Chapter 27

"That's the second message I've left for Compton this morning," McCoy noted, pushing the phone aside. "He should've returned my call by now."

"Maybe no news is good news," Carmichael suggested. "I'm sure if Calea was wanted for questioning he would let us know."

He sighed impatiently. "I guess you're right."

They were interrupted by a familiar figure appearing at the door.

"Counselors," Briscoe greeted them. "I just got a call from the detective in Chicago who recognized the men from the composites I sent. He said he picked both men up yesterday and brought them to his precinct for questioning. He was preparing to call us and arrange to have them sent here but before he got the chance, without any explanation, his lieutenant told him not to bother. He checked a little later and the two guys were gone. He doesn't have any idea what happened to them and he couldn't get any answers from his lieutenant."

McCoy stared at him in dismay. "We needed them to establish a link between Tyler and the gun!"

"We questioned Latham again, for all the good it did. But if we had the guys who hired him, I think he'd talk." Briscoe sounded no less frustrated than McCoy.

"I want the name and number of the detective in Chicago. I'll talk to his superior and see if I can get some answers."

"It won't do you any good," Briscoe replied. "Lt. Van Buren already called was told he was out for the day."

"I wonder why the brick wall all of the sudden?" Carmichael asked. "Everyone was so cooperative before."

"If Compton would return my call, maybe we could get him to rattle some cages," McCoy said with obvious annoyance.

"Well, I'm supposed to meet Ed down the street at that little pizza place for lunch. If you two want to join us, we can take out our frustrations on a large pepperoni," Briscoe offered.

Carmichael exchanged a look with McCoy and he shrugged. "Sounds fine to me." He reached for his intercom as it sounded. "Yes?"

"Mr. Schiff would like to see you in his office, Mr. McCoy," the secretary informed him.

"Thanks," he acknowledged. As he started for the opposite door, he addressed Briscoe and Carmichael. "You two go ahead. I'll catch up with you if I can."

When he entered Schiff's office, the older man said, "Jack, these gentlemen would like to have a word with you." He motioned to the two men seated across from him. "This is Mr. Cullen and Mr. Davis." As each stood and shook McCoy's hand in turn, Schiff added, "They're from the Justice Department."

"What brings you here?" McCoy asked warily, taking a seat on the sofa.

"We'd like to speak with you about the case you have against Frank Tyler," Cullen stated.

McCoy was already beginning to dislike the conversation. "What about it?"

"This case came to our attention only yesterday," Cullen continued. "It seems a couple of men we've had under surveillance were picked up by a Detective Rosario in Chicago, with the intent of sending them to you."

"So you're responsible for hi-jacking my suspects," McCoy accused mildly.

"It was necessary," Davis assured him. "We couldn't allow them to be charged with some minor crime here."

"I hardly consider shooting and wounding one woman, threatening and running another off the road, and hiring someone to plant a gun used to commit a murder to be minor crimes," McCoy argued.

"Be that as it may," Cullen interrupted, "our interest is in more serious matters. We've been watching Seth Harrison for some time now. We know the people he's involved with, but until now we haven't been able to prove anything. The evidence your investigation into Frank Tyler's affairs has revealed is exactly what we need to do that."

McCoy glanced at Schiff, whose face was expressionless. "You're welcome to use anything we've found as soon as I connect Tyler to the gun that killed Evan Carpelli. He's facing a conspiracy to commit murder charge, and at this time that evidence is all the leverage I have against him. I'm hoping that once we link him to the gun, he will reveal the person who pulled the trigger. And if I had the two men you snatched from the Chicago police, I could make that connection."

Davis sat forward in his chair. "I think you're missing the big picture here, Mr. McCoy. We don't just want the evidence you've uncovered. We need Tyler, too."

Now McCoy was positive he didn't like the conversation. "Let me guess: You want him to help you get Harrison and, in exchange, he gets a couple of years in a country club and a new life in some sunny little place in the Florida Keys."

"We're trying to make a case against two of the biggest mob figures in Chicago," Cullen explained. "In order to do that we need Harrison. And to get Harrison, we need Tyler. Surely you can see how Tyler's value to us is more important than you convicting him of a conspiracy charge."

McCoy shook his head. "Actually, I don't. He's to at least some degree responsible for the death of a man. I think that takes precedence. I owe it to the people within this jurisdiction to do whatever it takes to convict him of that crime. You can use our information against Harrison; I want Tyler."

Davis looked at Schiff, then back to McCoy. "We're not exactly here to ask your permission. We met with Tyler and his attorney earlier. They're considering an offer we made. If it's accepted, we'll be taking him off your hands tomorrow afternoon."

Cullen stood up. "And given his options, he will accept our offer." He reached across Schiff's desk to shake his hand. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Schiff." Turning to see McCoy glaring at him, he simply nodded. "Mr. McCoy."

Davis shook Schiff's hand as well and followed his partner out of the office.

McCoy turned angrily to his boss. "You could've warned me I didn't stand a chance when I walked in here!"

Leaning back and folding his hands behind his head, Schiff regarded him. "Would you be this upset if it was someone other than Tyler?"

"This isn't exactly the first time I've fought to keep the Feds from usurping our authority."

"True," Schiff agreed. "But in this case, I think your argument has more to do with personal feelings than a sense of obligation to the people. Using Tyler to put a dent in organized crime is in the best interest of justice."

McCoy stood up and headed for the door. "I'll be sure and tell that to Evan Carpelli's relatives."

"It's out of your hands," Schiff reminded him. "The stack of files on your desk represents other cases that need your attention. You've spent enough time on this one. "

He stopped at the door. "If Tyler wants to make a deal, that's fine. But he isn’t going to ruin someone innocent along the way. My business with him isn't finished until he calls off the investigation of his ex-wife."

"You aren't responsible for that investigation. It's taking place in another city."

"Is that supposed to make it all right?"

"Let it go, Jack," Schiff warned. "If she's innocent, she'll be cleared."

McCoy shook his head. "Not if Frank Tyler has his way."

***His hands were folded on the table in front of him as he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing his eyes as he did. He consciously relaxed the muscles in his shoulders, letting the tension ease. As the door behind him opened he sat back in the chair.

Tyler regarded him cautiously as he sat down across the table. "I was a little surprised to hear you were waiting, Jack. You certainly didn't give me time to contact Parker."

"You won't need your attorney. I'm sure Mr. Cullen and Mr. Davis made you an offer you couldn't refuse, and I'm sure you've already decided to accept it. The reason I'm here has nothing to do with any of the charges against you."

With a confident smile, Tyler said, "Of course. This is about Calea."

McCoy nodded slowly. "You're going to walk away from all of this virtually without a scratch. It should be enough."

"It should be," he agreed.

After studying him for a moment, McCoy noted, "But it isn't."

Tyler shrugged. "I don't know. Why don't you tell me what you want and I'll tell you if I can help you."

"What I want is simple. Tell the Chicago D.A. the truth. Have him stop the investigation."

"I don't think I can do that."

Keeping his voice calm, McCoy asked, "Why not? She didn't purposely come after you. This all came about because someone tried to frame her client. And you would still be doing business as usual if they hadn't."

Shaking his head and smiling, Tyler admitted, "I know, but I just couldn't help myself. It was so poetic."

McCoy looked surprised as the meaning of Tyler's words dawned on him. "It was your idea. You're the one who had Fairchild set up."

"Ironic, isn't it? If Fairchild had hired any other attorney on the planet, it would've worked. My mistake was in assuming Calea wouldn't take the case."

"Why wouldn't she?"

"I thought she'd realize the conflict of interest. For an attorney to represent someone he or she has personal feelings for is usually a mistake."

He shook his head in confusion. "They're friends. And she felt she owed him because he helped her. I don't see the conflict."

"They're more than friends and always have been," Tyler insisted.

McCoy clearly heard the possessiveness in Tyler's voice. "I think you're wrong. But I also think you're determined to punish her anyway."

Tyler was quiet for a moment as he regarded McCoy. "And I think your reason for being here is personal."

"I'm here because it's my job to see that guilty people are prosecuted for their crimes and innocent people are protected."

"I believe there's more to it than that." When McCoy leaned forward to protest, Tyler held up his hand. "It's okay. I can understand. The truth is letting Calea out of my life was a mistake. I know why she left and I don't blame her. I'll be the first to admit I had problems. But I'm not the same person I was then. I've changed." He sighed with resignation. "My life, as I knew it, is over. And I need to take care of some things while I still have the opportunity. If you'll help me, I'll do what you've asked."

"Help you with what?" McCoy asked suspiciously.

"You were right when you said it should be enough that I'm walking away without paying my dues. But before I go, I want to talk to Calea, one on one. I need to set things straight between us. I owe her an apology at the very least." Tyler leaned forward and looked McCoy in the eye. "If you will convince her to meet with me before I leave tomorrow, I'll see to it that the investigation is stopped."

McCoy studied him carefully. He seemed sincere enough. "If you mean what you say, then why not just drop the allegations? I would think that would be apology enough."

Tyler shrugged. "There are things I need to say to her face to face. The investigation is all I have left to bargain with."

"I don't know if she'll agree to come," McCoy said slowly.

"I'm sure you can talk her into it," Tyler replied with a smile.

***"Mr. Compton returned your call, Mr. McCoy. He said he will be in his office most of this afternoon," the receptionist informed him, handing him several phone messages.

"Thanks Susan," he replied, continuing down the hallway. Instead of going to his office, he stopped at Carmichael’s.

She looked up as he entered. "You missed a good pizza."

He sat in the chair across from her desk. "I went to see Tyler."

"Adam told me about the visit from the Federal agents. I'm sorry we're not going to get our bite of him. It isn't right that he won't have to pay for all the things he's done. But then again, the law won't allow us to give the guy what he really deserves," Carmichael noted dryly. "Is he at least going to drop trying to implicate Calea?"

"I don't know." McCoy sighed. "He says he will if she sits down and talks with him. He wants to apologize to her."

"You're kidding. Do you believe him?"

"I'm not sure. He seems genuinely contrite." He shrugged. "I don't see that we really have a choice. Tomorrow afternoon he'll be gone. This is our last chance."

"I called Calea earlier. Since you relaxed the security, we made plans to go running late this afternoon. Do you want me to talk to her about it?"

Standing up, McCoy said, "I should be the one to discuss it with her. But first, I want to call Compton and see if he's accomplished anything at his office. If he's already convinced the other D.A. not to proceed, there may be no reason for concern."

***"Sorry I didn't get back to you this morning, Jack," Compton told him. "I was tied up hammering out plea agreements with Lockhardt, Ryan, and Greenberg. They all came out pretty good, considering. We took into account the fact that they've had no dealings with Tyler or Harrison since leaving the firm, and their work in the community. I think everyone walked away reasonably satisfied."

"I thought maybe the Federal agents who stopped by had something to do with your noncommunication," McCoy suggested.

"Well now that you mention it, I was strongly encouraged to keep my mouth shut until they had a chance to speak with you. I take it they did."

"They showed up this morning after they approached Tyler."

"I'm sure you were as thrilled as I was when they called my home yesterday and asked if they could meet with me. So what's the verdict?"

"I went to see Tyler this afternoon. He's going to take their offer."

"The S.O.B.," Compton complained. "He's still finding ways to avoid taking responsibility for his actions. Giving up his life here doesn't even come close to making up for all he's done."

"I agree with you, but there isn't much I can do about it," McCoy observed. "My concern now is with Calea. Have you been able to convince your office to drop the investigation?"

"I'm afraid not. Abbott is hell-bent on getting his pound of flesh. My boss convinced him to wait a couple of days until the Justice Department is out of the picture, but then he plans on proceeding. Calea didn't make many enemies while she was here but I guess one is all it takes."

McCoy swore softly. "I was afraid of that. Nothing about this case has been easy." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Tyler says he will tell your D.A. it's all a mistake if Calea agrees to meet with him."

"After what he did to her? Surely you told him it was out of the question!"

"No, as a matter of fact, I didn't," McCoy confessed. "He says he wants to set things straight and apologize to her before the Feds take him into custody tomorrow afternoon. If the only way to prevent her from being falsely charged is to have her sit down with him, then I think I have to present her with that option."

Compton's voice was angry. "You can't seriously be considering his request! After all the lies he's told? Tyler is obsessed with her, Jack. He will do anything and say anything to get at her. I think she's smart enough to realize that but, personally, I don't think you should even approach her with his proposal."

"What choice do I have? I can't stand idly by and allow her to give up everything she's worked for. If you can give me another alternative I'll gladly consider it. Otherwise, I don't see another way out."

"It's only Tyler's word against hers. Let the investigation proceed. Sooner or later Abbott has to come to the conclusion that Calea is telling the truth," Compton offered.

"It isn't only his word against hers. Tyler admitted he manufactured evidence four years ago to support his lie to the other three partners. If it's uncovered and Tyler doesn't confess it's false, she will lose."

Compton was quiet for a moment. "I can't believe he could get away with this. After everything he's already done to her, he's still not satisfied."

"I'm going to talk with her today. The decision will be hers."

"And if she doesn't agree?" Compton asked.

"Then I'll go back and try to persuade Tyler to do the right thing anyway."

"If she does agree to see him, you can't leave her alone with him, not even for a minute. You have to stay with them for the entire conversation."

McCoy considered his suggestion. "All of Tyler's visits are visually supervised. I assure you nothing can happen, but I do plan on remaining close by."

"That's not good enough. You cannot trust him. You know what he's capable of doing. All it would take is one minute alone for him to hurt her. I think you should consider having him handcuffed the whole time."

"I can't make any promises. I want Tyler to give me what I'm asking for. If Calea wants me in the room, I'll be there, no matter what he says. But otherwise, I'm going to have to play it by ear."

"Then do me a favor: Tell Calea to call me if she decides to meet with him. I'll convince her she needs you to stay."

"I'll give her the message. And whatever happens with Tyler tomorrow, I'll let you know."

***McCoy turned the collar of his coat up as he walked along the path through the townhouses. He had purposely waited to speak to Morgan until now. He knew how much she and Carmichael enjoyed running and depended on it to relieve their stress. Waiting until they were almost finished seemed like the right thing to do. He had also needed some time to decide exactly what he was going to say to her. Their last conversation had left him feeling more than a little frustrated with her.

The stone pathway ended at the edge of the grass-covered area in the middle of the townhome complex. It only took a second to spot the two women running to his right, heading away from him. As he walked straight ahead, he crossed two trails worn into the grass, one more distinct than the other. He continued a few feet more and stopped.

As the figures turned the corner at the far end of the park, the wind whisked their hair back. And as they turned the next corner and began coming toward him, there was not a doubt in his mind as to why the security guards allowed them free access to the restricted area. Despite Carmichael's slightly taller frame, the two ran gracefully together, matching each other stride for stride. The sight was compelling.

Carmichael was the first to spot him as they came closer. At a word from her, Morgan looked up as well. They continued on their paths until they neared, then cut through the grass to meet him. When they slowed to a walk, McCoy could see their breath, frosty in the cold air. But despite the cold, there was a sheen of sweat covering their faces and the sleeves of their sweatshirts were pushed up to their elbows.

"Are you looking for us?" Carmichael asked.

McCoy nodded. "I remembered you said the two of you were running today." He looked at Morgan as she dried her face on her sleeve. "I need to discuss something with you."

Carmichael trotted to a nearby tree and took two water bottles down off of a branch. She returned to hand one to Morgan and exchanged a look with McCoy.

"I guess I'll take off," she noted. "I'll talk with you tomorrow about the time we meet to run, Calea. See you in the morning, Jack."

"Thanks for meeting me, Abbie," Morgan called.

When Carmichael had jogged to the path and disappeared between the buildings, McCoy turned to Morgan.

"How did you get here?" he asked.

"Abbie picked me up. My car is supposed to be out of the shop this Friday. The officers are still watching my building and office but I didn't see the need for them to come along for our run, given the security here."

"I'll drive you home," he offered as they began walking toward the pathway.

"I meant to call you and thank you for letting me go back home this weekend. It's nice to sleep in my own bed again."

"The officers told me everything had been quiet so I thought it would be safe." He hesitated for a second. "After tomorrow, I'm pulling them off of your home and office. Everything should be fine."

Morgan glanced at him briefly, then continued watching the path. "Abbie was conspicuously silent on the subject of your case against Frank. I assume your coming here has something to do with that, and why I no longer need protection."

"It does," he agreed. Noticing a shiver he added, "But it can wait until I get you home."

***He stood at the windows with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Even with a cable knit sweater over his pale blue dress shirt he felt cold. Watching the low gray clouds and misty air hanging over the city didn't help.

Noise from the kitchen caught his attention and he turned to walk toward the bar.

Morgan slid a pan into the oven and put a pot on a burner before asking, "Would you like something to drink?"

"No thank you," he answered as he took the familiar stool facing her.

She sat across from him, tucking her hands under the knees of her dark yellow sweats and moving one foot nervously. Her wet, freshly washed hair made her eyes look bigger and, McCoy thought, more tired than he had noticed before.

He took a deep breath and wished he hadn't passed on her drink offer, if only to have something to do with his hands. Very aware of Morgan's expectant look, he decided to jump right in.

"Two men from the Justice Department came to see us today. They want Tyler to testify against Seth Harrison, and for Harrison to testify against his associates in turn. The case was taken out of my hands. The Federal agents are taking Tyler back to Chicago with them tomorrow afternoon."

He wasn't sure what he expected, but the reaction he got was definitely not it.

With a casual shrug, she said, "Okay. What about the other three?"

After a slightly confused pause, he explained, "I spoke with Drew Compton this afternoon. He said he took into consideration their good reputation in the community since they left the firm and has already worked out a plea agreement with each."

Morgan nodded. "Good. He kept his word." She chewed her lip for a second. "And the investigation into my involvement?"

McCoy leaned his crossed arms on the bar. "That's the main thing I came to talk with you about. Compton says the D.A. you had problems with still wants to go ahead with it. He's only waiting until the Feds are out of the way, which will probably be the day after tomorrow. If it was just your word against Tyler's, I don't think he would get anywhere. But when Abbie and I talked with him on Saturday, Tyler told us he made a note four years ago on the register of the check you were given as to his version of what the money was for. Lockhardt's secretary signed as a witness."

She looked at him in shocked disbelief and then slowly shook her head. "I don't know why I'm surprised. He was always looking for things to use against people and he's an expert at covering himself. In Frank's world you only do favors for someone if they have something on you."

"I went to see him today, Calea," McCoy said quietly. "He's offering you a way out. He will tell the D.A. in Chicago the truth if you will agree to meet with him."

With a quick frown she queried, "Why would he want to meet?"

"He says he wants to clear the air and apologize for the things he's done. After he testifies he’ll go into the witness protection program and leave the life he has now behind. He wants to set things straight while he still can."

Morgan slid off the chair and went to stir the contents of the pot on the stove. When she finished, she leaned back against the cabinet opposite McCoy.

"Do you believe him?" she asked.

"Whether I believe he's being sincere or not is immaterial. The decision to see him has to be yours." McCoy sighed. "But, in my opinion, I don't see that you have any choice."

She returned to sit on the barstool and studied her hands resting in her lap. "You're right," she finally said. "It is my decision." Looking up at him, she added slowly, "And I've decided not to see him."

At first, he thought he had heard incorrectly. But as she sat looking at him, he could see the determination in her eyes.

"I don't think you understand. If the investigation goes forward, the evidence Tyler manufactured will be discovered. It won't matter what you or the other three partners say. The D.A. will look at the evidence and the evidence is going to get you charged with conspiracy."

"I understand perfectly," she insisted. "But I still won't see Frank."

He sat forward. "Why not? I'll stay in the room while you talk with him if you want. It's your only shot at keeping your license."

"I don't believe he's being truthful with you and I don't care to hear anything he has to say to me."

"You agreed to speak with Michael Lockhardt. Why should this be any different?"

Morgan shrugged. "It just is."

He was trying to be patient, but was beginning to feel annoyed. "You were willing to risk your career to testify against Tyler in court, but you aren't willing to save your career by simply having a conversation with him? That doesn't make any sense."

"I'm sure it doesn't. But as you pointed out, it's my decision," she reminded him.

McCoy sat staring at her. He was thoroughly at a loss in understanding her attitude. And since none of his arguments seemed to be changing her mind, he decided to change tactics. He kept his voice calm, allowing only a small hint of the frustration he was feeling to come through. "It isn't easy for me to let Tyler go knowing he will receive little, if any, punishment for his crimes. And you have no idea how difficult it was to sit and talk with him in a civilized manner knowing what he had done to you, Calea. But I did it to help you. What Tyler is doing is wrong, but he will very likely get away with it. If there was another solution I would gladly take it, but this is the only way I can see for you to save what you've worked so hard to achieve."

She was thoughtful for a few seconds, and he was sure he had finally persuaded her.

"I appreciate what you're trying to do for me. But I told you from the start I was willing to take my chances with whatever charges were brought against me. I still feel the same way. I've given you my decision and, as far as I'm concerned, this discussion is over." She got up and returned to check the pot on the stove.

McCoy was completely taken aback at her unreasonableness. But rather than feeling angry, he mostly felt confused. In his eyes, her decision was completely illogical.

He watched as she turned off the burner under the pot and checked the pan in the oven. "You asked me if I thought Tyler was being truthful about his reasons for wanting to see you. Well, I do think he's being sincere. I think it's possible that he's finally realized his mistakes and wants to make amends. I’m not saying you should forgive and forget, but if letting him have his say gets us what we want, I think you should hear him out."

Morgan turned to face him. "I told you this discussion was over, Jack. If you can't accept that then I think you should leave."

McCoy's eyebrows shot up. "Well I don't think this discussion is over. And I don't plan on leaving until you give me a good reason why you won't do this small thing, considering the huge benefit to yourself."

She was only a few feet away but he could've seen the anger in her eyes if he had been across the room. "Fine," she snapped. She then turned on her heel and headed for the curtain dividing the room.

He huffed out a breath. He didn't have long to wonder at her behavior, though. She returned to the room only a few seconds later with her shoes already on and in the process of putting on a coat.

"Where are you going?" he demanded, standing up abruptly.

Morgan snatched her keys from counter. "I asked you to leave. Since you won't, I will."

His patience evaporated. He stalked to the elevator door as she pushed the call button. "I deserve an explanation for your refusal and you're not going anywhere until I get one!" He reached for her arm and pulled her around to face him.

The second he did, he saw fear leap into her eyes. It was almost enough to make him drop her arm and allow her to leave. But instead, he swallowed hard as he looked down at her. If he was going to prove to her that he was different, this was the time to do it.

And in that instant, the realization finally dawned on him.

"He's in a maximum security prison, Calea," he reminded her softly. "He can't hurt you."

"You don't understand," she accused. "Despite what Frank told you, he will never apologize to me because he doesn't think he did anything wrong. I don't know why he wants to see me, and I don't want to find out. And it doesn't matter if you're in the same room with us or that he's locked in a prison. The fact that he's in the same city is too much." As the words poured out, Morgan's eyes filled with tears but her voice only became angrier. "Since the day he showed up after court, wherever I go I look over my shoulder, expecting him to be there. I can't eat and I can't sleep. I wake up in the night thinking he's found a way to get in here. I can't listen to anything he has to say. It took me four years to get over being under his control and I won't go back. Nothing good can come from my talking with him," she finished, impatiently brushing her cheek where the tears had spilled down.

As she stood glaring at him, McCoy pulled her gently but firmly toward him. "Come here."

Her head bumped against his chest, but he barely had time to put his arms around her when she tried to push away.

Her voice was pleading. "You can't ask me to see him, Jack."

He tightened his arms. "Shhh. I know. I won't," he promised. "I'll try to find another way to convince him."

Morgan let out a quick breath and he felt her shoulders slump in relief. He put his cheek against her still damp hair. She felt small and fragile in his arms and, more than anything, he wanted to be able to make her feel safe.

He wasn't sure how long he held her, he only knew it wasn't long enough. She slipped her hand underneath his arm and wiped her face quickly with the cuff of her shirt. Then she slowly pushed back from him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so upset," she offered quietly.

"You had good reason," he assured her. "And I'm the one who needs to apologize. I allowed Tyler to convince me that his seeing you was the right thing to do for you. I shouldn't have tried to push you."

"I know you were only trying to help." Morgan took off her coat and hung it on the wall, then stepped out of her shoes and left them underneath. She glanced at McCoy as she turned toward the kitchen. "It doesn't take Frank long to figure out how to manipulate someone into doing as he wants."

She stopped and took the pan from the oven as McCoy walked back to the bar and sat down.

"I wish you had told me how his being here was affecting you."

Morgan took two bowls and two small plates from the cabinet and put them on the bar. "There wasn't anything you could’ve done about it." She handed one bowl and plate to him and turned around for silverware.

"If I had known, I wouldn't have eased the security yet. You could’ve stayed at the hotel."

She handed him a napkin and a spoon as she shrugged. "What I feel is irrational. It doesn't go away because the cops are near and it doesn't matter if I'm here or somewhere else."

As she began preparing two glasses of tea, McCoy looked down at the bar in front of him. She hadn't asked him to stay for dinner, she had just assumed that he would. And something about her assumption pleased him a great deal.

After setting the tea on the bar, she placed a trivet to one side.

"Can I help?" he asked.

"No, thanks. I can manage." She returned from the stove and placed the pot beside him, then went back for a basket of rolls.

Morgan dished them each a bowl of vegetable soup and handed the basket to McCoy.

"Thank you," he said. The soup smelled delicious and he found that he was hungry.

They ate in silence for a few minutes and McCoy tried to sort out in his mind what he wanted to say to her. It had never been easy for him to talk about his childhood, but it seemed like the right thing to do at that moment.

"You know, when you said I didn't understand you were only partly right," he started. "I know I can't completely understand how you feel because I've never experienced the things you have and never will. But I think I can sympathize better than most people."

"Because of the cases you’ve handled," she suggested.

"Not entirely. That's only part of the reason." He paused and took a deep breath. "I'm much more familiar with how my mother felt about being in that situation."

After studying him intently for a few seconds, Morgan laid down her spoon and put her hands in her lap. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Your father?"

McCoy nodded. "Even when I was young I knew what he was doing was wrong. But, like most kids, I felt powerless. No one ever challenged or questioned my father. It just wasn't done." He took a drink of tea. "I can remember coming to breakfast one morning when I was about eleven. My father had left for work early so he was already gone. I knew he had lit into my mother the night before. I was angry with him, and with her. I asked her why she let him do that to her. She told me my dad was a fine man and took very good care of us. I couldn't believe she could make excuses for him. As I got older, I couldn't understand why she stayed with him."

"Did she ever leave him?" Morgan asked quietly.

"No. He mellowed a bit as he got older. Even before all my siblings grew up and moved out, the physical abuse pretty much stopped. When he got cancer my mother took care of him at home until he finally had to go to the hospital. She stayed with him to the end and was right beside him when he died. It's still hard for me to understand how she could remain so loyal to a man who put her through hell for so many years. After he was gone, she had some rough times. They were married for close to fifty years so it took a while for her to get used to being on her own. But it was as if a weight had been lifted from her. She was a different person. A couple of years after his death, she told me she was finally at peace with him. I only wish it hadn't taken her so long to find it."

Morgan was quiet for a while. With a deep sigh, she finally admitted, "Sometimes I wonder how long I would've stayed with Frank if things had happened differently."

McCoy watched her as she sipped her tea, avoiding his eyes.

"How did you ever get involved with someone like that?" he asked gently.

"It wasn't always bad," she assured him. "We met my last year of law school when he taught a semester of criminal law. One day he asked me to stay after class. He wanted to know about my plans for after graduation and suggested we discuss it over dinner. He had something of a reputation around campus so I was reluctant. But he hinted he might have an offer for me. I knew the reputation of his firm, so I agreed. He was very attentive and very charming. At the end of the evening he asked if I would be interested in coming to work for him. By the end of the week, he had taken me to his office and introduced me to the other partners. Our relationship was strictly on a business level at first. A short time after I passed the bar and got my license, though, he made it clear he was interested in something more personal. I told him it was out of the question. I didn't want to be accused of sleeping my way to the top. He said he respected my feelings and never mentioned it again. But there were a lot of late nights and business dinners for the first year I worked with him, and we would talk for hours." Morgan paused and began to nervously turn her glass. "I've never been very good at talking about myself but Frank had a way of making me. He wanted to know everything about me, every detail of my past and everything I hoped to accomplish in the future. No one had ever shown that kind of interest before and it was very flattering. The day I accepted the offer of a partnership, he proposed. Even though we hadn't even officially dated, saying 'yes' seemed like the right thing to do at the time."

When she was quiet for a few moments, McCoy prompted, "What made him change?"

"I don't know that he ever changed. There were just aspects of his personality he didn't allow me to see right away. At first it was nice to have someone want to take care of me and seem so interested in everything I did. But he gradually became more and more controlling, and began to use all of those things I had confided in him at the beginning of our relationship against me. It eventually reached the point where he made me feel that he was obligated to punish me when I didn't do as he wanted or didn't meet his expectations in some way."

As she took a drink of tea, McCoy suggested, "My father's anger was often triggered by his drinking. Was it that way with Tyler?"

"Sometimes. I use to dread social functions. I was either too friendly or too shy. No matter what, there would be something he was unhappy about. I used to make myself sick to try to avoid having to go. But Frank knew I had a nervous stomach so he wouldn't allow me to use that as an excuse." She took another sip of her drink. "But there were normal times with us too. He would go for a week or two, sometimes as much as a month, without even a cross word. And he was always sorry after..." Morgan paused a second, then continued, "...afterwards. Unfortunately, his apologies always ended in 'but'. By the time he was finished, I was convinced I had been to at least some degree responsible for his actions, which he insisted were for my own good. I'd promise to try not to do whatever it was I had done and I'd stick around for the next time."

McCoy tried to cover his anger by taking a long drink of his own tea, wishing instead that he had asked for a Scotch. When he finally spoke, he didn't entirely succeed in keeping his feelings out of his voice.

"Given the fact that you had to get yourself to the hospital, it sounds like he forgot to apologize after the last time."

With a glance at him, Morgan quickly replied, "That was different. I not only did something that displeased him, but by speaking up about Harrison with the other partners, I openly defied him. I knew better. I told you before, things just got out of hand."

To McCoy it sounded as if she was making excuses for Tyler. It added considerably to his anger and he spoke without thinking. "So what exactly was it that constituted ‘getting out of hand’? Was it beating you, leaving you for dead, raping you, or a combination of all of the above?"

At her quick look, he wished he could reach out and stuff the words back into his mouth.

"Rape?" Morgan shrugged casually. "I was his wife. Saying, 'Not tonight, Dear,' was never an option."

He looked away, biting his lip. He wasn't sure which bothered him more, her words or the flippant way she had said them.

"I'm sorry," he offered quietly, turning back to look at her. "My comment was uncalled for."

With a sigh, she leaned her elbows on the bar and rubbed her temples. "Forget it," she said simply.

Mentally kicking himself, he searched for something to say. Noting her half-full soup bowl pushed to the side, he commented, "You didn't eat much."

Taking her bowl, she slid off the stool and picked up his empty one as well. "I wasn't very hungry."

He helped her clear the bar and put things away. When they were finished and Morgan turned around, he stood in front of her. Reaching out to brush her hair from her shoulder, he said, "Come home with me tonight." At her surprised look he added, "The last time you slept on my couch you said you got a good night's sleep. Getting out of here for a night would do you good. After tomorrow Tyler will be gone and you won't have to worry about him any more."

Her eyes were serious. "Thank you for the offer, but I don't think it would be a good idea."

McCoy shook his head. "You're my friend and I'm concerned about you. I think it would be a very good idea."

She took a step back, then went around him and walked back to sit at the bar. "I need to deal with this in my own way, Jack. I have to work things out alone."

He came to stand beside her. "You may choose to deal with it alone, Calea, but you don't have to. There are people who are willing to help if you would only let them."

"It's my problem and I will handle it myself," she insisted quietly. "And as you said, it's only one more night."

As he stood looking at her, he knew arguing was pointless. With a sigh, he noted, "I should go and let you get some rest." He turned and walked to the elevator, taking his coat down and folding it over his arm. "I'll let you know how things go."

Morgan nodded as she pushed the button on the wall. "Thanks." Looking up at him she added, "No matter what happens, I want you to know that I'm grateful for everything you've already done for me, and I appreciate what you're trying to do now."

McCoy touched her arm lightly. "I only hope it's enough. I'll call you tomorrow."