Chapter 30
“Why are
we going to trial against this woman, anyway?” Branch asked, rounding his desk
and taking a seat. “I thought she confessed.”
“She
did,” McCoy agreed, dropping onto the sofa across from him. “And she’s willing
to suffer whatever consequences we impose. But her family has other ideas. They
feel that since she’s mentally ill she should walk. They’ve hired a lawyer and
are insisting only on probation with mandatory psychiatric care.”
“Maybe that
should be enough,” Southerlyn offered, sitting down beside McCoy. “Is she
really going to be a further threat to society with proper medication and
monitoring?”
“It
doesn’t matter,” McCoy argued. “If for no other reason than as a deterrent to
the next person, she needs to face some consequences for her actions.”
“But you
know her doctor is partly responsible. You read the information his nurse gave
me. Dr. Schwartz assured Paula Howard that going off her medication would do
her no harm. How could she have known what the affects would be?”
“She
didn’t have to know,” Branch interjected. “Whatever her exact mental state, she
still knew that killing someone was wrong, even as she was stabbing Mrs. Ortiz.
She admitted as much to our shrink. That, to me, implies at least a certain
level of mental competency. She deserves some punishment, even if we decide to
go easy on her.”
“I just
think there should be some room for compassion in this particular case,”
Southerlyn noted.
“I’m not
saying there isn’t room for leniency, but I’ll save my compassion for Mrs.
Ortiz’ six grandchildren,” McCoy commented. “Her oldest was just about to
graduate from college, the first in their family to do so. Mrs. Ortiz was
addressing the invitations when she was attacked.”
“Not to change the subject, but when you said
‘invitations’ it reminded me of something,” Branch said as he began riffling
through papers. “I just received one to the local Bar Association’s recognition
get-together coming up in a couple of months. As much as I’d like to attend, I
have a previous engagement scheduled for that very night. I was wondering if I
could count on my E.A.D.A. to attend in my stead.”
McCoy
shook his head. “I’ve attended in the past and can think of a hundred better
ways to kill an evening.”
“It’s
important for someone from this office to put in an appearance,” Branch
insisted. “It’s our annual opportunity to remind those on the other side of the
courtroom that we’re human, just like them, and that technically we’re all on
the same team. Attending makes good business sense.”
Motioning
to Southerlyn, McCoy suggested, “Why not send Serena? It’s a good way to
introduce her to the world of public relations.”
“Although
she’s welcome to attend on her own invitation or as your guest, Serena isn’t my
lead prosecutor. In case you’ve forgotten, you’re the one with the extra letter
of the alphabet in the title printed on your business card,” Branch pointed out
cheerfully. “Besides, Executive Assistant District Attorney will sound so much
more impressive when you’re introduced.”
“Introduced?” McCoy responded warily.
“Did I
forget to mention that? I was asked to launch the whole shindig this year with
a few words and then introduce the master of ceremonies. I was sure you
wouldn’t mind filling in for me.”
McCoy
groaned and leaned his head back. “This just gets worse and worse!”
Branch
grinned broadly. “Pull your tux out of the mothballs, Jack. You’ll want to give
it plenty of time to air out.”
***“Look what the cat dragged in,” McCoy said by
way of greeting as he held open the front door of Morgan’s building.
“Are we
playing doorman today?”
“I have
to find some way of amusing myself while I wait,” he countered good-naturedly.
Giving Morgan a mock-stern look he added, “You’re late. And you know how much
it concerns me for the two of you to run in the dark.”
“I’m
sorry,” Morgan offered sincerely. “I got tied up at the office. Abbie was nice
enough to drive me home after our run or I would’ve been even later.”
“Well, I
suppose I can let it slide just this once,” he acquiesced teasingly. Taking
note of the fact that Carmichael was accompanying them to the elevator he
asked, “Have you finally given in and decided to join us for dinner tonight?”
“I
can’t,” Carmichael answered as the elevator opened. “I have other plans
tonight. I’m only coming up to borrow a book from Calea.”
McCoy
looked at Morgan questioningly. “Star Trek?”
Giving
him a warning look she replied, “No, not Star Trek. I do have other books, you
know.”
“Well, I
thought you might be trying to convert Abbie, here. I think she’d make a good
Trekkie, by the way.”
“You are
so full of it,” Carmichael maintained, shaking her head. Addressing Morgan she
asked, “Why do you even put up with him?”
“I often
ask myself the same thing,” Morgan acknowledged, eyeing McCoy in amusement.
“Some days more than others.”
McCoy
sidled closer to her and slipped his arm around her waist. “Come on, now, admit
it. You put up with me because of my matchless charm and intelligence, not to
mention my incredible sense of humor.”
Seeming
embarrassed by the small gesture of affection, Morgan nodded. “That must be
it.”
Once they
had emerged from the second elevator into Morgan’s apartment, she made her way
to the bookcase and pulled a paperback from one of the shelves. “There’s no
rush getting it back to me,” she informed Carmichael, handing it to her. “Keep
it as long as you like.”
“Thanks.”
Carmichael thumbed through the pages. “What? No dog-ears at the good parts?”
Giving
her a smile Morgan advised, “I guess you’ll just have to read the whole thing,
like I did.” Glancing at McCoy she added, “I’m going to go jump in the shower.
I’m sure Jack is starving by now. See you on Monday, Abbie.”
“Regular
time,” Carmichael reminded her.
“Would
you like something to drink?” McCoy asked as Morgan headed to the bathroom.
Turning
toward the kitchen Carmichael responded, “No, thanks.”
“How are
things in your neck of the woods?”
“Things
are great.”
“Working
on anything interesting?”
“Do you
remember hearing about the illegal aliens that died while being transported
across Texas in the back of a semi-truck a while back?”
“Yes, I
do. What was it? Nineteen that died? It was tragic.”
“Even
though the truck driver was convicted, he wasn’t the mastermind behind it. We
think we’ve found the ringleaders of the smuggling operation. A couple of them
are based here in New York, believe it or not. We’re almost ready to bust the
whole operation wide open.”
“Sounds
interesting. I hope you’re able to put the lot of them in prison.”
Watching
as he finished helping himself to tea from Morgan’s refrigerator, Carmichael
noted, “I don’t have to ask how things are going with you.”
“Oh? Why
is that?” he asked curiously.
She gave
him an affectionate smile. “Because it’s written all over your face. I can’t
remember ever seeing you so happy.”
McCoy
looked away sheepishly. “I guess things have been going pretty well for me
lately.”
“That
wouldn’t have something to do with a certain running partner of mine, would
it?”
“Maybe,”
he shrugged noncommittally, his eyes twinkling.
“‘Maybe’,” she repeated, rolling her eyes. “As if the rest of your life
was filled with nothing but roses and sunshine.”
He leaned
back against the counter and grinned. “Okay, okay – so you’ve got me. What’s
your point, anyway?”
Carmichael took the few steps that separated them and reached to give
him an unexpected hug. “My point is I couldn’t be happier for you.”
As she
stepped back, McCoy gave her a surprised smile. “Thanks, Abbie. I’m glad you
approve.”
“Oh, you
know I’ve approved from day one. I think it’s great that the two of you have
finally gotten together.”
“We
celebrated an anniversary of sorts last weekend. It’s been a year since I first
suggested to Calea that we begin spending time together.”
“Has it
been that long? Calea didn’t mention anything about that.” Placing her hands on
her hips she declared, “And I didn’t see her wearing any new jewelry, either.”
McCoy
shook his head and smiled. “She’s not quite to the jewelry stage, yet. I did
send flowers to her office but even that made her uncomfortable. She’s a little
shy about those kinds of things.” After a short pause he added more seriously,
“I’m trying to take the advice you gave me a long time ago, when we first found
out about her past. I’m taking things slow, trying not to overwhelm her. I want
her to feel comfortable in this relationship.”
Carmichael studied him briefly before saying quietly, “You’re good for
her, Jack. She needs someone like you.” Giving him a bright smile she added,
“And taking a wild guess, I’d say she’s good for you, too.”
He
shrugged again nonchalantly. “If you say so.”
With a
chuckle Carmichael headed for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the building
project. Tell Calea I might be a little late. I have an errand to run in the
morning.”
“I’ll
tell her,” he promised. “Have a good evening, Abbie.”
“You,
too,” Carmichael said as she stepped into the elevator. “Don’t stay out too
late. Both of you need to be well-rested for the job tomorrow.”
“Yes,
Mother,” McCoy said teasingly before the door closed.
***“Abbie said to tell you she might be a little
late in the morning,” McCoy informed Morgan from his usual spot at the bar as
she took a bottle of water from the refrigerator.
“It’s
going to take a while to get set up tomorrow anyway. She probably won’t miss
anything.” After taking a drink she asked, “Where are we going this evening?”
“How does
seafood sound? Someone at work recommended the Blue Water Grill. It’s supposed
to have a great jazz lounge. I called a few minutes ago and changed our
reservation from 7:00 to 8:00 since it looked like we might not make it in
time.”
“That
sounds good to me,” she agreed, leaning back against the cabinet across from
him. “One of my clients mentioned the same place.”
“While I
was making the call, I saw an invitation in your desk to the Bar Association
dinner that’s coming up. Are you planning to attend?”
“Yes, I
am. Our volunteer group is one of several being recognized. Rumor has it we may
even be up for an award from the city.”
“Good. We
can go together, then.”
Morgan’s
expression turned slightly wary. “Together?”
“Arthur was asked to say a few words and
introduce the master of ceremonies. He can’t make it and wants me to go in his
place. Although I’ve been trying to talk my way out of it for the past three
weeks, unfortunately, it looks like I’m stuck. At least it won’t be so bad now
that I know you’re going, too. It kind of slipped my mind or I would’ve already
asked you to go with me.”
She
turned around and topped off her bottle with filtered water from the tap. “I
appreciate the thought but I sort of already have plans.”
Giving
her a slightly surprised look he asked slowly, “You mean you’re going with
someone else?”
“No, of
course not. I was planning to attend alone. But I am meeting several others
from our group there. We’re all assigned to the same table.”
“We can
sit at your table instead of the one I’m assigned to. It doesn’t matter to me,”
he assured her.
“The
thing is, this isn’t going to be an entirely social occasion for me,” she
explained. “I’m hoping that some of those attending will have questions about
what our group does. I’m not looking at the occasion as a recruiting session
but it would be nice to get more people interested in joining us. It’s a worthy
cause and we can use all the help we can get.”
McCoy
studied her thoughtfully, taking note of the way her eyes avoided his and how
she seemed suddenly uncomfortable. “So what you’re saying is that you’d prefer
for me to sit across the room from you.”
Shaking
her head she said, “I just meant that I’m going to be really busy. The evening
is going to be more work than socializing.”
He gave
her a wounded look. “I see. I’m good enough to work alongside you and your
group when it comes to painting walls or carrying sheetrock, but when it comes
to sitting down to dinner I’d just be in your way.”
“I didn’t
say that,” Morgan quickly replied. “We’re both going to be there. I’m sure
we’ll see each other at some point. But you’ll have your obligations at this
event and I’ll have mine.”
Arching
his eyebrows he noted, “So the problem isn’t that I’d be in your way, it’s
that you don’t want to be seen with me.”
“Don’t
put words in my mouth, Jack. That isn’t what I’m saying at all.”
“It sure
sounds like it to me,” he insisted pointedly.
She shook
her head again. “Why are you taking everything I say so personally?”
“Because
I’m personally involved with you, Calea!” he declared. “And unlike you, I don’t
care who knows about it!”
“I never
said I was going to pretend I don’t know you. You’re taking the whole thing way
too seriously.”
“I’m not
supposed to take it seriously when the woman I’m involved with doesn’t want to
be seen with me? I didn’t know I was such an embarrassment to you,” he retorted
angrily.
“When
have I ever said I was embarrassed by you? That’s ridiculous!”
“Then
what is it? Are you afraid that being seen with a prosecutor will ruin your
reputation as a defense attorney?” he demanded. “There has to be some good
explanation as to why you don’t want to be seen with me in public!”
“We go
out together all the time. If I was concerned about being seen with you, it
would be a little too late to worry about that now,” Morgan pointed out with
annoyance. “You’re just being childish.”
McCoy
glared at her, his eyes intense. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to subject you
to any more of my childish behavior.” He got up and brushed past her to set his
glass in the sink, then headed to the elevator.
Morgan
took a few steps toward him as he punched the call button irately. “Jack…”
As he
stomped his shoes back on he added, “And I wouldn’t want to force you to spend
time with someone you’d rather not be seen with.”
Without
so much as a glance in her direction, he stepped through the opened door, then
pushed the ‘close’ button in order to separate himself from her more quickly.
***McCoy tossed his helmet onto the sofa before
picking up his ringing telephone. “Hello,” he answered simply.
“You’re
finally home,” a soft voice said.
“Yes, I
am,” he responded curtly. Although he had tried to shake his anger, he hadn’t
entirely succeeded and it showed plainly in his tone.
“I called
several times. I was beginning to be concerned.”
“I took
my bike out for a while. I just got back home,” he explained brusquely,
slumping into his favorite chair.
“Look,
Jack, I called to apologize for the way I acted earlier,” Morgan admitted
hesitantly.
“I’m
listening.”
She
sighed into the phone. “I didn’t mean to make you feel as though I don’t want
to be seen with you. When you suggested we go to the dinner together, you
caught me off guard and I reacted badly. It’s just that I’m having a difficult
time handling our relationship with only the two of us involved. Thinking about
complicating the situation by adding other people to the mix and having to deal
with their questions or comments scares me to death. And I’m not very
comfortable with social gatherings. I guess maybe I’m worried about saying or
doing something that will embarrass you.”
McCoy’s
tone and expression instantly softened. “Now who’s being ridiculous? That isn’t
even possible.”
“Well, I
was wrong to say the things I did. If the invitation is still open, I’d love to
go with you.”
“Since I
haven’t had time to dust off my little black book yet, I suppose it still is,”
he answered teasingly.
He
clearly heard a note of relief in her voice as she said, “Good. And we can sit
wherever you like – you decide.”
After
contemplating silently for a moment, he replied, “We’ll sit at your table. I’ve
met the other people in your group. I probably won’t know anyone at the table
I’m assigned to.”
“Several
members of our group have told me how much they enjoyed working with you when
you helped us out, so I’m sure they’ll be glad to have you join us.” She then
added, “If you haven’t eaten yet, would you like to meet somewhere and have
dinner? Or I could come by and pick you up.”
“I don’t
think so,” he responded, allowing a stern note back into his voice.
“So you
are still upset with me.”
“No,” he
answered slowly. “I just think you should suffer a little for the way you treated
me. I certainly don’t want to seem like a push-over.”
“But you
are a push-over. All men are,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“When it
comes to you, maybe I am,” he acknowledged. “But that doesn’t mean I want to seem like one.”
“There’s
a difference?” Morgan queried in amusement.
“A huge
difference,” he insisted. “One allows me to keep my ego intact.”
“Oh,
well, that’s all that really matters.” With a smile still in her voice she
asked, “Will you and your ego be sufficiently recovered to help us out tomorrow
morning?”
“I’ll be
there,” he assured her. “I’ll come by and pick you up at 9:00.”
“Okay.
See you then, Jack.”
“Good-night, Calea. Sweet dreams.”