, once again, conveying concern for me.
“Something just happened that I can’t ignore.”
CHAPTER 6
DONAGH
10:17pm
I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes as quickly as I could.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m pretty sure I’m being stalked by one of Chicago’s finest.”
“Was it your ex?”
“Probably, but I’m not sure. I took pictures and some video.”
“Where are— like right now, where exactly are you?”
“Inside my office,” she answered.
“Don’t move. I’ll be there in twenty minutes, okay? Can you recognize my car in the dark?”
“The red Prius?”
“Yes, and my license plate ends in 713, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Check it, River, make sure you see it. Sit tight. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Okay,” she uncharacteristically whimpered. “Thank you for being such a good friend. I’m sorry for waking you up!”
I grabbed my fob, then realized I wasn’t dressed for public view. I tossed on the quickest clothing I could find and ran to my car.
I was at her building quicker than I thought I could be. I aimed my car’s front toward the window I’d looked out of a few weeks before. I flashed my high-beams, then extinguished them. A slat lifted for a few seconds, and the office’s lights went out.
I went for the main doors. River ran toward them, pressed the exit button to release the magnetic lock, grasped my hand, and ran with it entrapped in hers to my car.
“You okay?” I panted.
“Drive, Donny. Please?” she cried. “Just drive.”
I quickly departed the lot. “Riv, where do you want me to take you? Your apartment?”
She didn’t answer. She was quite visibly shaken. A camera she had fell from her lap into the floorboard of my car when I slowed for a red light, and she didn’t even react. I interpreted her silence as a “no.”
“River, come on. Talk to me. Are you alright?”
“Just keep driving,” she said.
I could tell she was checking the mirrors, and I began to do so myself. I made a few random turns, watching to see if anyone was following. I turned onto the last street, stopped my car, and watched every angle for any approaching headlights. I saw none, so I continued forward into the complex’s parking lot. I shut off the power to my Prius.
I observed my surroundings for several moments, noting that she was doing the same.
“Where are we?” she whispered.
“My apartment.”
She bolted from my car. I fetched her DSLR from the floor and shut my door. I held my key fob against the reader at the glass door. Hearing it beep, I opened the door and River rushed herself into a space unknown to her.
She followed me down the short hallway to the entrance of my apartment. Once I’d unlocked and opened its door, she darted through it where she collided with an end table in the small living room.
“Whoa, girl, slow down!”
“Donny! Please don’t yell at me!”
“Sorry. You’re right. I barked. I— forget about it.”
She stared at me, and I saw the fright in her eyes.
“Jeez, River. Are you okay?” I asked, stroking her upper arm.
She stared at me for several moments. She took the camera from my other hand, powered it up, pushed a few buttons, and turned its back to face me.
I saw the familiar colors of a CPD patrol cruiser moving its searchlight in small motions. It sounded like River was talking to someone.
I heard the screech of the tires as the unit sped out of the parking lot.
“Do you have a computer that can read an SD card?” she asked.
“Yeah. Right here,” I said, pulling my laptop off the couch and setting on the countertop. I powered it up and logged in.
She handed me the black plastic card she’d extracted from the camera, and I put it into the slot on the side of the laptop. A file explorer window opened automatically. I stepped to the side and let River do what she wanted.
She opened the first photo in the folder, and tabbed through several others until she found one of interest. She used the zoom tool, adjusted the brightness and contrast in the image, bringing a face into clearer detail.
“I knew it. It was Dennis.”
“Who?”
“Dennis Swanson. My ex. I’d better get home before he tries something else.”
I’d only seen the man once before, months earlier, and I didn’t commit the face to my memory.
“You’re staying here, River.”
“I can’t, Donny, I need to go home,” she argued, rubbing her forehead.
“Don’t you think that’d be the next place he’d look? I’m not going to let you argue with me,” I said, working quickly to remove evidence of my bachelor lifestyle from around the apartment, particularly making sure I hadn’t left any dirty clothes on the bathroom floor. “I’m going to change the sheets on the bed. Wait here.”
It took me scant minutes to do that task.
“There’s not a whole lot in the pantry or fridge, but you’re welcome to whatever you want,” I said once I’d returned to the living area.
She was sitting on the couch with her head in her hand. I softly rubbed her back between her shoulders. She sort of leaned into it.
“Your day flipped over really fast, huh?” I said.
She only nodded.
“First thing tomorrow, you need to get in contact with my dad or lieutenant Donaver. They definitely need to know what’s happened.”
She simply nodded again.
“Are you tired?”
She sat more erect and shook her head. “No. Far from it now. I had a bottle of Knob Creek stashed away in my office. It’s been there for a year or so. I was gonna take it home and celebrate a fantastic day with a shot or two then hit my rack, but I’m like ears open eyeballs click now.”
“That sometimes happens to me if we have an overnight response. It takes me an hour or so to wind down once we get back to the station before I can get back to sleep.”
She groaned. “Oh, crap, Donny. I am so sorry. I forgot you had to work tomorrow morning and here I went and woke you up.”
I suddenly felt like a jerk that, in only trying to relate to her, I made her feel guilty.
“River, look at me,” I urged. She did. “Don’t say that, okay? I’m no Rambo or anything, but I’m glad you called me. I’m happy to give you a safe space.”
She smiled.
“Jeez. Look at us. Two Marines hunkered in a hidey-hole.”
She’d gone into Marine-mode. Ears open, Eyeballs click, Hidey-hole. I wanted to draw her back to the now.
“No, just you,” I said. “I live here.”
That made her laugh and seemed to ease her stress.
“River, did you ever follow through on your threat to your ex to expose his traffic ticket racket?”
“You know what? No! I didn’t!”
“Does he know that?”
“I don’t know how he would, unless he wanted to risk bringing light to it himself by nosing around or asking.”
“Do you think he’s vindictive enough to keep you from doing it?”
“Come on. I can’t imagine anyone would kill someone to basically avoid an administrative slap on the wrist. Let alone Dennis. He’s an arrogant little puffed-up turd, but not that arrogant,” she said, “At least I don’t think so.”
“It wouldn’t necessarily be just a reprimand. He could be brought up on criminal charges for filing a false report. Or multiple false reports. Our battalion chief has said that if he were to falsify an incident report, which they have to fill out after every call, he’d could go to jail, and that’s why he’s always so anal about filling them out correctly and asking us to read them to see if we see any mistakes before he submits them.”
“Oh,” she sighed.
I rubbed her back just a little longer. Again, she leaned into it. If we’d progressed to that point, I would have kissed her lips to try to ease her stress or comfort her. But we hadn’t, so I didn’t.
“You gonna be okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. Thank you so much, Donny. I really appreciate you, you know?”
“Why don’t you see if you can get some sleep,” I suggested. “There’s another door to the bathroom from the bedroom. I usually get up around six thirty or so, but I’ll keep it down.”
I rose when she did. She leaned toward me and kissed my cheek. I walked her to my bedroom, she closed the door. I heard the flick of the room’s light switch being turned off, and the sound of her climbing into my bed.
I turned off the rest of the lights in my apartment and settled onto the couch.
RIVER
Tuesday, October 29, 2019, 7:10am
Donny’s position looked uncomfortable to me as he slept on the short sofa, but he was still out cold, and I didn’t want to wake him up again. I used my iPhone’s flashlight to explore the kitchen. There was a coffee maker and an open box of K-Cups on the counter, and a few dirty dishes in the sink. I found a few cups in the cabinet above the Keurig, and started the machine brewing a store brand which I hoped would be passable. The brewer hissed and steamed at the end of its job.
I quietly sat at the small kitchenette table to check emails and stuff on my phone.
“Hey. Were you able to get any sleep?” I heard Donny whisper.
“Yes, I was,” I smiled.
What I didn’t say was that the scent of his bed and room helped relax my nerves.
He started his own cup of coffee after tossing the hot spent pod into the trash. Then he tapped on his own phone while it brewed. He pulled out the opposite chair at the table and was preparing to sit when his phone rang.
“That was quick,” he said before answering it. “Hey, Dad.”
I could hear muted speech from the phone pressed to his ear.
“Yeah. It happened last night around eleven o’clock or thereabouts.”
“Dad, she’s sitting right here. Let me put you on speaker— Come on, Dad. Now’s not the best time for this. Give it a rest, would you?” he said with minor irritation in his voice.
I didn’t have to hear to know I was likely the subject of an awkward question.
“Okay. Hold on,” he said, placing his phone on the tabletop and tapping the screen. “Go ahead. You’re on speaker.”
“Hello? Miss Marquette?” he said.
“Yes, sir?”
“Give me a sec. I want to try to conference on June Donaver. She’s the IA investigator you spoke with in my office a few weeks ago, okay?”
“I understand,” I responded.
The line was silent for about two minutes.
“Miss Marquette,” the woman said, “This is June Donaver. We spoke two weeks ago. I’m to understand you had a bit of excitement last night. Would you mind telling me what happened?”
“I remember, ma’am,” I said, then spent four or five minutes describing the event.
“How can you be certain this involved Officer Swanson?” she asked.
“Because I have photos and some video.”
“Hold on. You recorded it all?”
“I’m a private investigator, so I know a little bit about countersurve—” I felt myself getting a little irritated, so I took a deep breath. “Yes. I did. I went out the side exit of the building and was able to get some shots of the car. I was able to tweak the contrast and stuff until I could see his face. I’m certain it was him.”
“Do any of the photographs happen to show the unit’s ID number?”
“Give me a few minutes to see,” I said, shooting a look at Donny.
He immediately rose from the table and fetched his laptop from the other room. The SD card was still installed. Donny unlocked it and twisted rotated the laptop to face me.
“Is it the four digit number on the front fender?” I asked.
“It is.”
“It’s 9022.”
We all could hear the tapping of keys.
“Yeah, okay then,” she said.
“What are you seeing, June?” the chief asked.
“That unit was indeed at that location at that time. I can confirm that, at least according to dispatchers’ logs, it wasn’t directed there, and it left ten minutes later, a few seconds after a message was sent electronically requesting a security check. That unit indicated an intercept of a speeder doing fifty in a forty two minutes later. The dispatchers’ logs indicate the caller declined a followup visit.”
“I did. I declined.”
“Why did you decline, ma’am?” the chief asked.
“Because the individual shining the light into my window left. What would a followup add?”
“I understand your point,” the man said. “I’m going to send a unit from a zone other than Officer Swanson’s to pick you up and bring you here to my office. Can you spare a few hours?”
“Yes, I can,” I answered.
“You’re at Donny’s apartment?” he asked.
I felt my eyes fly wide, and they caught Donny’s. His face showed resignation.
“Yeah, Dad,” Donny said.
“I’ll text you the unit number. Relay it to Miss Marquette. I’ll have it in five minutes. Miss Marquette, please bring the photos and videos and everything you have with you.”
“I understand,” I replied.
The call disconnected.
“Crap, River. I wish I could go with you,” Donny said. “Just to sit outside the door so you’d know I was there to support you.”
“I know you do. But I’m meeting your father. I trust that you trust him to do the right thing.”
He nodded, then went to his pantry and took out an opened box of crunchy granola bars, then to his fridge where he withdrew a half gallon of milk.
“Breakfast,” he chuckled.
I smiled, stepping closer to him.
“Donny,” I whispered, giving in to an overpowering desire I’d fought for weeks.
I placed my hands above his hips and stepped closer. I closed my eyes and tilted my head slightly, hoping he’d understand my tacit request.
CHAPTER 7
DECLAN McHUGH
7:57am
I quickly redialed the last number, and June Donaver answered.
“What are you thinking?” I asked her.
“Still not convinced yet. I’ve been looking at his records, and there’s a few things which don’t sit quite right with me. If that lady can back up her statements, I think…”
“You think what?”
“Never mind. I don’t want to get ahead of ourselves. I’m on my way to your office now.”
I called the detectives assigned to the investigation of River’s shooting at Dunbar Park and asked them to come to my office, then called the District Attorney’s office and asked them to send someone over, as well.
Once everyone had assembled, we discussed the matter at hand for over two hours. The four of us listened to Miss Marquette’s umpteenth recounting of events, then reviewed the video and examined the photographs.
I took an urgent phone call from another detective while the others continued.
When June Donaver had heard everything she needed and had her questions answered, she retrieved an empty evidence bag from a storeroom and placed Miss Marquette’s SD card inside, then sealed, signed, and logged it. She had Miss Marquette sign the affidavit she prepared during the discussion.
“Miss Marquette, do you have a place you can go to other than your residence? I’m concerned for your safety,” I asked as we concluded.
“At this time of day, the building my office is in is pretty active. Lots of people around.”
“I’ll ask one of my plain-clothes to drop you off there.”
We all thanked her for her assistance and I asked her to wait in the anteroom until one of my men arrived.
“This is hardly a strong case,” the ADA said. “The most we might be able to charge him with at this point is—”
“Hold that thought. That call I took in the middle of this discussion was from another one of my detectives. There’s more. Swanson was in an officer-involved shooting a while back. He took down a guy with a wants and warrants list as long as your arm.”
“I remember that,” June said. “Other than the fact his body-cam wasn’t armed, it was determined it was a clean shoot.”
“We were able to get pretty good ballistics from the slug the on-scene investigators were able to pull out of a wall, and of course, it matched the gun found at the scene. However, in Miss Marquette’s case, the bullet hit dense bone and was so distorted that our ballistics folks couldn’t match it to anything. We sent it to the FBI in Quantico. Their lab popped a hit in NIBIN. To the Swanson case.”
“Holy crap. Are you sure?”
“The detective called me just as soon as he read the report. The two shootings are definitely linked.”
“But how does that implicate Swanson? Doesn’t that mean that he took down the man who shot Miss Marquette?”
“There were a few oddities in the Swanson incident. When NIBIN flagged the match, our ballistics did another test and found traces of graphite in the bullet casings retrieved from the apartment.”
The ADA shrugged.
“Too many people watch too many crime shows. Crime scene investigators don’t use pencils to pick up shell casings like TV cops do.”
I watched as his brain worked it through.
“Are you suggesting Swanson staged it?”
“It’s sure as hell looking like a distinct possibility. There were what, at the time, seemed like minor irregularities. Swanson and Justin Rogers, his partner, were, for a fact, canvasing that building for witnesses in the shootings of the two joggers. But they, against procedural standards, split up at Swanson’s suggestion. And, as I already mentioned, his body camera wasn’t activated until after the incident commander arrived. That seemed to have been corroborated by Rogers’s cam footage June’s investigator reviewed.”
June nodded her agreement.
The ADA considered all he’d heard.
“Minor irregularities and coincidences are piling up. Red flags are waving. May I?” he asked, pointing to my desk.
I nodded, so he sat in my chair and used my PC.
“Warrant bench clerk, please,” he spoke into his cellphone.
He drummed her fingers on my desk while he waited. A few moments later, he requested an expedited review and signature for the warrant he’d submitted. Twenty minutes later, the laser printer came to life and nine pages were ejected. He stapled the pages in groups of three, handing one of the groups to Ms. Donaver.
“Arrest Dennis Swanson. The charge is homicide in the second degree.”
I’d barely opened my mouth to argue before he stopped me.
“It’s an easier indictment to make stick, and a high enough charge that I can ask for denial of bail. We can re-indict for first degree if a stronger case can be made.”
RIVER
7:16pm
I stank. I hadn’t had a shower in almost 36 hours. At least my breath was fresh because Donny had given me a toothbrush and a little tube of toothpaste, the sorts dental hygienists give patients after cleanings. Though my office suite had a decent-enough unisex restroom, it didn’t have a shower. I changed into the last set of spare clothes I’d stashed in the office.
“Marquette Investigations,” I said, answering my cell when it displayed an unknown but local number on its display when it rang.
“Miss Marquette? This is June Donaver.”
“Oh. Ms. Donaver. You’re working late. What can I do for you?”
“Hardly late,” she chuckled. “I wanted to let you know that we’ve taken Dennis Swanson into custody on a felony warrant.”
I was stunned.
“Taken into cust— uh… he’s been arrested? On what charges?”
“I can’t discuss the specifics until the DA gets an indictment. I just wanted to let you know so you won’t worry about him harassing you, at least for the time being.”
“Thank you so much for letting me know.”
“I’ll try to contact you if or when anything changes, but at least you can relax for now.”
“Absolutely. Thanks again.”
She disconnected the call.
I slouched further into my desk chair and sighed aloud with the release of tension. I also wanted to reach out to Donny to release other tension, too, but I knew he was on duty and would be until the next morning.
The clothes I’d changed out of went into the bag with the clothes I’d worn the previous day. It also still held the bottle of Knob Creek. I wanted a hot bath and a bourbon on ice. I took my stuff, locked my office, headed to the parking lot, and was home thirty minutes later.
AirPods softly playing some instrumental jazz? Check. Perfectly warm bath? Drawn and waiting. Two shots of Knob Creek 12 on the rocks? Poured and cold. I stepped into the tub and reclined, slowly submerging myself to my shoulders in the soothing water. I took a sip and relished the wonderfully smooth twelve-year-old whiskey.
As I listened to the music, the ethanol worked its way into my blood. My right hand was on the ice-cold glass and my left hand was between my legs. A soft Herbie Hancock ballad played in my ears, the recollection of the scents of a particular individual as well has his bed played in my memory, while visual and tactile fantasies of being held and intimately touched by him played in my mind. A delicious and powerful climax soon followed.
A few minutes later, my cell rang, interrupting not only the music but an approach to another physical release. The phone was on the vanity, so I couldn’t see the display. I let it go to voicemail. Three seconds later, it rang again.
I tapped the stem of the AirPod to answer the call.
“Marquette Investigations,” I frustratedly spoke.
“That’s not how you usually answer when I call,” the voice said with a chuckle. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Oh! Hey, Donny! I couldn’t see my screen so I didn’t know who was calling. I was just thinking about you. I wish we could’ve spent just a little more time together this morning before I was hustled away,” I said, wondering if he could possibly hear the smile on my face.
“Yeah. Um… about that,” he slowly said. “This is like the first chance I’ve had to call you because it’s been a wickedly busy day.”
The bath was warm, but the tone of his voice seemed to lower my body temperature.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Damn it. How do I say this?”
That didn’t help.
“Donny, what is it?”
“River, first— uh. Ugh! I don’t know where to start. The kiss we shared this morning was very, very welcome. Okay? You’re an incredibly beautiful woman. You really are. And your kiss was very, very nice. I mean, it… um…”
I found myself scrunching my eyes closed. My right hand was clutching my glass as tightly as my left was clutching the edge of the tub. I put it on the ledge fearing I might break it.
“Just say it, Donny—”
“River, I don’t want to hurt you, please believe me. But… I just didn’t… feel it. You know? I mean I felt it, of course, but—”
“No fireworks?”
“No,” he said quietly. “I swear to god I wanted— it just… it wasn’t there. And it’s been bugging me all day. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you, River, but—”
“Don’t worry about it. Look. Real life isn’t always like fairy-tales or movies. I have to admit the kiss was pretty awesome for me, but— Never mind. You’re like the greatest guy I’ve ever met. I think any other guy would have taken advantage of the fact that I was the one to initiate and— It’s okay.”
“And you’re like the nicest woman I’ve ever met because… well, you just are. I thought about smashing faces with you at the get-together you invited me to a few weeks ago, and I thought about it again last night but I decided to wait until your life became less complicated. I didn’t want to add any confusion or be a distraction, you know?”
I laughed. Smashing faces? Then a thought rammed into my slightly tipsy mind.
“Dennis Swanson was arrested today.”
“Whoa! What?”
“Yeah. I was planning on camping out in my office overnight, but I came home as soon as I got the news. That’s why I’m chilling out by steaming in a hot bath. I was probably a bit ripe when I kissed you this morning. Sorry. Maybe that had something to—”
“You said you enjoyed our kiss this morning?”
“I most certainly did.”
“And, like… right now, you’re like totally and completely naked?”
“Well, yeah! I’m in the bathtub!” I laughed.
“Oomph. The thoughts I’m having right now. I’m going to hang up as soon as I tell you that I’m off at eight in the morning. It’ll take me some time to scrub the smoke off of me but fair warning that I might still smell of it when I come to your office at, what… say nine o’clock, because I want to try again.”
I laughed so hard when I heard the disconnect tone that I knocked my glass into the tub.
DONAGH
Wednesday, October 30, 2019, 8:19am
I showered at the station house when my shift ended, then went home and showered again before putting on fresh clothes. When I was making the bed, I brought one of the pillows to my face and inhaled its scent. I could smell River’s hair, and felt myself smiling.
Fifteen minutes later, I entered the lobby of her building a few minutes before nine o’clock, and walked down the corridor which led to her office suite. I saw her through the glass door at its entrance, and also through the opened door between an empty reception area through to her office. I tapped on the glass. She looked upward from her computer to see me standing there, smiled broadly, and gestured me in. She rose from her desk as I opened the door, and walked to meet me.
“Good morning,” she said with a smile.
Heart racing, I said nothing.
I grasped her slender waist, pulled her close, and kissed her softly.
“Oh—” she muttered before I kissed her again with a little more intensity.
I felt kind of lightheaded. It felt amazing.
“River,” I whispered before opening my eyes. “Thank you. That was… yeah. That was it.”
“Wow,” she said with a very pleasant expression. “Fireworks.”
“Not for me. That was something even better,” I smiled.
She brushed the nape of my neck with her fingernails and goosebumps soared down my back. She encouraged another kiss from me by closing her eyes, parting her lips. I’m almost certain we didn’t speak another word for minutes.
“Just… mercy,” she said again when we finally took a break. “That was different.”
“Yeah,” I said, drying my face with the back of my hand.
“Too wet?” she laughed.
“Hell no. God, River. I’m sorry for what I said last night. I shouldn’t have said stuff like that. I should have just kept my mouth shut. Now that I— I think maybe yesterday morning I just wasn’t in the right state of mind to feel it. Will you forgive me?”
“Donagh,” she said perfectly, “Of course I do, though there’s no need to ask for forgiveness. Think about it. If you hadn’t said what you did, the conversation would have been different, right? You wouldn’t have asked, and I wouldn’t have answered that I was stark naked in a soothing bubble bath without a stitch of clothing on my completely bare body, enjoying a rare bourbon and thoughts of a certain handsome man.”
“Oh, god,” I whimpered, actually hearing the tremble in my voice. “Can I shut this door?”
She nodded, so I did, then I enveloped her in my arms. She wrapped her own around me, then tongues united.
RIVER
Friday, November 1, 2019, 1:14pm
“All rise! The 447th Judicial District Court of Cook County is again in session, The Honorable Grace McWhirter presiding.”
“Please be seated,” the judge said. “Bailiff, next case?”
“That would be 19-09300116. Parties to case ending in 0116, please rise. Again,” he chuckled.
His levity lightened the mood of the room— well, at least my mood. Even the judge chuckled.
“Mister Waters, where is your client?”
“She’s in physical therapy, your honor. I have a signed affidavit from her that she is allowing me to proceed with this hearing in her absence.”
“Very well. Are you ready to proceed, Mister Reid?”
“More than,” my attorney answered.
“Okay. Let’s get moving. Mister Waters, you’re up.”
He spent two minutes outlining his case for the summary judgment, speaking in foreign legal argot I could barely keep up with. My attorney listened stoically, writing scribbles on a legal pad when he wasn’t doodling in its margins. I hoped he was paying attention.
I looked over my shoulder at Donny. He’d met me at the courthouse, and, catching my eyes, subtly smiled and nodded at me.
“Mister Reid?” the judge spoke when Mister Waters had taken his seat.
“Your Honor, my esteemed colleague quite sufficiently outlined his interpretation of Illinois so-called Good Samaritan statutes, and I have no argument against his interpretations.
“I would, however, like to call Your Honor’s attention to act five of section forty-nine, which reads, in summary: ‘No person who gives emergency instructions through a system established under the Emergency Telephone System Act—’ 911 falls into that category by the way— ‘to persons rendering services in an emergency at another location, nor any person following the instructions in rendering the services, shall be liable for any civil damages as a result of issuing or following the instructions, unless issuing or following the instructions constitutes willful or wanton misconduct.’
“Your Honor, that section immunizes from civil liability both a 911 operator for giving instructions and a civilian which is acting on said instructions.
“I have requested the audio from the call my client made to 911. At this time, I do not yet have it but shall for trial. But I am prepared to call Miss Marquette to testify that she was, in fact, provided instructions.
The judge, peering over her reading glasses, said “This is just a hearing about a motion. There’s no need to call her as a witness when I can just ask.
“Miss Marquette, did the 911 operator, in fact, give you instructions?”
“Indirectly, Your Honor,” I answered. “The operator asked me exactly what I was doing, and I told him. I can’t remember his exact words, but it was something to the effect of, ‘Good. Keep doing what you’re doing until EMS gets there and takes over.'”
“Are you confident the transcripts of the call will, in fact, bear your testimony out?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And, when you did what you did, where you trying to harm Miss Waters or cause her to lose her leg?”
“No, Your Honor,” I answered, “I was trying to keep her from bleeding to death.”
“Mister Waters, any objection?”
His shoulders slumped. “I withdraw the motion Your Honor. But I reserve the right to reintroduce it if the transcript is in conflict.”
“Very well. Now. Wasn’t that easy?” she said. “The motion is dismissed without action. We will be proceeding to trial.”
“Thank you, You’re Honor,” my attorney acknowledged, “and, again, my client requests short date.”
“Gentlemen, any other business?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Alex said, withdrawing a small group of papers from his briefcase. “I have three individuals I would like to call as witnesses. I’ve prepared summonses for your review.”
The bailiff took the papers to the judge who rifled through them. “Can you tell me how they’re related so I don’t need to spend time in session reading these?”
“Of course, Your Honor. The top one is the paramedic that responded to the scene that evening. Next is the vascular surgeon that treated Miss Waters.”
“This last one?” the judge asked, holding one up.
“That is an individual with some practical and personal experience in the matter at hand.”
“Very well, your summonses are approved. You’re free to have them served. Mitzie, have you found us a date?” she asked her clerk.
“Can you both manage Wednesday the twenty-seventh?” the clerk asked.
“That’s the day before Thanksgiving,” the judge reminded, “and the slot just came open because both parties in that trial—”
“Forgive me, Your Honor, but may I be permitted to have a word in private with opposing counsel?”
Stunned by the interruption, the judge took off her reading glasses and glared at him. “You’d better make this worth my while, Mister Waters.
“This case is in recess until two o’clock,” she said, banging her gavel. “Bailiff, what’s next?”
Once again, we collected our things and left. Donny took my hand in his when he joined me in the gallery. The other attorney held open the first set of doors, and gestured us into an unoccupied small conference room available off the vestibule of the courtroom. Donny decided to wait in the hall and passed through the second set of doors.
“Peter, this isn’t at all like you. You’re better than this!”
He held up his hands in deference. He turned to face me. “Miss Marquette, I wish to express to you my sincere regret and apologies for putting you through this. But I want you to understand that I did this to save my sister’s life, just like you did what you did for the same reason.”
“What? I don’t understand.”
“She was wasn’t listening to her doctors. She should have had her leg amputated weeks before she actually consented, and she only did that when I threatened her with a power of attorney. Then, for somewhere around a month an a half after that, she hovered in a state of almost complete depression and despair. Her fiancé was very attentive to her up until the time of her surgery, then he ghosted her. She wouldn’t do her exercises, and she was dealing with phantom pain in a foot that no longer existed.
“The only thing that seemed to shake her out of it was when I agreed to represent her and bring this case. But I did so conditionally, predicated on her following every instruction regarding her care, recovery, and rehabilitation. Every instruction.”
“Peter, please tell me you’re not deliberately under-representing her. I could have you brought before the ethics review board and have you disbarred for telling me that!”
“Alex, do you think I have any prayer of winning?”
He was silent for several moments before he answered.
“With all due respect, no. I don’t think you stand a chance. Hell. I’m surprised Judge McWhirter didn’t throw your case out when I quashed your motion with an affirmative defense! I don’t think for a minute you’re going to be able to win this.”
“Neither do I. Neither do any of my peers. They think it’s an embarrassment that I brought it in the first place. Once again, ma’am, please forgive the charade. It was the only thing I could think of to get my sister to cooperate.”
“How is she?”
He smiled slightly. “She’s turned a corner. She actually is in physical therapy today. So, physically at least, she’s doing well. Emotionally, though, she’s still in a pretty dark place. She was all ramped and ready to run the Chicago Marathon a couple of weeks ago.”
“I know how she feels. So was I,” I said before really thinking how it’d come across, and regretted that I’d spoken.
“No, ma’am, I can’t imagine you do. You’re walking without so much as a limp. I’m sure you’ll be spooled up and anxious to run next year, though, won’t you?”
I was embarrassed at myself, so I remained silent.
“Well. She’s convinced her life is over. Running was her passion. Since we lost our parents, that has been her laser focus.”
“I read a newspaper article from a while back about her running it her first time. I think it said she was sixteen at the time.”
“That’s correct. She placed in the top ten percent of her group.”
“So,” my attorney asked, “Are we just going to sit here and shine each other’s shoes? Where are you going to take it from here?”
“Hold on just a second. Can you give me copies of the summonses you gave the judge so I don’t have to wait for them to come online?”
Alex sat his briefcase on the table, withdrew the documents, and handed them to him.
“Marisol Jamil? I don’t know that name. Is that the person you said was an individual with personal experience in the matter?”
“She is.”
“How?”
“She was the first double amputee female to complete the Chicago Marathon. She did it four years ago,” I said.
“And why would you have her testify in this case? What does that have to do with anything?”
“Because I’m expecting you to argue loss of function, and thus income potential, as part of the monetary damages, and I’m going to have Mrs. Jamil demonstrate that it would be far from the case. Miss Marquette brought her to my attention. She’s a fan, so-to-speak. She reached out to her.”
“So this is a woman who was as equally athletic as Candace was?”
“I don’t think that’s accurate,” I said. “First, she’s probably twice your sister’s age. She’s close to fifty years old. She lost her legs when she was younger than your sister. She didn’t start training to run a marathon until something like ten years had passed.”
“Do you think she’d be willing to sit down with Candace and have a chat?”
“If she was willing to spend a day or two in a courtroom and testify under oath, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind a simple meeting in a comfortable conference room at my office instead,” my attorney said.
Peter Waters sat in one of the chairs at the small table and stared at his folded hands for a few moments.
“Miss Marquette, bear with me. How much money do you have in your checking account right now?”
“What business is that of yours?” Alex intervened.
“Offer to settle with us for ten percent of whatever your balance is. We’ll shake hands, and consider this case settled if you are also willing to have Mrs. Jamil have a candid discussion with my sister.”
I looked at my attorney.
His eyebrows were arched high, and he nodded, hardly subtly.
I removed my phone from my handbag, and opened my banking app. I pulled up the balance of my accounts, and took a screenshot. It took me a few moments in the photo editor to crop everything else out, because the man had only asked about my checking account. I showed the screen to my attorney, and he nodded, writing a note on a scrap piece of paper sitting on the table.
He wrote four names next to it. Candace and Peter Waters, plus mine and his own. He looked at me, tacitly asking if I agreed. I nodded.
“Counselor Waters, my client, River Marquette, would like to tender a counteroffer in an attempt to settle this case.”
“Proceed.”
“Miss Waters is prepared to offer, without any implied acceptance of culpability to your client’s claim of personal injury, the sum of four hundred fifty-two US dollars and zero cents.”
“Counselor Reid, on behalf of my client, Candace Waters, I accept your offer of settlement.”
Alex handed him the ersatz written agreement, then Peter shook my hand and stood.
I began to follow him out, but Alex said, “Peter, we’ll be in there momentarily. River, please hang back a second.”
Peter shut the door behind him.
“Seriously? It’s over just like that?” I asked Alex.
“Well, paint me surprised. I’m definitely including this case in a book I’m writing. I’m keeping real names out of it, of course.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“We’re going to go back in there. The judge will ask Mr. Waters if he’s ready to schedule the trial, at which time he will tell her there’s no need, that his client and mine have reached a settlement. She will then ask me if I concur. I will answer in the affirmative. She will ask him to write up the terms of the settlement, and all parties will sign it in front of a notary. I will then ask him to provide me a receipt for the cashier’s check you will have your bank prepare payable to Candace Waters. He will have already prepared it. We’ll make copies of it all in the office, then he will file it all electronically in the case records. The clerk will notify the judge, at which time she will close the case.
“So, yes. Other than a few more words and some paperwork, it is over. Just like that.”
I couldn’t help myself. I hugged the man. I saw his hands, but I think he second-guessed himself, because he only patted my shoulder timidly.
“Thank you, Counselor,” I said.
“I barely did anything. This was a crazy weird case.”
“Yeah, but yes, you did. You stood there, did your thing, and I think you scared the crap of that guy a little.”
He laughed. “Sometimes it works like that. But hey. Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Sure.”
“Who’s that guy that came with you?”
“His name is Donny McHugh. He’s a firefighter. I met him the night Ms. Waters was injured. His unit was the one that responded. His truck got a hole in it just like me.”
“Donagh McHugh? Declan McHugh’s son?”
“You know his father?” I asked.
“I more than know him,” he laughed. “Declan and I went to college together. We both majored in criminology at SIUC. I did it for pre-law. He went from there straight into the academy. We play golf every now and then. Are you two…”
“Yeah. We kinda are. Next time you and his father are out on the links, you can tell him that he’s raised one hell of a good guy.”
“Ah. Well, I guess that means you’d say no if I were to ask you out for dinner tonight.”
I hope my face didn’t convey the surprise I felt at that question.
“Mister Reid—”
“Age gap too wide?”
“Well, kinda, but mainly because Donny and I—”
“Understood. Never hurts to take the shot, you know? You’re an astonishingly lovely woman, and Donny is a very lucky man to have you.”
I chuckled. “You flatter the crap out of me. I don’t know what to say.”
“Let’s get back in the room before the bell rings and Peter pisses off the judge again,” he said, opening the door for me. He even stepped out to the hall and got Donny’s attention, waving him back inside as well.
The judge was hearing arguments in what sounded like some sort of product liability case.
It took about fifteen minutes for that case to be recessed. The bailiff, having seen us return to the gallery in the courtroom went to Mr. Waters and whispered in his ear. Peter nodded silently at whatever question he asked. He then looked in our direction, and Alex nodded as well. I guess there was some sort of tacit language between them.
Shortly after, Judge McWhirter beckoned us forward.
“Gentlemen, are we ready to set a date?”
“No need, Your Honor. We’ve reached a settlement,” Mr. Waters stated.
The robed woman leaned forward with her forehead in her hands for a few seconds.
“Mister Reid, is this some sort of hallucination I’m having?”
“No, Your Honor. We have, indeed, come to an equitable agreement.”
“This day just keeps getting better. The faster you both file the final papers, the better,” she said then banged the gavel. “Bailiff, please call the next case.”
CHAPTER 8
DONAGH
2:47pm
“That’s it? It’s over?” I whispered into her ear as I clutched her tightly.
“This part is.”
“What’d you agree to?” I asked.
“I don’t get it, Donny. He asked for ten percent of whatever was in my checking account. Not five hundred thousand. I still can’t get my head around all this legal maneuvering. Give me a minute with my lawyer, okay?”
I only nodded, and followed her as she sought to catch up with him.
“Alex, just another quick minute, please?”
“Time’s money, River,” he chuckled.
“Quick question. What can you tell me about grand jury proceedings?”
“Whoa. That’s rather out of the blue. Why are you asking?”
“Because I’ve been told to expect a summons to appear as a witness to one. It’s regarding my ex boyfr— the man who they think put out a hit on me.”
“We can’t be talking like this out here. Let’s go back to the conference room,” he said, turning around and heading back where we came. We entered the room and he closed the door. I sat next to River and she reached for my hand under the table, grasping it.
“Grand jury hearings are secret. Other than if a judge seals a case, they’re probably the only part of our judicial system that is. When you’re called to appear, you will be sworn in. But unlike the oath you took in there, you will also vow to keep the proceedings secret. You can’t discuss anything you see or hear with anyone. Anyone,” he emphasized, shooting a look at me.
He continued. “There will only ever be a single attorney in the room, the prosecutor. There will be the jurors, a clerk, and a bailiff in the room, and they’re all sworn to secrecy as well. The defendant can only be in the room if he or she is testifying as a witness. The defendant is not allowed to have his attorney present for the questioning.
“If the prosecutor is able to sufficiently establish probable cause, the jury will issue an indictment. If they don’t, if they no-bill— is this person in jail?”
“Yes. He was arraigned yesterday. The judge denied him bail.”
“If the grand jury no-bills him, he’ll be released. Then it’s up to the DA’s office if they want to try again. It’s complicated, but consider this. Cook County grand juries indict ninety-five percent of the time. They’d only likely no-bill him if the prosecutor is incompetent.”
“So, what do I do when I’m called?”
He chuckled. “You go. I’m sure you’ve both watched shows like Suits or The Good Wife, right?”
We both nodded.
“So you’ve probably heard an attorney object on the grounds of the other attorney leading a witness?”
River nodded.
“Well. That won’t happen in a grand jury hearing. Let the prosecutor lead you. Don’t perjure yourself, of course. Just answer honestly. You were the victim of a crime. The onus will be on the prosecutor to convince the grand jury that man was the cause in one way or another, and even the jurors can ask you questions. Answer every question with as much detail as you possibly can. Don’t leave anything out. The primary reason the sessions are secret is so witnesses won’t fear retribution for what they testify about. There’s no such thing as too much information when it comes to testimony to a grand jury. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yeah, I think so,” River answered softly.
“Okay. Good luck to you,” Mr. Reid said. “And Donny, give my regards to your father.”
He left us sitting alone.
“Well, isn’t that a kick in the pants. I’ve never met the guy,” I said. “Heard my dad talk about him, sure, but never put two and two together.”
We stood from our seats. River gave me the most tender kiss. She tasted so good.
“Damn, you look beautiful,” I sighed.
“You like this suit? I got it for thirty percent off.”
“Yes. It’s perfect on you. You’d probably look even better if it was a hundred percent off.”
She laughed hard.
“You’re such a goofball,” she grinned.
“Yeah,” I agreed.
I held her delicious, warm little body close to me to give her another kiss. She offered the tip of her tongue, and I give it a gentle suckle, asking for more. She granted my request.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here before someone barges in on us,” River suggested a minute later after removing a smudge of color off my lip with a tissue.
“Good idea. Your place or mine?” I asked.
“If you want to celebrate with some damn good whiskey, my place.”
“Sounds good to me. Maybe we can order up some comfort food and curl up together and stream a movie or something.”
“Yeah,” she smiled.
She turned her back so I could help her with her overcoat. I softly patted her butt after she snugged the coat’s belt at the waist. Even in layers of bulk, she exhibited the most feminine figure imaginable.
We departed the room and trekked down the corridor to the main stairs.
“Ooh! It’s snowing!” River said gleefully when we descended far enough to see the exterior through the glass.
“Outstanding,” I grinned.
River put on a cap that resembled a beret. Well, I guess it was actually a beret. It suited her to a tee. Her cheeks went rosy almost the moment we stepped outside.
I flagged down a taxi, and the driver brought the cab to the curb. I opened the rear door for River, and slid in next to her. She gave the driver an address I knew was near to, but wasn’t her apartment building.
Where are you taking me? I texted River instead of asking aloud because I didn’t want the driver to think I was nuts.
I don’t give random people my address. The one I gave him is that shopping center around the corner.
You gave me your address a few months ago.
You’re no Rando, Rambo 😘
I laughed, and the driver looked at me suspiciously in the rear-view mirror.
“Someone just sent me a funny cat meme,” I chuckled back to him. River jabbed me playfully in my ribs.
Even though the snow wasn’t sticking to the streets yet, it was beginning to accumulate in grassy areas. It was the first significant snow of the season, and traffic was snarled. The fare was going to be a bit on the heavy side because of the time ticks favoring the meter compared to the distance ticks. Didn’t matter. I was with a woman to whom I’d become quite attached and connected over the last four months.
An hour elapsed before we arrived at the address River had given the driver. He stopped in front of Gibbly’s Burgers & Brews.
I paid the fare in the cab company’s app. I exited first and held River’s hand as she climbed out of the vehicle.
We walked to the sidewalk where River stopped.
“Listen,” she said with her eyes closed. “Don’t you just love how the city seems to become so much quieter when it’s snowing?”
“The flakes in the air diffuse sound, and the snow on the ground absorbs it.”
“Seriously?” she laughed. “Leave it to you to geek out on atmospheric acoustical phenomena instead of just enjoying it.”
I closed my eyes and just listened.
“Can we maybe walk around the block once or twice before we go inside? I love the first snow. Please?” she begged, bouncing a little with her knees.
“Sure. Why not?” I said, offering a hand to hold.
We chit-chatted on an almost hour-long walk before the sidewalk began to gather slushy spots.
“We should get inside. My shoe slips are about to wear through. Slush and these shoes don’t go well together,” River suggested.
“Do you want to change them and keep walking?” I asked, because I was thoroughly enjoying it.
“Nah, I’m ready to get out of this suit and into something more caszh.”
“Sure thing.”
We walked another ten minutes before reaching the main entrance to her apartment building, then we went to her unit.
“Make yourself comfy,” she said after she hung my overcoat from a peg by her door. I helped her remove her own, then I sat on the sofa.
“You do realize you are absolutely smoking hot, don’t you?” I asked after she’d hung all her bulky accouterments.
“Says someone who knows what smoking hot literally is,” she grinned.
“Come here,” I said, opening my arms.
She laid her suit coat over the armrest. I scooted a bit forward on the seat and parted my knees. She stepped between them and I wrapped my arms around her waist. She slowly ran her fingers through my hair, holding my head to her chest in a mutual, calming, affectionate hug. I felt the beating of her heart and could smell the scent of her perfume through her silk blouse.
I stroked her back a little firmly with my fingertips, and felt her twist subtly to position my attention to particular spots under shoulder blades.
“Ooh, just a little lower,” she sighed, and I obeyed.
She began to purr. “Oh, yeah. Right there. That feels so good.”
After I’d scratched her back soothingly, I flattened my palms and let them drift to her waist, then a bit lower to hold her stunningly beautiful bottom in my hands. I gently petted her fit and shapely rump as she continued to stroke my scalp with her fingertips. Her heart rate had increased noticeably, and I think mine had, too.
“Hey,” she whispered, barely audibly. “The zipper is at my left hip.”
I couldn’t believe what I thought I’d heard, so I leaned back to look in her eyes. She wore the sweetest, most soothing smile.
PETER WATERS
7:30pm
“You fucking did what?!” she screamed at me, beginning to turn red.
“I settled it, Candace! I settled the damn case!”
“Why?! I didn’t tell you you could do that!”
“Then find another attorney and sue me for malpractice, Candy, because that man had done his job. I told you from the beginning that it was a long shot. Not ten minutes into the hearing, I was expecting the judge to issue a disciplinary sanction to the bar against me for even bringing your complaint to her bench. He properly handed my ass to me. And both Mom and Dad would slap that mouth right off your skull. Watch your language.
“It was a ludicrous idea, and I refuse to jeopardize my reputation just because you’re feeling sorry for yourself. In a few weeks, they’ll come to my office where you’re going to sign a few documents that will be filed at the courthouse. It’ll then be forever a matter of public record that you were offered a settlement, and you accepted.”
“God! I can’t believe you didn’t ask my permission first! Four hundred fifty dollars,” she scoffed.
“Four fifty-two,” I corrected her.
“Not funny!” she yelped.
“I can’t rake that woman over the coals, Candace, I just can’t. It’s not fair to her. She saved your life, and I, for one, am happy with her decision and willingness to do it. She’s a beautiful woman, and I just won’t—”
“Did you just say she’s beautiful? You did this because you have the hots for the woman that maimed me?”
“Candy, it’s done. It’s over. I’ve settled it. You want to rip her a new one, you’re going to have to find someone else to represent you. And good luck with that. Only a knuckle dragging ambulance chaser would take on your case.”
She laughed. “You did!”
“Candy, I did it because I love you and I could see no other way to get you to start taking care of yourself. I’d have been devastated if you’d died. I’d have taken the blame for that to my own grave, and I’d not have shared an ounce of it with Miss Marquette.
“Besides! Look at you! Your prosthetist is saying you’re progressing faster than most of her clients considering you’re already back on your feet.”
“Seriously? Back on my feet?”
“C’mon. She said you need to try to train your brain by thinking of your prosthesis as a real part of you. So yes. Your feet.”
She scratched her residual limb through her compression sock.
“This is so weird,” she said.
“What is?”
“The itch I’m scratching feels like it’s in the arch of my missing foot,” she actually chuckled. “But scratching here feels so good. It’s actually working.”
“Oh! That’s… um—” I snapped my fingers trying to remember the term, “Uh… referred sensation.”
“I guess,” she said.
“See, Sis? You’re adapting. I know you still feel like you’re in a dark tunnel. But can’t you see the light at the end yet?”
“No. I miss Kirk.”
“You miss him? He dumped you, Candy! You shouldn’t miss someone who wasn’t willing to stick with you through tough times.”
“I know, I know,” she sighed in resignation.
“Why are you still wearing the ring?”
“Because it feels weird not having it on my finger. I don’t need another appendage feeling strange.”
“You should take it off, Candy. You need to consider yourself and let guys notice that you’re… well, available.”
“As if,” she scoffed
The mood had lightened quite a bit. I hoped I’d put the fire out.
“Okay. Well, I’m headed home.”
“Peter, you need to find someone, too. You’ve always been a great brother, and I love you to death because you gave up a good chunk of your own young adult life to take care of me, and I’ll never be able to repay that. But I think it’s way past time for you to find me a sister-in-law.”
“Well, I’m thinking about asking Miss Marquette out for dinner. She’s close to my age, I think.”
“Get out!” she shouted, but I could tell it was tempered with humor instead of her former ire.
“They made an appointment to meet at my office on the nineteenth at four o’clock. If you need me to, I can come pick you up and take you.”
“Whatever,” she said. “I can drive myself.”
“Stand up and give me a hug before I leave.”
I was a bit surprised that she did.
RIVER
7:44pm
That sweet, devilishly handsome man amazed the blazes out of me. Part of the reason was because of how he treated me. Politely would be an insult, because he rose well above that. Chivalry isn’t dead after all, it’s only redefined. Donny didn’t dote on me as if I were a fragile kitten or a weak, helpless damsel. He definitely treated me as an equal, and knew I could be tough-as-nails when needed. It was that type of chivalry which oozed from his very core. Absolutely genuine concern over my well-being seemed to be more important to him than his own. I knew it wasn’t, really, because he did a damn-fine job taking care of himself. It made me feel good when he began to allow me the pleasure of caring for him, too. What was so perfect was our mutuality.
But just right then. Right then, he exhibited his most endearing trait. He’d sought confirmation of my consent. I adored that about him. He respected boundaries like no other man I’d ever dated.
I remember the evening I unintentionally hurt him. It was because I laughed when he asked if he could “touchy my pretty tushy.”
I laughed not because I thought it was stupid or immature, which I didn’t, and not because of the word he used to describe my butt, but because not one— not one man I was ever involved with asked my permission before escalating intimate overtures and it genuinely surprised me and pleased me. I’d laughed because he’d thrilled me and made me happy.
But I saw in his eyes the indication of the injury I’d inflicted. That evening— that very moment was when I realized I was falling in love with the most selfless man I’d ever encountered. The man that was lovingly exploring the shape of my body was the one I wanted inside it.
“Yeah,” I whispered, guiding his right hand. “Right here.”
I felt his fingers at my hip and felt them lower the zipper’s slider. He did it so slowly that I couldn’t tell whether he was nervous, uncertain, or… what. It didn’t matter to me because my desire and anticipation escalated. I wanted him. I wanted him, and I was quite happy to take the lead.
My skirt fell to the floor when Donny unfastened the clasp.
“Oh, hell,” he whimpered.
DONAGH
I wasn’t just light headed like I’d get when I kissed her, I truly thought I’d succumb to reflex vasovagal syncope. The woman had, quite literally, stunned me breathless. Standing mere inches in front of me, River wore nothing but a silk blouse and the most sexy-looking midnight-blue panties. The shape of the lowest part of her tummy… the way her curves met together at the apex of her thighs, the beautiful curve in the cloth that hid her sex and disappeared between her toned thighs… I thought my heart was going to jump out of my chest.
“Start at the bottom,” she whispered again, subtly fluttering the plackets of her blouse.
“You’re gonna kill me, River,” I sighed as I unbuttoned the lowest.
“Hmm,” she sighed back.
I slowly worked open her shirt, saving the top-most button for last, I put my hands on her hips and nudged her to turn her back toward me. Her gorgeous backside was effectively bare. I ran the backs of my fingers softly over her flesh, and felt it become all bumpy from the sensation. I leaned slightly forward in my seat and softly kissed each of her firm, warm, perfectly smooth cheeks. Barely visible, faded tan lines evidenced the style of her favored swimwear, something she’d worn during her vacation in Florida. It made me look forward to late spring and summer even more. I kissed the small sliver of cloth at the base of her back where it disappeared into her cleft. She turned back around, looking at me with a sexy smile.
I stood and lifted her chin. I stroked the soft fabric with my hands, down her arms, bringing her wrists together in front of her. I released the buttons at the cuffs. I brought both hands upward, and kissed her wrists. The subtle perfume was there, too.
“May I slip this off your shoulders?” I whispered as I unfastened the last button.
She nodded. The soft silk slid down her arms. She laid it with her coat, reached down to pick up her skirt, and did the same thing with it.
I stepped back a little and studied her. She was so gorgeous. I realized I was biting the middle knuckle of my index finger when the discomfort awakened me. I’d actually left teeth marks in my finger. She’d pulled the clips out of her hair, releasing the bun. Its former styling had made her hair even more wavy. I loved the feel of its silk as I ran the fingers of both hands through it.
Her breasts perfectly filled the cups of her bra. Seeing her standing there with her long, silky black hair made it almost a damn-near impossibility for me to think of her as a former Staff Sergeant. Hell, I was only an E5, so she outranked me. I’d met some tough-as-shit women in the Corps, and I didn’t doubt for a second she was, too.
“Baby, unhook my bra, please? I want your hands on me.”
I heard the tremble in her whimpers before she turned her back to me again.
“River, are you sure?” I asked, softly kissing her shoulder blades.
“Yes, Donagh,” she spoke, pronouncing my name perfectly. “Absolutely. Yes. I want you. I need you tonight, okay?”
I carefully worked open the clasps of her bra. It was such a dainty, delicate thing, I was afraid I’d ruin it. I ran my hands along her ribs and soft skin of her tummy. I slowly allowed them to rise. I slid them under the lacy cups, kissing the nape of her neck and her shoulders. I felt the slight impression the garment had left in her skin directly under her breasts, and shaped my hands to softly caress and soothe it.
She took my hands and brought them upward, enveloping her breasts with them. I softly squeezed and kneaded them, hearing her sighs as I stroked her nipples with my thumbs, making them rigid.
“Oh, Riv,” I moaned, delighting in the feminine features I held in my hands.
RIVER
That. That name! Anyone other than my closest family that tried to address me by that name would have caught a ration of rebuke, but the timbre of his voice as he uttered that reserved diminutive sunk deeply into my soul. Like when the bassist in a jazz quartet plucks the E string of an upright and it resonates throughout its body, his utterance of those two little syllables resonated throughout mine.
I reached behind me, grasping, and pulled us closer. Through his slacks, I could feel his aroused state against the top of my butt.
“My turn, Donagh,” I whimpered.
I grabbed his neck and brought his mouth to mine. Our tongues meshed and our mouths suckled the other’s. I bit at his lip and held it between my teeth, grasping at his muscular ass.
Still kissing, I unbuckled the leather belt he wore, and removed it from his slacks. It made popping noises as it passed quickly through the loops. The button released, I pulled against the waistbands and his zipper went down. I pushed my hand inside and found his flesh, hot, hard, and dampened with his pre-seed.
I felt his body quake with a sudden inhalation as I stroked his erection firmly with the heel of my palm. He wriggled and writhed, trying to get his pants to drop to the floor. It didn’t work.
I released his lip from my mouth. He quickly shucked his sweater and the plain white undershirt he wore beneath it. I marveled at his pecs and abs as he struggled to remove his slacks from his ankles. Apparently losing his balance, he fell backward into the couch.
“Dammit!” he growled in frustration at his predicament.
I swatted away his frantic but addled hands. I slid his leather loafers off his feet, grabbed the hems of his slacks, and discarded them halfway across the room.
The look on his face set my hair on fire. Lust. Pure, wild, unattenuated want was painted all over him. I knew he wanted me, and I wasn’t about to stop him because I wanted him, too. I straddled his thighs and positioned my crotch against his bulging boxers.
I already had seen smudged lipstick on his face, and I didn’t care. I’m sure he could taste it, and he seemed unperturbed. I wanted to taste his tongue and the saliva coating it again.
“Baby, give me your tongue,” I hissed at him, and he refused me.
“Find your own,” he teased and smiled wickedly.
I wrapped my forearms under his armpits, and rubbed my clitoris against his shaft through the two layers of clothing separating our parts. Our groans of sudden intense physical stimulation were abrupt and simultaneous.
“Before you ask,” I grunted, rubbing his dick with my clad pussy. “Yes, Donagh. The answer is yes. I want you inside me.”
That earned me his tongue which I relished.
I felt him push slightly at my shoulders. I leaned back and put my hands on his knees. He leaned forward and grasped my left breast, squeezing it outward, and enveloped my whole areola, suckling. I felt the electric flashes zipping down to my feet.
With one hand, I took a fistful of his hair into my grip and pushed him into my breast, then drew him to other. With his hands, he lifted my arms over my head and ran the backs of his fingertips down my armpits. Those zaps went through my scalp and down my sides.
I needed him inside me!
I reached down and drew his throbbing penis through the fly of his boxers, pulled the crotch of my panties aside, and impaled myself on his shaft. I almost wanted to weep at the pleasure, intimacy, and emotional connectedness I suddenly felt when he filled my throbbing emptiness.
DONAGH
I almost began to cry when the fiery vixen took me into her tightness. Her little pussy was so warm and snug, slippery with the love liquid that’d already dampened my boxers.
The essence of saline I tasted on her breasts fed a desire I hadn’t acknowledged.
My penis was inside the most incredible woman I’d ever known, and she was pleasuring it perfectly.
I held her gorgeous little backside in my hands as she bounced and bounded on me. The scent of her sex rose from her groin. I orgasmed as soon as I smelled it.
“God, Riv!” I grunted hoarsely as I ejaculated into her depths.
“I’m almost there, Donny! Don’t stop. Please!” she hissed, drilling my eyes with laser-like intensity.
I desperately wanted her to feel the same satisfaction before I went soft. I licked my three middle fingers and plunged them near our intersection, hoping the sensation of my fingertips at her clitoris would help send her over the edge.
“Yeah. There! Right there!” she yelped, her eyes closed.
Her facial muscles tightened into a grimace. She stopped breathing. Her eyes flew open, her jaw dropped, and she stared into my soul as her climax washed over her. She propelled herself forward, once again wrapping her arms underneath mine, and embraced me, kissing my neck and its crook tenderly while panting.
“Oh. My. God.” she whispered. “I needed that, Baby. I can’t tell you how good you make me feel.”
I softly tickled her back as she held herself as close to me as she could. Satisfied, she drew back and looked at me with a relaxed, dreamy expression. We kissed softly, slowly, tenderly, for several wordless moments. Finally, when she took a deep breath, I fell out of her satisfied vulva.
“Oops, we’ve made a bit of a mess of our undies,” she frowned cutely.
“Hey, Riv?”
“Yeah, Baby?”
“I want to tell you something, and I want you to know that you don’t have to say it back,” I said, pausing to watch her expressions for clues. “I just want to tell you that—”
“I’m in love with you, too, Donny,” she whispered. “Totally and completely. I hope that’s what you were about to say.”
I smiled broadly. “You are completely adorable, you know that?”
“Yeah, I know,” she said innocently.
She climbed off of my lap. Her panties were stretched to the side and as sodden as my boxers were.
“If you don’t mind going commando for an hour or so, I can put them on a quick-wash cycle.”
“No prob,” I said.
She helped me to a stand, and carefully removed them from me. She gently used them to mop me up, knelt, kissing my limp penis several times. “There ya go, big guy. Get some rest. You’ll be busy later,” she cooed at it softly. She made me laugh.
She tossed my boxers in her washing machine and started it while I put my undershirt and trousers back on, being extra careful not to catch skin in the zipper. She disappeared into her bedroom for a few minutes, but returned wearing pajamas that looked very comfortable. I took her warm body in mine and simply held her.
When all was settled, we ordered in some dinner, and cuddled on the couch watching a movie while we ate.
RIVER
10:06pm
It’s hard to describe the ease and contentment of snuggling with a lover. Not just a lover, mind you, but the one I was deeply in love with. Yes, there’s a difference. And Donny was both. We’d both revealed our deepest affection to each other only hours earlier.
The way he softly ran his fingers through my hair, softly scritching and rubbing my scalp almost kept the goosebumps alive the entire time. Then, during a commercial break, he offered a shoulder and back massage. I wasn’t about to refuse something like that.
I repositioned myself at the edge of the sofa between his knees, and he had me sighing and purring within minutes as he worked certain muscle groups. I offered to remove my pajama top, but he suggested I leave it since I didn’t have any massage oil. He said leaving the clothing on would prevent chafed skin, so I remained clothed. But not for long.
I could tell he was becoming interested in more when his hands slowly encroached under my arms for a little bit of no-bra side-boob, and I encouraged it by opening my arms a little wider.
After a few balked gropes, I leaned back against him, my shoulder below his neck and rested my head on his shoulder. I propped both feet up on the ottoman. Finally, after agonizing teases, he slipped his hands fully around my breasts and softly, slowly fondled me. He was so gentle as he stroked and pawed, again, studying my body tactiley. My nipples were rigid already before he began gently pinching and rolling them with his thumbs and fingers through the flannel of my pajamas.
I could feel myself becoming wet again.
“Hey, Riv?”
“Yeah, Baby?” I answered and lowered the TV’s volume.
“Would it be okay if I stay the night with you?”
I powered off the TV, stood, grabbed his arm, and pulled.
“I thought you’d never ask,” I grinned.
DONAGH
10:32pm
My damned cellphone rang right when I was on the brink! It went automatically into “Do Not Disturb” mode at 10:00pm, so I knew it was either a breakthrough double-ring call, or someone on my exception list such as the emergency dispatcher.
I grabbed it off the table to reject the call but saw the display.
“Shit. It’s my dad.”
River scooted herself out from underneath me.
“It can wait,” I said.
“Go ahead, Donny. Answer it,” River encouraged, nodding toward my phone. “At this time of night, it must be something important.”
I begrudgingly slid the answer slider. “Hey, Dad, is something wrong? Mom okay?”
“Everything’s fine at home, Son, but I just got called by the Cook County DA’s office. There’s an already-impanelled grand jury ready to hear the Dennis Swanson charges. As a courtesy, the ADA told me your name is on the witness list.”
“Mine?” I barked. “Why?”
“I have no idea. I just wanted to let you know as soon as I found out. You should expect to be served any day now.”
“Oh. Uh, hold on, dad,” I said when I looked over at River. She was on her knees on the bed with lowered shoulders, arching her back with her gorgeous derriere pointed at me. My penis involuntarily twitched when I saw her wink.
She saw me looking, shuffled toward me, and motioned for me to lay on my back.
“Everything okay?” my dad said after the few moments of silence.
“Uh, yeah. Just a bit distracted thinking about what you’ve told me.”
“I understand. Don’t worry about it.”
River sheathed me wearing the most wickedly devious smile on her face.
I had to force myself not to grunt or groan as she began to ride me.
“Oh. Also, that girl you know, Ms. Marquette?”
“Yeah, Dad?” I strained a little, struggling to fight my climax. River wasn’t struggling, she had no problem letting hers go, but remained completely mute throughout it. But I could tell because she mouthed “Cumming cumming cumming” with her eyes clamped closed.
“She should expect service, too.”
I smacked the Red X on my phone’s display because I didn’t want to him to hear my following outburst of laughter at his unknown pun or inadvertently advertise I was about explode into the woman whose beautiful name he just mentioned.
River laughed hard after I recovered from my orgasm.
“Oh, hell, girl. You are dangerous!” I giggled. “I’d better call him back before he sends out a detective.”
“Let me get something to clean you up,” she smiled.
I looked at the call history and tapped the most recent of the list.
“Sorry, but I had a pot boiling over. I guess I accidentally hit the button and hung up on you,” I said as soon as he answered.
River softly shrieked a stifled guffaw when she heard what I’d said.
“No problem— Uh… Donny, do you have someone— Oh, hell. I’m sorry, Kid. Did I call at a bad time?”
“It’s okay, Dad. I’m glad you did.”
River settled next to me and cleansed me with a warm washcloth. When she started fiddling with my bits more than necessary, I shot her a stern look and mouthed a “No!” and wagged an extended forefinger. She wiggled her nose at me and dealt with the soiled linen.
“Anyway, I thought it best you know so you won’t surprised. Don’t try to be one of those idiots that try to dodge a process server. I would imagine for something like this, it’ll be a county deputy, and he or she is just doing their job.”
“I understand. Thanks for the heads-up.”
“The info came from the DA who’s allowed to disclose such things, but I think it best you keep it to yourself. And— tell your… friend the same thing.”
“G’night, Father,” I chuckled. “She says ‘Hi’ by the way.”
RIVER
“What was all that about?” I asked after I slugged his shoulder for revealing I was with him at such an hour.
“I’m gonna get served a subpoena. Both of us are. The ADA prosecuting your ex told him.”
“Huh?” I said. “Why on earth would he serve you?”
“I dunno,” he said. “I guess I’ll know when it happens. But Dad said I should consider hiring an attorney.”
“We should both talk to Mr. Reid. We can call his office Monday.”
“Good idea. Maybe he’ll answer early enough that we can both talk to him before you go on shift.”
“We can Zoom even if I am, unless we get called out first thing,” he said. “I love you, Riv.”
I turned out the lights and snuggled into my guy. “I love you more.”
“Don’t even,” he chuckled, not falling into the game played by new lovebirds since forever.
CHAPTER 9
RIVER
Monday, November 18, 2019, 8:36am
“Miss Marquette, I am Assistant District Attorney Dwight Cunningham. I don’t wish to waste your time, so, you having been duly sworn in, I’m going to get right to it,” the man said.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Ma’am, please begin by describing your relationship to Dennis Swanson.”
“We dated for a few months.”
“How did the two of you come to meet?”
“During an investigation I was working on.”
“Oh— I’m sorry. An investigation? Please explain.”
“I am a licensed private investigator in the states of Illinois and Indiana. A client hired me to look into a matter of marital infidelity, and gave me his name since he was an officer who’d intervened in a domestic dispute between her and her spouse.”
“Please. Tell us more about this.”
I did.
“And what caused your, if you’ll forgive the expression, falling-out?”
“His attitude, mostly. When I was ‘working with’ him, he—”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but the stenographer may miss non-verbal gestures, so I’ll ask you to avoid them.”
“It’s a bit understandable that the professional relationship between police officers, especially badged detectives, and private investigators can be somewhat strained and sometimes contentious. But, when I was talking to him, he answered my questions, always treating me with atypical respect and courtesy. It was unusual, and came as a bit of a surprise. To me, he came across as level-headed, even-keeled, and very good at citizen interaction. I liked that about him. I guess we kind of hit it off, and we began seeing each other socially.”
“Would you say that it was he or you that initiated an other-than-professional interaction?”
“It was me. I was the first one to suggest we go out to dinner and not talk about work.”
“So, the falling-out came when?”
“When all of that changed. After maybe a half dozen dates, he started to sort of puff up and act like he was better than everyone around him. But, more importantly, that he was better than me. He seemed to thrill on any adrenaline rush. I’m a marine, and I’d grown sick and tired of that kind of mentality. So, I broke it off.”
“Members of the jury,” he spoke to the group, “You have already heard testimony from the investigator from CPD’s Internal Affairs Division, and I ask you to recall that as I ask these next questions.”
“Miss Marquette, do you have cause to believe that Dennis Swanson retaliated as a result of the cessation of your relationship?”
“Yes. I do.”
Twenty minutes passed as I explained the speeding ticket and my weeks-long effort which followed.
“I’ll ask you again, only for clarity. Did you ever follow through on your threat of exposing his fraud?”
“I did not.”
“Why not?”
I considered his question for quite a few moments. “I don’t have a clear answer. Maybe I thought he’d stop doing it because he knew it’d come to light one way or another. I explained to him how I became aware of it, and told him it was only a matter of time before a pattern emerged.”
“What led you to believe that Mr. Swanson was responsible for your injury?”
“One of the Chicago Fire Department’s men did a bit of investigative work on his own. I’d asked the anesthesiologist who did my surgery to ask for photographs of the bullet which hit me.
“I’d taken Don— the Second Fire Battalion some homemade peanut butter cookies as a thank-you of sorts for taking care of me and the other injured woman— her name was Candace Waters. One of the guys helped me clean myself up after helping Ms. Waters, and—”
“I’m sorry for interrupting. One of the guys? Which one of the guys might that have been?”
I briefly considered answering that I didn’t know, but then Alex Reid’s cautions and advice ran through my head.
“His name is Donagh McHugh.”
I actually thought I’d seen a flash of a grin on the ADA’s face and wondered if he was surprised I’d answered honestly.
“Donagh McHugh is the son of the Chief of Detectives, Declan Donagh McHugh, is that correct?”
“I believe that to be correct.”
“Please continue. Forgive my interruption.”
“So we discussed a lot of things at various points, and at one meal we shared, he described that he thought Officer Swanson’s actions during the shooting event seemed almost rehearsed or something. Like he expected it.”
“Miss Marquette, is it your belief that Mister Swanson may have arranged to have you murdered?”
“I don’t know if it’s my belief, Sir, but as an investigator myself, I certainly suspect that he did.”
“Fair enough. And, forgive me for asking, do you remain in contact with him?”
“Dennis Swanson? Hell no. Aside from a few words we exchanged while I was tending to the other shooting victim, I hadn’t spoken to him in more than a year.”
“No, I’m sorry. I am asking if you remain in contact with Donagh McHugh.”
“I do,” I answered, hoping I wasn’t reflexively smiling. “We’ve become quite close friends.”
“I see. Given your… relationship to Donagh McHugh, and his familial link to the Chief of Detectives, Miss Marquette, do you have any reason, any reason at all to perceive any sort of conflicts of interest in this matter?”
“None at all,” I answered.
“Very well. Members of the jury, I’d like to present some body-camera footage from Dennis Swanson’s partner, Officer Justin Rogers. Pause me now if you have any questions of Miss Marquette.”
A few jurors did. Again, I remembered Alex’s guidance that I answer every question completely, so I did exactly that.
When they were satisfied, ADA Cunningham played the video.
The corner of the video stream indicated it’d been taken on August 17.
“What the hell happened?” asked Justin Rogers.
“You’re going to have to speak up, Justin! I can barely hear you over the ringing in my ears— No. Never mind. I shouldn’t even be talking to you!”
“We’ve got some time before they get here, and I need to know what happened! We shouldn’t have split up!”
“I knocked on the door, right? The guy answered. Everything seemed cool and all. I asked him a few questions, and it all seemed ordinary. He even asked me to come in because he told me he wanted to talk to his PO before he answered more questions, and I told him that was a good idea. He went for his back pocket, and I was thinking he was only reaching for a cellphone.
“But here’s the deal, you know? I saw he had a land line, and also caught sight of his cell sitting there. I don’t know. I guess instinct or reflex or something hit me, because I drew my weapon. I guess that surprised him, because when he discharged his, it was too soon, you know? I had to take him down, Justin, I didn’t have a choice!”
“Sounds reasonable to me. Your body-cam will back all that up, right?”
“Yeah. You’re right. Be careful. Don’t get yourself wrapped around my axle.”
“Okay,” said the man with Justin’s voice.
The video showed the arrival of the incident commander.
“Scene secured?” that man asked.
“Yes, sir,” Justin’s voice answered. The video caught his partner’s nods.
“Okay. You both can shut your cameras off now.”
The video showed Dennis Swanson interacting with his and the audio captured two long beeps.
“Officer Swanson,” said the incident commander, “Your body cam was already off? Explain that.”
“I can’t! I don’t know what happened! I’m almost certain I activated it when Justin and I exited our cruiser outside!”
“Miss Marquette, does the video you’ve just seen give you any additional cause to believe—”
“I’m sorry,” I gasped. “What did you just show me? What did any of that have to do with me?”
“Oh. I’m sorry, ma’am, perhaps I should’ve been more clear. The people are asking the grand jury to true-bill Dennis Swanson for homicide in the second degree in the death of one Sidney Wyatt. The people believe Sidney Wyatt was the man that shot you.”
I couldn’t believe what I’d been told. Up until that moment, I believed Dennis had been arrested for murder for hire, and this case was involving me. What I’d just been told was that he was arrested for murdering someone else. Successfully.
My mind was reeling. I was replaying in my head seeing it on the news that he’d been in an officer-involved shooting, and that the internal investigation cleared him of wrong-doing.
“Miss Marquette?” Mr. Cunningham said.
“I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well all of the sudden. May I be excused for a few minutes to—”
“Of course. We’re due for a break anyway. Madam foreperson, may I suggest we take a thirty minute recess? I reserve leave to recall miss Marquette immediately following.”
One of the women rose from her seat. “Good idea. All, let’s reconvene at 10:30 sharp. We are in recess. You’re free to leave the room, ma’am, and I’ll remind you not to discuss the proceedings with anyone.”
I nodded, grabbed my purse, and fled to the nearest ladies’ room. I sat on a toilet and couldn’t decide whether I should bawl with embarrassment that I’d basically dated a man capable of murder and that I’d apparently driven him to kill someone, or rip the stall door off its damned hinges in fury at myself for being so blind.
I’d been crying for a few minutes when I heard a voice on the other side of the stall door.
“Honey, you okay in there?”
“Sure,” I lied to a stranger, flushing the toilet to rid myself of the wad of tissue I’d been using to blot my eyes, also hoping the dodge would make it look like I’d actually used the facility for its intended purpose instead of hiding in it to bawl my brains out.
When I left the stall, I saw a face I recognized from the jury room. It was an elderly dark-skinned woman who was a member of the grand jury.
“Oh, Miss Marquette,” she said, recognizing me as well. “It’s gonna be alright, Sweetie,” she said, rubbing the side of my shoulder.
“Of course it is,” I said sarcastically. “I just learned I was sh—”
“Huh-uh. No, ma’am. We’re not gonna talk about that. ‘Gainst the rules.”
“Yeah,” I said, sniffling.
“Baby, you gonna be fine. You just wait and see. You gonna be just fine. You doin’ the right thing, okay?”
I nodded, taking a paper towel from the dispenser so I could clear my sinuses.
“All better?” she asked.
“I will be.”
“Need a hug?” she asked. She was such a sweet, compassionate soul in a dark place with her arms held out.
“Kinda,” I said, accepting it.
“There ya go,” she said with a deep smile after she gave me a gentle, grandmotherly embrace. “Lucky there’s a mirror in here and good light. I tell you, Child, you ain’t the first woman I seen losing it in here.”
Oh, God, I thought when I looked at myself in the mirror. I was a wreck. It was going to take me quite a little time to fix that.
“Keep your chin up, Child. It’ll be just fine,” she said as she entered a stall and took care of her own business.
I was still fixing my face when she left. I went back into the jury room just before 10:30. I remained on the stand for about another hour wrapping up the questions, finishing up just before they all broke for lunch.
Thank God, Donny was waiting for me when I left the room. I didn’t even say a word, I just embraced him.
“Don’t ask me any questions I can’t talk about, okay?” I said.
“I won’t. Are they done with you?”
“Yeah. I was just released,” I said, giving him a publicly appropriate smooch because I needed to.
“I guess that means I’ll be called in right at 1:00.”
“Let’s go get something to eat, huh? I need some comfort food.”
“Sure, Baby. Let’s go.”
DONAGH
1:11pm
After the ADA introduced himself, he dove right into it.
“Please describe your relationship to one River Evelyn Marquette.”
Oh, wow. Evelyn? I’d never known her middle name up to that point. It’d simply never come up. But I knew I loved it.
I answered his question. Thankfully, he didn’t dive in for any details.
“Had you ever met Dennis Swanson before the events at Dunbar Park?”
“I didn’t really even meet him then. He was dispatched there and kind of kept to himself. His partner was the one that talked to Riv— Miss Marquette. One of the guys I work with, though, did say he had a bit of a reputation. That’d he’d roughed up someone that got cross with him. He said he cautioned Miss Marquette from interacting with him because he was getting a sense she was about to pop off some choice words to him, which he would have deserved. He was taunting her at the scene.”
“How so?”
“Calling her names she didn’t care for. Like ‘Markie.’ And asking her if she got her dainty little hands messy or something like that. I mean, hell! She was bloodied all the way to her elbows. He was definitely taunting her.”
“Was it at all evident to you that she and he had a past?”
“No. I didn’t learn of their history until months later. And when I did, and after she started describing in more detail, that’s when I knew I had to get her to speak to the Chief of Detectives. My father.”
“Jurors, any questions for this witness?” Mr. Cunningham asked.
Hearing none, he stuffed all his notes into his briefcase.
“Madam Foreperson, Mr. McHugh is the last witness on my list. Do you have any questions for me, or a desire to call for additional testimony?”
“No, Mister Cunningham. We have nothing further, and require no additional witnesses.”
“Very well. I shall leave you to your deliberations. Mr. McHugh, you can follow me.”
River met us in the hallway where he thanked us both again. He explained that it was the second day of testimony. He, of course, couldn’t name any names, but in his comments to the jurors, I’d gleaned a few. I knew that my father, two of his detectives, the Internal Affairs investigator, and, of course, River were among them.
“Mister Cunningham, here you go,” said the foreperson who walked up to him, handing him some papers.
“That didn’t take long,” the ADA said to her.
“What are you complaining about?” she chuckled. “You ready to start on your next charge?”
“Not yet, ma’am, but I will be by the top of the hour. Just need to duck into my office for a bit and get things in order for it.”
“Okay. We’ll break for a while,” she said, returning to the room.
He turned back to us and said, “It’s been signed. True billed. Mr. Dennis Swanson has been indicted on the charge of homicide in the second degree in the death of Sidney Wyatt.”
“Wait. That’s all?” I almost yelped.
“For now. It’s an indictment. He won’t get bail, and it’ll be an easier case to win. We can re-indict him any time in the future on a higher charge.”
“But what about me?” River asked. “What about what he did to me?”
“I understand that it may feel like a miscarriage of justice, ma’am, but I’m hoping facts will come out in the trial that will make that an easier bow to tie. But for now, we’re starting here.”
“So… nothing?”
“Again, for now. Try to enjoy the rest of your day,” he said, walking the opposite direction as River and I headed toward the street.
River and I held each other in a hug because, at least, that part of her challenges was over, and it felt like unwanted weight had been lifted from both of our shoulders.
We dashed to my apartment because we wanted to feel the weight of each other’s bodies.
CHAPTER 10
CANDACE WATERS
Tuesday, November 19, 2019, 4:00pm
My brother escorted me to a conference room at his firm’s offices as soon as I arrived. There were already papers sorted and ready, as well as a box of new ball-point pens. The good kind. I had a few at home and even some in the office I hadn’t been to in four months.
“Get comfy,” he said. “Help yourself to a pop, I’m going to wait for them in the lobby.”
I was beginning to get accustomed to my prosthesis, but I still used crutches if my balance began to falter. I went to the sideboard which had a fridge underneath the counter and pulled out a can of diet Coke. I knew Peter preferred the leaded sort, so I took a red can and put it on the table next to me.
I sat and waited, doing a Sudoku on my phone when I heard familiar voices nearing the door. The first was Peter’s.
“So about five o’clock?” I heard him asking.
“That’s what I requested,” said a voice that sounded like opposing counsel.
“Y’all make yourselves comfortable. There’s pop and other drinks in that fridge if you’d like,” he gestured as they entered the room.
“Peter,” said the man that was, in fact, the woman’s attorney, “I hope I didn’t overreach by telling her that she can bring her son with her. He’s sitting for the bar in a few weeks.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem at all,” my brother answered. “Do you know where he went to school?”
“UC Law, I believe,” Mr. Reid answered.
“Well, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” Peter said, gesturing to a couple of chairs on the opposite side of the table.
“Miss Marquette, here is the settlement agreement my paralegal prepared. It has already been reviewed by myself and my sis— my client. Please review it with your attorney.”
My brother slid the papers across the table to her. She positioned it on the table between her and her attorney, and they read it silently. After a minute or two, she looked upward to her lawyer who then looked at her and nodded.
“This is acceptable,” Mr. Reid said.
“Excellent. Miss Marquette, please initial in the box on each page and sign at the bottom of the last.”
“Candy, your turn,” Peter said after the woman did her thing and handed the papers to him across the table.
I removed a pen from the box and did the same thing.
Several more documents were “executed” in a similar manner.
“God. Feels like I’m closing on a house,” I murmured as I signed the last document.
The lady across the table chuckled. “Right?”
I entered the room earlier thinking I’d hate the woman. I honestly did. But it just wasn’t there. I don’t know. Maybe the counseling I’d been attending for the last two months was helping. Maybe it was because I was back on my feet. Maybe it was just the passage of time.
The last thing exchanged was a check and a receipt, then Peter’s assistant took all the documents, xeroxed them, and brought more stacks of papers to the room where they were all sorted out between us.
“You’re e-Filing everything, correct?” Mr. Reid asked my brother.
“Yeah. She scanned them while copying. I can get you copies of the PDFs if you’d like,” he said.
“No need.”
“I’m sorry for interrupting, Mr. Waters, but there’s some people in the lobby that said they’re here for a five o’clock?” said a guy from the door.
“Would you show Miss Marquette to the lobby? I believe they’re her guests.”
“Sure. Ma’am?” he said to the other woman who stood to follow him.
I saw my brother staring at her butt as she walked out, and I kicked him with my real foot.
A few minutes later, three people were shown into the room.
“Everyone, this is Marisol Jamil. Mrs. Jamil, this is Alex Reid, my attorney, and Candace and Peter Waters,” she began the introductions.
The woman walked around the table and shook everyone’s hands, saving mine for last.
“It’s nice to meet all of you. Please call me Mari. This is my son, Kelley.”
“Mr. Waters, I appreciate you allowing me to observe. I graduated from law school in June, and I’m about to sit for the bar in December.”
“So I’ve heard. Unfortunately, we’ve already done all the paperwork, but if you’d like, I can show you around and introduce you to a few people here while your mother and my client have a chat.”
I think my eyebrows had never scrunched further than they did. I was confused, and I think Miss Marquette noticed.
“Miss Waters,” she said, “I wanted you two to meet. Mari ran the Chicago marathon back in October. Fourth time. She’s even ran the Boston marathon last year.”
“Okay, and why is that important?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound flippant. “Why are you bringing that up?”
Mrs. Jamil walked back to my side of the table with a grin that suggested she knew something I didn’t. She took some of the fabric of both of her pant legs in her hands and pulled upward. I instinctively looked down. I swear I almost felt my jaw land in my lap when I saw her stylish dress shoes were on artificial feet. Both of them.
I was stunned to absolute stone cold silence.
“Almost everyone reacts that way,” her son chuckled. “I keep telling her she should stop doing that to strangers, but she won’t listen to me.”
“We’ll leave y’all to it. Kelley, lets give them some space,” Peter said, gesturing to the door.
“Counselor, do you mind if we tag along?” Mr. Reid asked.
“Not at all.”
PETER WATERS
I escorted my guests through our firm’s spacious facility for around fifteen minutes. Marvin Estes, the senior partner, happened to be in the library when we arrived there, and I introduced Kelley Jamil to him. Marvin spent a few minutes chatting with Kelley, ending with, “Interesting last name. Do you know its origin?”
The younger man eloquently described his heritage. He was well-postured and poised. I knew that if he decided to be a litigator, he’d do well. He had the particular gravitas that suits trial attorneys well. Didn’t hurt that he was a handsome-enough guy.
We sat at a table in a team room, and Kelley asked both Alex and I tons of questions. They were apt and on point, and I could tell that Miss Marquette wasn’t quite as interested as he was because she was playing with her phone. We chatted for about twenty minutes when he made an odd request.
“Can I ask what might be a personal question?”
“Sure,” Peter answered.
“Is your sister presently seeing anyone?”
That question almost knocked me onto the floor. I hadn’t even realized she wasn’t wearing her ring, but apparently he certainly had. I told him he’d have to ask her himself.
RIVER
The canoe I was navigating on my phone went over a waterfall because I was distracted by Kelley Jamil’s out-of-the-blue question.
I wasn’t sure what Mr. Waters thought about that. He didn’t tackle the guy, acting as her protective father-figure or brother, nor did he answer him. He told him he’d need to ask her, which to me, was as permissive as could be. Hell. The guy was smart as a whip, and rather good-looking, taking on many fine characteristics of his varied lineage. Even though he was probably five years younger than me, I’d have given it serious consideration if he were to ask me out and I weren’t already quite happily attached.
Peter suggested we rejoin the other two in the conference room. They’d been in there for an hour, and the front doors of the firm had already been locked for the evening.
We quietly re-entered. I noticed that Mari and Candace were facing each other in their rotating seats. Mari had her hands on Candace’s knees, and the latter had a tissue in her hand. Kelley sat in the other chair next to Candace. And yes, I saw him seriously checking her out. He looked very interested.
“I swear to you, Candy. Just keep looking forward. I was nineteen when the accident happened, and three years later, I was married. It is not the end of the world that you think it is.”
“How athletic were you when it happened?”