Chapter 28

"No messages, Mr. McCoy, but there is someone waiting to see you," the receptionist informed him.

"Thanks," he said, passing her desk and making his way to the waiting area.

His face registered his surprise. "Good morning!"

Morgan stood up. "Good morning."

"Come to my office," he offered, leading the way.

Once inside, McCoy turned on the lights and closed the door behind them. "What brings you here this morning?" he asked, tossing his coat over the back of his chair.

Morgan took a seat on the sofa. "I thought I might tag along when you go to see Frank, if it's all right with you."

He sat on the edge of his desk, studying her carefully. "You've decided to talk with him?"

"Yes."

"What made you change your mind?"

She shrugged. "Several things. But mostly it was something you said about your mother."

"Something I said?"

"I decided I didn't want to wait until Frank was dead before I was at peace with him," she answered quietly.

He looked at the floor for a second. "So you believe he wants to apologize?"

"No, I don't, but it doesn't matter. I can say what I need to say, whatever his reason for wanting to see me." She pulled a paper out of her briefcase and handed it to him. "Before I speak with him, I do have one condition. He has to sign this statement."

McCoy scanned the paper and nodded. "This should satisfy the D.A. in Chicago as to your innocence. If Tyler will sign it, I'll fax it to Compton and he can pass it along." He handed it back. "I meant it when I said I'd stay in the room with you, Calea. No matter what Tyler says, it's your call."

"Thanks. I'll see how things go." Morgan tucked the paper back into her briefcase and stood up. "I'm sure you have things to do, so I'll wait down the hall until you're ready to go."

"You can wait here," he quickly assured her. "I was planning on leaving as soon as Abbie comes in. The only thing I was going to do in the mean time was figure out what to say to Tyler, and you've solved that problem for me." He gave her a half-smile.

"As long as you're sure I'm not disturbing you."

"You're not." He watched as she sat back down. "Did you manage to get some sleep last night?"

"Not really. But I did do a lot of thinking, which was probably for the best. I doubt if I would’ve come here this morning otherwise."

McCoy's mental image of her sitting in the rocking chair in front of the windows was lost when Carmichael knocked on his door. She opened it without waiting for an invitation.

"Good morning," she said, looking from one to the other. "I take we're all going out to Riker's."

McCoy nodded. "We were just waiting for you."

***The two D.A.'s watched Morgan pace across the small room again. After discussing plans for an evening run with Carmichael, she had been quiet for most of the drive. The closer they had gotten to their destination, the more withdrawn she had become. And McCoy was sure she was going to chew through the inside of her lip at any moment.

"You're making me dizzy," Carmichael complained.

She chose to ignore the disapproving look McCoy gave her as Morgan finally sat beside them at the conference table.

Morgan fidgeted nervously, picking at her nails. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she said half under her breath.

"It isn't too late to change your mind," McCoy offered quietly.

She looked into his eyes intently and seemed to consider his suggestion, then shook her head. "I have to go through with it."

The door behind them opened and Tyler was admitted to the room by a prison guard. Morgan sat up slightly and placed her hands in her lap. By the time Tyler had walked around the table to sit directly across from her, she appeared perfectly calm.

Tyler nodded a bit dismissively to McCoy. "Thank you for setting up this meeting."

"I didn't set up anything," McCoy assured him, settling back in his chair. "Your ex-wife is here of her own accord."

As Morgan pushed the paper she had taken from her briefcase across the table, she told him, "And the only way I stay is if you agree to sign this." She laid a pen in the middle of the table as he picked up the sheet.

Once he had read through the statement, Tyler laid it aside. "All right," he agreed.

After regarding him for a moment, she said pointedly, "I can wait outside if you need more time to look it over."

Tyler gave her an amused look and nodded. "I'll sign it now if I can then have a few minutes alone with you."

She answered casually, "Of course."

As Tyler picked up the pen and scribbled his signature on the bottom of the page, McCoy looked at Morgan. She hardly seemed like the same person who had been pacing the floor only moments before.

"There you go," Tyler announced cheerfully, handing the paper to Morgan.

She glanced briefly at the signature, then passed it to McCoy. "Would you and Abbie mind excusing us for a few minutes?"

McCoy looked into her eyes. "Are you sure?"

Morgan nodded. "I'm sure."

"We'll be right outside the door," he promised, directing the comment in Tyler's direction.

Tyler gave him a tight smile. "Thanks, Jack."

Carmichael passed through the door as the guard opened it for them. Once it had been shut again, she turned to McCoy.

"Yesterday you seemed to think this was a good idea. But before Tyler came in, you certainly didn't sound like you were encouraging Calea to stay."

He took a couple of steps and turned around, keeping a watchful eye on the room in front of them.

"After we talked last night, I'm not so sure this is the best thing for her to do."

"Why not?"

He glanced at her. "She told me a little of what her life with Tyler was like. She's still afraid of him."

"From reading the hospital report alone, I can understand why. But she seems to be handling him pretty well now. She did get him to sign the statement."

"I know," he agreed. "But this isn't as easy for her as she would have Tyler believe."

"Now that we have the statement, at least she won't have to worry about being dragged to Chicago by the D.A. there. I'm sure that's a relief," Carmichael observed.

"As soon as we get back to the office, I want to fax it to Compton. I'll call and ask him to see that it gets into the right hands."

Carmichael studied him for a moment. "I've asked Calea about her marriage several times and I've never gotten anywhere. How did you get her to talk about it?"

McCoy shrugged and smiled slightly. "First, I made her mad."

They talked quietly for a while and their attention wandered slightly from the two people sitting at the conference table, although McCoy occasionally checked to see that they were still engaged in civil conversation. Morgan's back was to the door but he could clearly see Tyler's face and he appeared calm enough.

It was the sudden explosion of activity from the prison guard who had let them out and another who had joined him that forced their focus back to the small room. As the guard hurriedly unlocked the door, they saw Tyler's angry expression and his hand gripping Morgan's forearm.

McCoy entered the room on the heels of the guards, just in time to hear Morgan's breath forced from her as Tyler jerked her forward and her ribs came into sharp contact with the edge of the table. His first reaction was to go after Tyler, but the guards were already pulling him back and prying his fingers from Morgan's arm. Amid shouts from Tyler directed at Morgan, and the guards' directed at Tyler, the noise was chaotic.

As soon as she was free, Morgan jumped up and took a half-step back, immediately colliding with McCoy. He reached to steady her but, without even turning to look, she stepped back toward the table.

"You don't control me anymore, Frank! And you can't intimidate me!"

"You will do as I told you!" Tyler shouted as the guards forced him from the room.

Morgan turned as they did, never taking her eyes off of Tyler. When he was finally out of sight, she let out a breath and closed her eyes for a second.

McCoy's heart was pounding. "Are you all right?"

She looked from his worried face to Carmichael's and nodded slowly. "I'm fine."

By that time, more personnel had arrived and entered the room. A prison administrator stood in front of Morgan.

"Are you sure you're not hurt?" he asked.

"I'm sure."

He took a step toward her. "One of our doctors can check you over if you like, to be certain."

Morgan backed away and then turned to retrieve her briefcase. "I said I'm fine."

"Tyler is scheduled to be transferred this afternoon. We can hold up the paperwork if you want to file charges," the man informed her.

"I don't," Morgan answered quickly.

"That's your choice, but there is an incident report that has to be filled out."

Morgan looked at McCoy. "I would really like to leave."

The official was adamant. "It's standard procedure in a case like this. The event has to be documented."

Noting Morgan's pleading expression, McCoy pulled a business card out of his pocket and handed it to the man. "Fax the form to me. I'll see to it that it gets filled out and returned."

Reluctantly, the man nodded and allowed the three attorneys to leave the room.

McCoy glanced at Morgan as they walked down the hallway. Her face was expressionless as she concentrated on the floor. He fought back his anger, thinking how satisfying it would be to have just one moment alone with Tyler and show him how it felt when the playing field was more even.

Carmichael's anger was more vocal. "It isn't right for Tyler to walk away again, without so much as a slap on the wrist. If he were any other prisoner and had attacked someone, he'd have extra time added to his sentence." Stopping at the door leading to the sign-out room, she turned to Morgan. "If you file charges, at least the Feds will know what kind of person they're dealing with. When it comes time for them to sentence him, it might influence their decision."

"I'm not filing charges," Morgan insisted. "I don't want to have to think about him, let alone answer a lot of questions about him."

"How many times are you going to let him get away with abusing you? He should suffer some consequences for his actions, Calea," Carmichael argued.

Morgan's voice was more forceful. "I'm not interested in punishing Frank. In a few hours he will be out of my life, and that's all I want. It's over, Abbie, so drop it."

McCoy silently watched the two women glare at each other, deciding it best to keep his opinion to himself. After a moment, Carmichael shook her head in exasperation and walked through to sign the log. When he and Morgan had also signed, and all three had returned their identification badges, they exited the building.

The trip back to the office was quiet. McCoy caught an occasional glimpse of Morgan in the rear-view mirror, leaning her head back against the seat and watching the traffic out of the window. He had noticed her hand shaking as she signed out and knew that, despite her assurances, she wasn't all right. All he could think about was how much he wanted to be alone with her so he could hold her close and comfort her. The drive seemed to take forever.

Once inside the parking garage underneath One Hogan Place, they started for the elevator. When the doors parted, McCoy said, "You go ahead, Abbie." He pulled the statement Tyler had signed from his briefcase and handed it to her. "Fax this to Compton and I'll call him in a few minutes after I see Calea out."

Carmichael nodded as she took the paper from him, then glanced at Morgan. "I'll see you later."

When the doors had closed again, McCoy turned to Morgan. "Do you want to take the stairs?"

"Sure."

As they walked, McCoy suggested, "Why don't you come up while I call Drew? Afterwards, I'll take you to an early lunch."

"Thanks for the invitation, but I need to go to my office. I have three appointments this afternoon."

He opened the door for her to enter the stairwell, then closed it behind him. He stood still, looking at her. "Despite what you say, I know how upsetting your encounter with Tyler was."

Morgan took a step toward the landing. "I told you, I'm fine."

McCoy reached out and gently took her by the arm, stopping her. "And I told you, you're a lousy liar." He took a step closer. "I just want you to know that I'm here for you."

Her eyes were serious as she looked up at him. "I do know that." She paused for a second, then asked quietly, "So are you going to walk me up or not?"

After a moment, he nodded slowly and followed as she turned and started up the steps.

"Did the officers bring you over this morning?" he asked.

"No, I took a cab. They're keeping an eye on my office. You can pull them off whenever you want. I really don't see any need for them to stick around."

"They can finish the day with you. I'll leave word that they can take off when you do this evening."

"All right," Morgan agreed.

When they reached street level, McCoy held the door and then followed her through. They walked out to the curb and he flagged down a cab.

Morgan turned to him. "Would you let me know if there's any problem with the statement after the Chicago D.A. has a chance to look it over?"

He opened the door for her. "I will. But I don't think there's anything to worry about. It's pretty straightforward."

Before getting in she said, "Thank you, Jack."

He gave her a smile. "You're welcome." Once she was inside, he closed the door and headed to his office.

***"Calea, it's Jack. I'm downstairs. Can I come up?"

Morgan hesitated for a second, then answered, "Sure. I'll send the elevator down."

He exited the main elevator and was halfway down the hall when he heard the door of the second one open. Quickening his pace, he made it in before the door closed.

When it opened, Morgan came from the kitchen to meet him, wearing jeans and a dark blue sweater.

"I hope you haven't eaten," he said.

"I put on some water for pasta just before you called."

He carried two white bags through the kitchen and placed them on the bar. "Well turn it off. I brought dinner."

"You really didn't need to do that." She turned the knob on the stove until it clicked off.

McCoy smiled. "You fed me last night so it's my turn." He began taking containers out of the bags. "I hope Chinese is okay. I called your office to ask, but Melissa said you had left."

Morgan carried plates and silverware to the bar. "I had her cancel my last two appointments and I took the rest of the afternoon."

He paused while taking out the last container and looked at her sharply. "You took an afternoon off?"

She rolled her eyes. "It isn't like it's the first time I've ever done so."

"It's the first time since I've met you," he noted, shaking his head in disbelief.

When she had made them each a glass of tea and they were sitting across from each other, he asked, "So what did you do with your afternoon?"

"Well, I ran laps for about an hour and a half."

"Abbie said you called and canceled your run with her. She was a little concerned."

Morgan shrugged. "I wanted to be alone. I'll go with her tomorrow." She took a sip of tea. "I also called Peter. I hadn't spoken to him for over a week and wanted to let him know what had happened."

"You haven't been keeping your client informed about his case?"

She looked down at her plate. "I was pretty angry with him after he came to see you. I sort of chewed him out and told him I didn't want to have anything to do with him for a while." She sighed. "Sometime during my run, I decided it was time to get over it."

He studied her for a second. "It wasn't easy for him to come to me, Calea. He only did it to help you."

"I know," she nodded. "I just don't take well to my privacy being invaded."

McCoy took a little more rice from a container. "You never told me how the two of you met."

"For good reason," she assured him. "Until you were convinced he didn't commit the crime he was charged with, if I had told you it could've hurt his case."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"Peter was one of my first clients. When he was sixteen, he and three other boys took a neighbor's car out for a little spin without permission from the owner. The man reported it stolen and the boys were picked up. Peter wasn't driving, but there was alcohol involved and they were all underage."

"Your client had a previous arrest?" McCoy asked. "Nothing showed up when we checked."

"It was eventually expunged. The parents of the other three did whatever it took to have the whole deal swept under the rug so their little angels wouldn't be punished at all. But Peter's dad didn't see things the same way. He thought Peter needed to face up to his responsibilities. Mr. Fairchild was a long-standing client of the firm's and came to us for help. So I represented Peter and he was sentenced to some community work, with his father's blessing. Once the sentence was served, part of the deal included removing the record."

He smiled slightly. "So you became friends with a juvenile delinquent?"

"Through the whole case, he never once complained. He carried out his sentence without one unpleasant word. Something about that impressed me. And since I was a gung-ho, newly appointed partner, I took a personal interest in him. I checked up on him and made sure he did what was necessary to fulfill his obligation. Somewhere along the way, we became friends."

He watched her take a bite of vegetables. He wasn't sure he should bring it up, but his curiosity finally won the debate. "Your ex-husband thought there was more between the two of you than just friendship."

After a quick glance at him, she looked down. "I know. We had several..." she shrugged and finished, "discussions about that." She took a drink and said quietly, "The truth is, Peter has always reminded me of my brother, I guess partly because he was the same age when I met him as my brother was when he died. But sometimes when he smiles, I swear, it's like looking at Travis."

McCoy was caught off guard by her admission and could think of nothing to say for a few seconds.

"Well the next time you call him, you can give him a piece of good news. I called Judge Rivera's office and set up a time to reconvene in order to have the charges dismissed. We have a court date next Monday at 11 A.M."

Morgan's face brightened. "That's great. I'll call him first thing in the morning. I know he'll be relieved to finally put all of this behind him."

When they had both eaten their fill, they began to clear the bar. As Morgan reached for the empty take-out bags, the sleeve of her sweater pulled up and McCoy caught a glimpse of finger marks on her arm just above her wrist. He felt an uncomfortable twinge in the pit of his stomach, but continued helping remove the dishes without commenting.

"Thank you for bringing dinner, Jack. And you remembered what I like."

He handed her their empty glasses. "You're welcome."

"Can I get you some more tea?"

"No, thanks. But if you don't mind, I think I will have a little of your Scotch."

"Help yourself." She put away the last of the dishes as McCoy poured a drink and settled back at the bar.

Morgan approached her barstool and sat down, regarding him a bit warily.

"So now that you've softened the blow with dinner, what's the bad news?" she asked quietly.

McCoy looked surprised then shook his head slowly. "There is no bad news."

Crossing her arms on the bar in front of her, Morgan said, "I thought maybe you were here to tell me the D.A. in Chicago is going ahead with the investigation despite the statement Frank signed."

"On the contrary. I spoke with Compton before I left the office and he said the other D.A. agreed there was nothing to investigate."

She leaned on her arms. "More good news? I'm not sure I remember how to react properly."

Her tone was light but McCoy stared into his drink, not sharing in her rather pointed humor.

"I know the last few weeks have been rough." He looked up. "I mainly came by to see how you were."

With a shrug she assured him, "I'm just fine."

McCoy reached across the bar, palm up. "Give me your hand." Morgan blinked in confusion and he repeated, "Give me your hand."

She hesitantly placed her hand in his. Holding it carefully, he reached with his other and started to push up the sleeve of her sweater. She immediately tried to pull back but he held it firmly. "Be still. I just want to look at it," he assured her gently. Once he had moved the sleeve out of the way, he turned her arm slowly, examining the bruises. He brushed his fingers over them softly but could see no sign that her arm was swelling. There were just five, distinct, reddish-purple marks on her skin.

"I feel somewhat responsible," he admitted remorsefully.

Morgan pulled her hand from his and tucked it into her lap with the other. "Why?"

"I talked you into seeing him."

"If you will remember, when you left here last night I had decided against going. I changed my mind on my own without any help from you."

"I should've stayed in the room with you. Drew Compton warned me not to leave you alone with Tyler. And I was supposed to have you call him so he could tell you that. He was pretty unhappy with me when I told him what happened."

"I don't think Frank would've signed the statement if I hadn't agreed to speak with him alone. It was my decision. You aren't to blame for what happened," Morgan argued.

"What made him so angry? What did he want from you?"

She began to fidget, clearly uncomfortable. "I can't really talk about that. It was personal."

He sighed. "Well, I guess you were right about an apology not being the reason he wanted to see you."

Her eyes were sincere. "I don't regret my decision, Jack. It was something I had to do for my own peace of mind. Sort of a facing-my-greatest-fear thing. I had to prove to myself that he could no longer control me." She looked down. "And I had to prove he could no longer hurt me."

McCoy huffed out a breath and leaned toward her. "You have a very odd way of defining that word. That's the second time you've sat across from me with bruises and denied being hurt."

"I guess I always figure that if I'm still alive, it can't be that bad," she replied with a humorless smile.

He leaned an elbow on the bar and rubbed his forehead, trying in vain to understand the woman in front of him. After taking a sip of Scotch he asked, "How is your side where he pulled you into the table?"

"About the same as my arm." She gave him a warning look. "And don't even think about asking to see it."

A very slow smile spread across his face. "The thought hadn't occurred to me, but now that you mentioned it, maybe it isn't such a bad idea."

For a split second, he could've sworn he saw a sparkle of amusement in her eyes before she looked away. "As long as it doesn't interfere with my running, you won't hear me complain about a couple of bruises."

His eyes grew serious. "You always say your fine, even when you're not. I get the feeling you don't complain about much of anything, and sometimes I wish you would. Then I would know what to do to help."

Morgan's voice was quiet. "You've done nothing but help for the last few weeks. And don't think that just because I didn't necessarily welcome that help, I didn't notice. If it weren't for your efforts, I would probably no longer have a license to practice law. And nothing is more important to me than that."

"I wish I could've been of more help today, Calea. I knew how upset you were when we left Riker's. I wish I could've done something about it."

"Like all the other times with Frank, I got over it," she assured him.

McCoy shook his head. "Hearing you say that doesn't make me feel any better."

"I'd like to forget that today ever happened." With a sigh, she amended, "I'd like to forget my life with Frank ever happened. All I want now is to know he's gone."

"He is," McCoy nodded. "I called a friend of mine at the Justice Department before I came over and had him check. Tyler is already in Chicago in the custody of Federal agents."

Morgan stared into his eyes. "You promise?"

He smiled at her. "I promise."

She sat back thoughtfully. "Then it really is over."

"Yes, it is."

After a pause, she shook her head. "I don't know what to say except, thank you, for everything. I owe you more than I can ever repay."

Leaning toward her, McCoy said, "If I could see you smile the way you used to when we first met, I would consider that payment in full."

Morgan avoided his eyes. "I'll probably need some time on that."

He reached and covered her small hand with his. When she looked up, he agreed, "Fair enough. But I will be waiting." He picked up and finished his drink. "Right now, I think I should let you get some sleep." He carried his glass to the sink, then continued to the door, with Morgan following.

"So I'll see you on Monday," he said after pressing the elevator button.

"11:00."

He nodded. "In the mean time, if you need anything, even if it's only an ear, call me. This case may be over, but I hope we can still get together to talk."

As the door opened, Morgan slid her hands into her pockets. "I would think that after the last few weeks you would be looking forward to a nice, long break from me."

He took a step toward her and carefully reached to brush a few strands of hair from her forehead. "Nothing could be farther from the truth."

At her puzzled look, he turned and walked into the elevator. "Good night, Calea."

"Good night, Jack," she replied softly as the door bumped closed.

***"You are free to go, Mr. Fairchild. All charges against you have been withdrawn." Judge Rivera tapped his gavel. "This court is dismissed."

With a huge grin plastered on his face, Fairchild turned and hugged the woman standing next to him.

"I knew you would do it," he declared happily.

The courtroom behind them was almost empty, with the exception of three people standing in the row behind the defense table.

Fairchild's two children came eagerly around the rail. His daughter attached herself to his leg and his son smiled shyly at Morgan. She bent and picked him up.

"Are you ready for lunch, Gatlin?" she questioned.

He nodded enthusiastically. "I'm going to have ice cream."

Fairchild made his way past them and joined his wife. Turning back to Morgan he asked, "Are you coming?"

"In a minute," she answered. Giving the boy in her arms a quick kiss on the forehead, she said, "Go with your dad." After she put him down, he ran to catch up with his family.

Morgan watched him go, and when she turned and focused on McCoy, her expression was still soft and her eyes warm.

Although he knew her affection wasn't particularly aimed at him, he allowed himself to consider the possibility for a moment anyway. "It sounds like we're too late to ask you to lunch."

"I'm afraid so. I'm already committed." She picked her briefcase up from the table and walked out with the two other attorneys.

"Are we still on for tonight?" Carmichael asked her.

"Sure. Is 7:00 okay?"

"Sounds good."

Once they left the courtroom, Morgan stopped outside the door. "I know I've already said this, but I want to thank both of you again for all of your help. I don't know what I would've done without it."

"We're glad things worked out," Carmichael assured her.

"Even if we didn't get a conviction," McCoy agreed, his eyes teasing.

With a glance down the hallway where the Fairchilds were waiting, Morgan noted, "Well, I guess I'd better be going. Have a good afternoon."

"See you later, Calea," Carmichael said.

She nodded and gave them both a smile, then turned around. Gatlin had run the short distance and met her after she had taken only a few steps. He reached up and took her briefcase from her, carrying it awkwardly with two hands.

"Thank you, sir," Morgan said with a smile as they continued down the hallway.