Chapter 26

McCoy turned around after taking a much-needed drink from the water fountain to find Barry Peck standing behind him.

“Hey, where did that assistant of yours run off to?” Peck asked. “You sure have a knack for choosing the hot ones.”

Giving him a look of disdain, McCoy responded curtly, “She received an urgent page while we were in judge’s chambers. She’s calling our office. You may have all the time in the world to file and appear for frivolous motions, Mr. Peck, but the rest of us aren’t so fortunate. We have other cases to prepare for. We wasted half a day arguing your pointless motions.”

Taking the rebuff as a compliment, Peck smiled broadly. “I always say, if you can’t beat them on point, dazzle them with bullsh...”

“Jack!” Southerlyn interrupted from down the hallway.

After shaking his head in annoyance at the pompous attorney, McCoy turned to meet Southerlyn as she hurried toward him.

“It was Branch who paged me,” she explained breathlessly as he reached her. “He just got word a couple of hours ago. They’ve moved up the time for Fisher’s execution.”

“What?!”

“The prison officials were worried about an altercation between the death penalty protestors and some of the parents of Fisher’s victims, particularly Mr. Larsen. It seems there have been rumors circulating about a press conference the parents were planning to give immediately following the execution, which would surely end in a confrontation. The officials contacted the families, our office, and Morgan; everyone agreed to the time change, even Fisher. It’s rescheduled for 1:00.”

McCoy checked his watch and swore. “That’s only an hour from now! I don’t know if I can make it in time!”

Following quickly behind as he took off for the stairs, Southerlyn offered, “You can use my car. I’ll take a cab back to the office.”

“I’ll catch the cab. It’ll be a lot quicker than hiking the two blocks to your car.” As he hit the bottom of the stairs and began striding across the marble floor toward the exit he added, “I need you to do me a favor. Call the 27^th and find out where Ed and Lennie are. Hopefully they’re closer to Sing Sing than I am. Tell them I need at least one of them to get out there as soon as humanly possible and stick close to Calea. We were supposed to go together but I’m sure she’s already on her way by now. With the attitude Larsen and some of the other parents he’s stirred up have displayed, she could be walking into a lion’s den.”

“I’ll send them,” she promised.

As they started down the steps, two at a time, he continued, “And call Calea’s office on the outside chance that she’s still waiting and tell her to meet me there, but to wait at check-in until I arrive.”

Southerlyn reached into her briefcase and pulled out her cell phone. “Here – take this. You can call her on the way and then I can call you once I get in touch with Ed and Lennie to let you know their status.”

Pocketing the phone with one hand, he waved down a cab with the other. “Tell them to hurry, Serena. I don’t want her up there alone.”

***McCoy drummed his fingers on the seat beside his leg, waiting impatiently for someone to answer his phone call. After having offered the cab driver a hundred dollar tip to get him to his destination in less than an hour, they were noisily careening through traffic, with flashing headlights and blaring horn.

“Law offices,” a familiar voice finally said into his ear.

“Melissa, this is Jack. Has Calea left yet?”

“Yes, she has. She tried to call you and waited as long as she could but your receptionist said you were tied up in court.”

“I just got out of Judge Solomon’s chambers and I’m on my way to Sing Sing now.”

“Thank goodness!” the receptionist exclaimed. “I tried to talk her out of going, especially when she couldn’t get in touch with you, but there was no stopping her.”

“Is there a way to get a message to her?”

“She left her pager here but I can try her cell phone. I can’t guarantee she’ll answer, though.”

“If she does, tell her to wait for me at the sign-in desk. I’m also sending either Ed Green or Lennie Briscoe out to wait with her. Tell her to watch for them.”

“I’ll do my best to get the message to her, Jack.”

“Thanks, Melissa.”

He had barely ended the call when the phone chimed in his hand.

“McCoy.”

“Jack, I got in touch with Ed,” Southerlyn reported. “He’s about thirty minutes away from the prison. That’s not much closer than you but he promised to track down Calea and stay with her.”

“Good. Hopefully I won’t be far behind.”

“Is there anything you need me to take care of for you at the office? Don’t you have an appointment with Garnett and his client this afternoon?”

“Yes, I do. If you want to try and handle it yourself, go ahead. Unless they can give you one hell of an explanation for what Garnett’s client did, we won’t go lower than fifteen years, though. If you don’t feel comfortable handling it alone, ask Arthur to sit in on the meeting with you. I’m sure he won’t mind. Or, you can cancel and reschedule for tomorrow afternoon. The decision is yours.”

“What if I simply push the appointment back for later in the day? Say around 5:00?”

“I’m not coming back in this afternoon,” he informed her. “I’m taking the rest of the day. Tell Arthur he can chew me out later if he has a problem with that. I’ll be in early tomorrow morning. Don’t forget about the meeting with Helen Brolin at 7 a.m.”

“I wish I could forget,” Southerlyn acknowledged. “I’m not looking forward to letting Raymond Harrelson walk away with not much more than a slap on the wrist for a homicide.”

“Neither am I but it can’t be helped. It’s Harrelson’s good fortune that the only witness to his crime had a weak heart.”

“And society’s bad fortune that the woman had a heart attack before testifying.” Southerlyn paused, unsure of what to say to someone about to witness an execution. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Jack. I hope the rest of your day goes more smoothly.”

“Thanks for your help, Serena. I appreciate it.”

Snapping the phone closed, he tucked it back into his pocket. Letting out a pent-up breath, he shifted on the seat and tried to force himself to relax. There was nothing more for him to do at that moment but wait – and dread what was to come.

***He walked quickly past the administrative offices of the prison, the tapping of his footsteps echoing in the deserted corridor. Although the cabbie had earned his tip, he knew he was only going to make it by the skin of his teeth. In addition to having to make his way through security, he had ducked two reporters and ten or so protestors outside the gate before entering the prison compound. He knew, though, that the number of interested parties would have swelled had the time for the execution proceeded as scheduled. But he still felt anxious after finding that Morgan had already checked in and entered the facility. He was sure the bigger threat to her would come from the interested parties inside.

He rounded a corner to find Green standing a few feet from a doorway several yards down the hall.

“Counselor,” Green greeted him as he approached. “It’s a good thing you sent me. A couple of the parents had Calea cornered and were ragging on her pretty good when I arrived. She was holding her own but seemed to appreciate the help.”

“Is she all right?”

“Shaky, but okay. She’s inside with everyone else. They’ve all settled in and things are finally quieting down. They should be starting any minute now.”

“Thanks, Detective, I owe you one,” he noted, heading quickly for the door. When he reached it, he realized Green hadn’t followed. Turning to give him a questioning look, he asked, “Are you coming in?”

Green shook his head and smiled. “I’m only here to keep the peace.”

McCoy nodded, wishing for at least the fiftieth time that he could also skip the whole event.

When he entered the room, he found himself standing to the side of three rows of low bleacher-style benches. He took a few steps toward the front, searching the packed room for Morgan. Between what he assumed were mostly parents and grandparents of the victims, he was sure there were at least twenty people crowded together, some talking in subdued voices while others waited in stoic silence. It took him a couple of moments to spot Morgan sitting against the far wall on the front row. Swearing to himself, he made his way toward her, wondering what had possessed her to choose to sit where she had.

He was only a few steps away from her before she noticed him. When she looked up he groaned inwardly, struck by the look of sheer terror in her eyes. And as he sat down he could clearly see that she was trembling. Focusing on the closed curtain in front of him, he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It took every ounce of self-control he could muster to not grab her by the arm and pull her from the room.

Finally stealing a furtive look to his right, Morgan’s hands caught his eye first. They were clenched tightly together in her lap, the knuckles white with the effort. Glancing up at her face, he could see that her eyes were focused straight ahead as if she didn’t trust herself to look at him. He shifted slightly on the bench, closing the already small gap between them, and leaned toward her.

“Give me your hand,” he whispered in the suddenly too quiet room.

Morgan remained as she was for a moment, then discreetly place her left hand on the bench between them. He slid his under it and interlaced his fingers with hers. Squeezing her shaking hand gently, he again fought the urge to drag her away.

“It isn’t too late to leave,” he whispered.

She shook her head slightly at the suggestion, just as the curtain before them slowly opened. McCoy heard her suck in a quiet, involuntary breath, along with several others in the room. Before them, Fisher lay strapped to a gurney, a tube already taped to each arm. After addressing Fisher, a man beyond the glass switched on the speaker and then left the room, leaving behind two prison officials standing beside the device that would deliver first anesthesia, then the fatal dose of potassium chloride into Fisher’s veins.

Raising his head as much as his restraints would allow, Fisher surveyed the attendees. Wetting his lips nervously, he said in a shaky voice, “I want to say that I’m sorry for the things I’ve done. I know it doesn’t mean much now but I want everyone to know that I’m … I really am sorry.” He lowered his head, his chest heaving, then turned it to the left and looked directly at Morgan.

McCoy clenched his teeth in anger when he realized Fisher’s eyes were locked with hers. At that moment he wished he were in control of the device set into the wall behind Fisher. He would gladly have pulled the switch to end once and for all the existence of the man in front of him and the hold he seemed to have on Morgan.

He suddenly became aware that Morgan’s breaths were becoming uneven. He glanced at her to find her lower lip pinched tightly between her teeth. As the two officials unlocked the small glass door covering the injection device, he leaned toward her and whispered, “Calea, I want you to close your eyes when I squeeze your hand and keep them closed until I squeeze it again.”

Focusing his attention on the two men standing in front of them, he watched closely, waiting for the crucial moment. When it came he squeezed Morgan’s hand, then stole a sideways glance at her. To his relief he saw her eyes flutter closed.

The only sound that could be heard was the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor attached to Fisher’s chest, piping through the intercom. Within only seconds it began to fluctuate, becoming more erratic, to finally be replaced by the high-pitched whine signaling cardiac arrest.

Beside him McCoy heard Morgan suck in a breath again. A quick glance revealed that her eyes were clenched tightly closed. It wasn’t until the curtain had been drawn before them that he squeezed her hand, letting her know it was safe to open them.

She opened her eyes slowly, staring blankly at the curtain. Behind them one voice from the crowd said a loud, “Amen,” while others could be heard crying quietly.

After a moment she turned to look at him with pleading eyes. Her voice matched the desperation in her eyes as she said shakily, “Get me out of here, Jack.”

Only too happy to oblige, McCoy stood and began to lead her to the door, dodging several people heading in the same direction but at a slower pace. As they emerged from the room and started down the hallway he realized that Morgan’s hand had begun to feel clammy. Glancing at her, he saw that she had grown even paler than before.

“Are you all right?”

She nodded silently without looking at him and without breaking her quick stride.

When they reached Green he fell into step beside them. “Is everything all right?”

McCoy nodded. “Thanks for waiting, Detective.”

The three walked quickly down the long corridor. But just before reaching the security gate and sign-out desk, Morgan abruptly pulled her hand from McCoy’s and ducked through a door marked “Women” without saying a word. Stopping in his tracks, McCoy could only stare as the door swung closed in his face.

With a sigh he moved a few feet ahead and leaned back against the wall.

“I didn’t want to say anything but she wasn’t looking too good,” Green noted as he joined him. “Why’d she come, anyway? Seems like an odd thing for the lawyer of a condemned man to do.”

“You think so too?” McCoy retorted. “I should’ve enlisted your help when I was trying to talk her out of it.”

“Did she give you a reason?”

With a hint of anger in his voice he replied, “Fisher asked her to. The bastard would’ve asked her to hold his hand if they had let him.”

“Well, his asking days are over now,” Green pointed out.

“None too soon, as far as I’m concerned,” McCoy muttered.

When a group of people began to approach moments later, Green indicated a man in the lead. “That’s one of the parents who had Calea cornered. I thought for a minute I might have to get physical with him. He didn’t want to back off, not even when I shoved my badge in his face.”

They watched in silence as the group passed, with the man eyeing Green warily.

“That’s Craig Larsen, the father of one of the slain girls,” McCoy informed him when they had passed. “I recognize him from a picture that accompanied a newspaper article about a month ago. I spoke with him over the phone a couple of times. I had a feeling he might be trouble.”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Green boasted with a grin.

As more people began to file past them on their way out of the facility, McCoy and Green stood guard outside the ladies’ room. But after quite a bit of time had passed McCoy began to pace anxiously.

“If she doesn’t come out soon, I’m going in after her,” he vowed, checking his watch.

“You think she’s all right? She did look a little green before she went in there.”

Shrugging, McCoy admitted, “I don’t know. It has been a long time.”

As they were speaking a woman who had come from the same direction as the others entered the ladies’ room. Several minutes later when she emerged, McCoy took a step toward her.

“Excuse me. Did you see a woman in there with long brown hair, wearing a dark blue dress?”

“Yes, I did,” the woman agreed. “She’s … indisposed at the moment. I asked her if she was all right and she said she was. I’m sure she’ll be out shortly.”

“Thanks,” McCoy nodded. When the woman had walked off he noted, “Maybe I should go in and see if there’s anything I can do.”

“You should probably give her a few more minutes,” Green advised. “She may not appreciate an audience right now.”

McCoy sighed and nodded. Glancing down the hallway at the last few stragglers he said, “You know, it isn’t really necessary for you to wait any longer. I’ll walk Calea out.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind sticking around if you think things might get ugly outside.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think there’s going to be any trouble. Changing the time averted a lot of the problem. We’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I’ll take off, then.”

McCoy held out his hand. “Thanks for dropping everything to come up here, Ed. I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Green smiled, gripping his hand firmly. “This is going to be my excuse for taking the rest of the day off.”

As Green continued toward the sign-out desk McCoy returned to his spot against the wall to wait, wondering if he should poke his head in the door to check on Morgan. He had consulted his watch and was about to begin pacing again when the door opened and she finally appeared.

“Are you all right?” he asked as he quickly moved to meet her.

“I’m fine,” she answered. “I’m sorry you had to wait so long.”

“That’s okay. I was worried, though. The woman who came out a little while ago said you were sick.”

As she began to walk toward the exit Morgan replied, “I’m all right, Jack. I just really need to get out of this place.”

***He sat back in the cab, keeping a close eye on Morgan as she stared out the window at the passing traffic. Her hand no longer felt clammy tucked inside his but it was still shaky. They had made it off the prison grounds without incident, although they had been inundated with questions from the waiting reporters whose numbers had doubled while they were inside. But Morgan hadn’t spoken a word in the almost forty-five minutes since they had walked out and he was beginning to worry. He had expected her to be upset. Without knowing what was going through her mind, though, his imagination was getting the best of him.

He squeezed her hand gently. “Hey.” When she turned to look at him he asked, “Are you okay?”

With a nod she replied, “You’ve already asked that, several times, and the answer is the same – I’m fine.”

He was sure she was lying but decided not to press the issue. “I was thinking we could go to my place. I’ll make dinner for us tonight.”

She shook her head. “I have to go to my office.”

Sitting back and studying her carefully he asked, “You aren’t planning to work, are you?”

“I have clients waiting. I didn’t expect my day to be interrupted like this.”

“Have Melissa reschedule them,” he suggested. Seeing the look of indecision in her eyes he asked, “How effective are you going to be? Are you really going to be able to keep your mind on your work?”

With a sigh she turned and looked out of the window again. After a several seconds she admitted, “I guess I can reschedule most of them. But I can’t get out of the meeting with Mr. Colton. I have to write up the addendum to his contract today. He wants to submit it to the leasing agent first thing in the morning.”

He regarded her unhappily. “What time is the appointment?”

“Four-thirty.”

“How long will it take?”

“Not long. Maybe thirty, forty-five minutes. I can take my laptop along to the site and save what I write to a disk for him to print out himself.”

Shaking his head he admonished, “I don’t want you driving, not while you’re upset. Will you at least take a cab, or better yet, let me go with you?”

“I have an hour before the meeting, Jack. I’ll be all right to drive by then. And the building where we’re meeting is on the way to my place. I’ll go straight home afterwards. There’s no need to be concerned.”

He frowned obstinately. “Will you at least promise me that you’ll take a cab if you still feel shaky when it’s time to leave?”

She nodded. “Yes, I will do that.”

“All right,” he agreed reluctantly. “I’ll go pick up my bike from the office and return Serena’s cell phone, then meet you at your place around 5:00.”

“I thought you wanted to go to yours.”

“I don’t want you driving any more than you absolutely have to,” he argued. “I’d prefer that you not drive at all. I certainly don’t want to see you come all the way over to my place when you finish with your appointment. I’ll feel better if we meet at yours.”

Growing quiet she regarded him for a moment. “Maybe we should skip dinner together tonight. It’s been a long day for both of us and, with everything that’s happened, I’m not going to be very good company anyway. I can’t say I’m feeling very social.”

He turned to face her more, pulling her hand closer to him. “And what will you do for the rest of the evening, Calea?” he asked quietly. “Relive what just happened in your mind, or go running until you’re too exhausted to think?”

Morgan looked away, avoiding his eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Look at me,” he commanded softly. When her eyes met his, he said, “I don’t care if you’re lousy company. I don’t expect you to entertain me. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. We don’t have to do anything at all. I just want to be with you.”

The look in Morgan’s eyes softened just before she lowered them to focus on her lap. “All right. I’ll meet you at 5:00.”

***“It’s funny how when nothing else sounds good, soup always hits the spot,” McCoy commented, pushing his empty bowl aside.

“That was a good idea for tonight,” Morgan agreed. “I’m glad you suggested it.”

“I’ve never had mushroom from scratch before. It was delicious.”

“Thanks.”

“What are the ones we bought that looked like little fans?”

“Those were oyster mushrooms.”

“And the brown ones?”

“Shitake.”

“I know the big ones were portabellas. I’ve had those before at a restaurant.”

Morgan nodded slightly before concentrating once more on her soup. Another long pause punctuated the conversation, one of several to engulf them that evening. McCoy found the silence troublesome and had tried hard to keep the conversation going. Morgan was anything but talkative, though, and seemed perfectly content with the quiet.

“Would you like to watch a movie?” he asked when she stacked her bowl inside his.

“I don’t know,” she replied dispiritedly.

“We could go for a walk,” he suggested, getting up to place the left-over pot of soup in the refrigerator.

“I don’t really feel like doing that, either,” she responded, depositing the empty bowls in the dishwasher.

When she turned around he stood in front of her and took her gently by the shoulders. “I know,” he said. “Why don’t we go sit out on the roof? The moon is almost full tonight.”

After contemplating for a moment she slowly nodded. “Okay.”

Pleased with himself, he gave her a smile. “I’ll get the chairs.”

***They had been sitting side by side on the roof for more than two hours, with Morgan wrapped in the quilt she had retrieved from her rocking chair. They had talked little, but somehow McCoy felt more at ease sitting in silence underneath the open sky.

“I can remember going camping with my best friend when I was around eight or nine,” he mused, gazing at the sky. “I couldn’t believe how many stars you could see at night away from the city. It’s a shame more kids can’t experience that. The light pollution takes a lot of the fun out of being out of doors at night here.”

Morgan was silent a moment before responding quietly, “When I was married Frank and I once stayed in a cabin in the Colorado Rockies. You could actually see the Milky Way. It was so beautiful. But nothing can compare to the night sky over Texas. I don’t know that you can see more stars than you can in other places but they look so much closer, like they’re just above the tops of the trees. I’ve never been anywhere else like it.”

“How does that song go?” he asked, frowning in concentration. “‘The stars at night, are big and bright, deep in the heart of Texas’?”

She looked at him curiously, a hint of a smile on her lips. “Where did you learn that? From Pee Wee’s Big Adventure?”

He grinned at her. “That was a classic movie, wasn’t it? I still crack up every time I hear the song ‘Tequila’.”

“It was funny,” she agreed.

The conversation lapsed once more into silence. After a while Morgan stood up and clutched the blanket tightly to her, then walked toward the edge of the roof. McCoy watched quietly as she stopped several yards from the edge and looked out at the city. He remained where he was for a few moments longer before getting up to join her.

He came to a stop slightly to the side and behind her.

“Did you ever wish you could fly, Jack?” she asked in a soft voice. “I don’t mean in an airplane, but like a bird, feeling the wind stream over your body. It has to be such an incredible sense of freedom.”

“I used to wonder about that as a kid,” he admitted.

“It was my second greatest wish when I was young, after wanting to be invisible.” She paused and then added sadly, “There are times when I still wish for both.”

He contemplated quietly for a moment, then placed one hand on her shoulder and pointed with the other to a spot in the distance. “That’s the Chrysler Building. And to the right of it is Met Life, just this side of the Empire State Building. If there were fewer buildings in the way you could probably see the Statue of Liberty from up here when it’s really clear.”

Morgan let out a long sigh, pulling the blanket tighter against the cool air.

He squeezed her shoulder slightly. “Eight million people, Calea. Some of them are going to sleep a little easier tonight because of what happened today. And tomorrow, the sun will come up and life will go on.”

She turned around to regard him intently.

“You have to put it behind you,” he advised gently. “What’s done is done. You can’t change the past. You can only use what you’ve learned from it to change the future.”

Morgan continued to study him, considering his words. After a moment she nodded slowly. “We should probably go back inside now.”

Once the chairs were put away and the door leading to the roof locked, Morgan made her way to the kitchen to settle at the bar with a bottle of water. McCoy poured himself another glass of tea and sat down across from her.

“Would you like to watch a movie now, or some television?” he asked.

“It’s kind of late,” she pointed out.

“It isn’t that late. We could squeeze in a quick show or two.”

“You have an early appointment in the morning,” she reminded him.

“I don’t need much sleep,” he acknowledged with a smile. Keeping his tone light he suggested, “You know, I could sleep on your sofa tonight, to keep you company.”

“You should go home, Jack,” she advised kindly. “It’s been an exhausting day. We could both use some sleep.”

He reached for her hand, covering it with his own. After hesitating for a moment he admitted, “I don’t want you to be alone tonight.”

Looking at him curiously she asked, “Why not?

“Because I’m worried about you,” he answered simply.

“Why? I’m fine, really.”

He shook his head. “No matter how many times you tell me that, I don’t believe it. Not after everything that’s happened.”

“I appreciate your concern but there’s no reason for it. I’m not going to go off the deep end if that’s what you’re worried about,” she assured him. Leaning toward him she added, “Look, what you said outside was right – life does go on. And I know I have to put this all behind me. But I need some time to myself to do that. I have to come to grips with what happened today, to put it into perspective and file it away. It isn’t something you can help me with. I have to find my own way.”

Looking into her eyes he finally nodded. “Okay. But promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

He stood up and pulled her to her feet with him. “Promise you’ll call if you need me, no matter what time it is. Even if it’s only to talk, I can be here within minutes. And I won’t mind a bit. In fact it would please me a great deal for you to ask.”

Morgan nodded solemnly. “I promise.”

Giving her a smile he said, “Then I’ll go home.” Strolling with her to the elevator he continued, “Maybe we can go out for dinner tomorrow night. I’ll take you someplace special.”

“Maybe,” she agreed. “My schedule is pretty full so it will have to be kind of late if we do. I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon and let you know how my day is going.”

“All right.” Stopping at the elevator he said, “Good-night, Calea, sleep well. And don’t forget your promise.”

“I won’t.” Looking up at him, her eyes sincere, she added, “Thanks for everything you did today, Jack. I don’t know if I would’ve gotten through it without you.”

“I was glad I could be there,” he acknowledged, stepping into the elevator.

“Good-night,” she said softly just before the door closed.

Chapter 27