Body of Evidence

by Joan Elliott Pickart

  “Which will be addressed after the trial,” Jennifer said. “Except… Oh, dear.”

  “Oh, dear…what?”

  “Well, I promised you I’d go to the doctor and I did, but I also said it would be best if we didn’t discuss the baby until the trial was over and…”

  Evan sat down at the conference table and pointed to the chair opposite him.

  “Sit,” he said. “Tell me everything the doctor said. Why did you faint? People don’t faint for no reason. There has to be an explanation for it. What did he say was wrong with you that made you conk out like that?”

  “Whoa,” Jennifer said, raising one hand palm out. “Give me a chance to speak. The doctor said my blood pressure was a bit low but he’d keep an eye on it and it should straighten out once my body adjusts to being pregnant.

  “Low blood pressure is better than blood pressure that is too high. Get it? I should…hopefully…be finishing up my tour of duty with morning sickness and that will help settle things down. He said I was doing just fine.”

  “Fainting is not doing fine,” Evan said, shaking his head.

  “Fainting when you’re pregnant is doing fine. Are we going to argue about this?”

  “No. No, of course not. I was worried, that’s all. So, okay. You’re doing fine.”

  “Yes.” Jennifer paused. “Evan, there’s one other thing I need to tell you about my visit to the doctor today.”

  Evan sat bolt upward in the chair. “What? What else? What is it?”

  “I had an ultrasound and, oh, it was amazing. The printer wasn’t working so I didn’t get a picture to take home but…. Anyway, I thought you might like to know…well, maybe it doesn’t matter that much to you but…”

  “Damn it, Jennifer,” Evan interrupted, “cut to the chase. You’re scaring me to death here.”

  “Okay, okay.” Jennifer drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The baby…our baby…Evan, it’s a boy. I’m…you’re…we’re…going to have a…a son.”

  Evan got to his feet, opened his mouth to speak, then snapped it closed again when nothing came out. He plunked back onto the chair and leaned toward Jennifer.

  “A son?” he said, awe ringing in his voice. “It’s a boy? A…a son? Are you sure?”

  Jennifer laughed, the musical sound seeming to fill the room to overflowing.

  “Pictures don’t lie,” she said, still smiling. “The ultrasound was so clear it just took my breath away and, yes, believe me, it was very obvious that our baby has certain equipment, shall we say, that baby girls don’t have.

  “My doctor looked at the screen and said, ‘Well, hello, young man.’ I saw him, Evan. I saw his little heart beating and…” She laughed again. “Of course, I wept buckets, but I swear I’ll never forget that moment when I saw…” She flapped one hand in the air. “Don’t get me started.”

  Evan sank back in the chair. “A son. Whew. Add that to the stack of ‘I need time to adjust to this’ stuff. Are you disappointed? I mean, don’t women usually want a girl they dress in frilly, pink things, and put bows in their hair and on their socks and…”

  “Bows on their socks?”

  Evan shrugged. “I saw a little girl in a restaurant once who had bows on her socks. She was in a high-chair and kept lifting her feet so she could see those bows. Her mother finally took off her shoes and socks so the kid would eat some dinner.” He paused. “So, are you? Disappointed that it’s a boy?”

  “Not in a million years,” Jennifer said, smiling.

  Evan matched her smile and their gazes met across the table. The room seemed to disappear into a mist, leaving a private place where awareness was heightened and desire began to hum, gain force and heat within them. Jennifer was the first to break the sensuous spell.

  “The jury applications,” she said, tearing her gaze from Evan’s. “We need to get to work, Evan.”

  “What? Oh, right. Work. Yeah.” Evan got to his feet. “I’ll order a pizza first, then we’ll start tackling these things. You don’t have to do this, you know. I mean, if you’re rather go on home I’ll understand.”

  “Do you want me to leave?” she said, looking up at him.

  “No,” he said quietly. “No, Jenny, I don’t want you to leave.”

  “Then I’ll stay.”

  “Thank you.” Evan smiled. “Let’s see how much of an argument we can make out of what toppings we want on this pizza I’m going to order.”

  “You’re on,” Jennifer said, laughing.

  Four hours later Jennifer yawned, then stretched out on the sofa instead of being curled up in the corner of it with her shoes off.

  “I like that one,” she said. “The fact that she’s a single woman with no children is excellent. She won’t get caught up in the mental scenario that I did about Cecelia Gardner having lost one son and now here is the other on trial and blah, blah, blah.

  “Boy, I sure was wrong on that score. Cecelia isn’t a mother, she’s a walking, talking social machine.” Jennifer yawned again. “Anyway, I vote that you try to get that woman on the jury. I don’t think she’d declare Lyle innocent out of sympathy for Cecelia.”

  “Mmm.” Evan nodded, then wrote a note on the top of the paper.

  Rain beat against the windows with a frenzy, the thunder continued to roar and lightning followed closely behind each rumble.

  “That’s enough of this stuff for one night,” Evan said, rotating his neck. “These people on the applications are all starting to sound the same to me. I think we should… Jennifer?”

  Evan got to his feet and moved around the long table to stand next to the sofa where Jennifer had drifted off to sleep. She had shifted to her side, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, the other splayed on her sweatshirt-covered stomach.

  So beautiful, he thought, his heart quickening as he drank in the sight of her. In the future he might work late one night…not often, but occasionally…then come home and move quietly through their home so as not to waken her. Then he’d stand next to their bed and gaze at her, just as he was now. He could find a way, he could, to cut back on the long hours he worked. He could. He would.

  He’d shed his clothes and slip beneath the blankets and… No, no, wait a minute. He’d forgotten something. On the way to his and Jennifer’s bedroom, he would have stopped first in the nursery down the hall to check on their baby, their son, to watch the little miracle they had created together sleep the sleep of the innocent.

  An explosion of thunder jerked Evan from his thoughts. In the next instant the lightning lit up the room with an eerie glow, then the lights went out, cloaking the room and the city beyond the windows in inky darkness.

  Evan reached blindly for a chair, connected with one, then turned it around so he could sit next to the sofa. He settled onto it and stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles.

  He’d stay right here, he thought, in case Jennifer woke up and was momentarily frightened by the darkness. Oh, yes, he’d stay right here next to his sweet Jenny.

  Evan slouched lower in the chair so he could rest his head on the top and allowed himself the luxury of being aware of nothing but Jennifer.

  She’d been a tremendous help to him as he’d gone over the jury applications, he mused. Her input had been intelligent, and she’d often thought of details about the person that hadn’t occurred to him. He couldn’t think of even one woman he’d dated who was remotely interested in the inner workings of his career. He and Jennifer were good together, a team, like two pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly.

  Just as they would as wife and husband.

  Just as they would as mother and father.

  Just as they would…forever.

  “Ah, man,” Evan said wearily, dragging his hands down his face.

  He couldn’t go on like this.

  Once this trial was over he was going to sit down with Jennifer, start at the top of the list of issues they needed to address and hit them, one after another, until solutions were found and questions answ
ered.

  Yes, once he won this trial for Jennifer so her documentary would have the power and punch he knew she needed and wanted, he…

  Evan straightened in the chair, his mind racing and the sudden wild tempo of his heart echoing in his ears.

  What? he thought. Repeat that one, Stone. Once he won this trial for Jennifer? Not for the feather in his cap? Not for the very basics of justice being served? Not for the satisfaction of knowing that Lyle would pay the price for killing his brother?

  Those things were probably there somewhere in his beleaguered mind, but first and foremost was the deep and heartfelt desire to not disappoint Jennifer, not fall short in her eyes, or cause her problems with her project which her boss might decide to chuck altogether if it had a dud of an ending where the profiled D.A. lost the big case in question.

  Damn it, he had to get a conviction. He had to win…for Jennifer.

  His eyes having become adjusted to the darkness, Evan looked at Jennifer as she slept, a smile forming on his lips.

  For Jennifer, his mind echoed. And there it was. The truth. He was, indeed, deeply in love with Jennifer Anderson.

  How strange and complex was this thing called love. It brought to the fore aspects of himself he didn’t even know he possessed, a whole section of his inner being that had been hidden from him. It made him complete, whole, filled with awe, and a wondrous sense of excitement and joy that was intertwined somehow with a soothing warmth of peace, of knowing he’d journeyed far and had finally arrived where he was meant to be.

  Oh, he liked being in love with Jennifer. She brought out the best in him, made him put her first in importance, yet it somehow didn’t diminish his sense of self. The very thought of being the one to make her smile, laugh right out loud, be the cause of her incredible green eyes changing to a smoky hue of desire for him, him, made him feel ten feet tall.

  Evan leaned forward and gently brushed a silky strand of hair from Jennifer’s cheek.

  “I love you, sweet Jenny,” he whispered.

  And now there was more. She brought so much into his life and now there was more. A son. Their son. Their baby boy. He wanted to win this trial for his son, too, so that someday when he told his boy what had been going on when his parents fell in love, he’d be able to announce that he had won the trial in question and justice had been served.

  He had to win in that courtroom.

  For Jennifer.

  For their son.

  For himself.

  And when the trial was over he was going to tell Jennifer how he felt about her, ask her to marry him, and wait to see if he was to become the happiest man in the world, or one who was sliced and diced.

  Yes, a momentous question had been answered tonight…he was irrevocably in love with his sweet Jenny, but a great many questions remained.

  The lights suddenly came back on, startling Evan so much that he jumped to his feet and bumped the sofa. Jennifer’s eyes popped open.

  “What?” She struggled to sit up, then blinked and shook her head. “Did I fall asleep? Well, that’s mortifying. Big help I am.” She laughed. “I’m sorry, Evan. I feel like a three-year-old who needed a nap and just conked out.”

  “Which means you’re a very exhausted lady, who is calling it quits for today and heading home,” he said, extending one hand toward her. “Up. Out.” He glanced at the ceiling. “The storm is even cooperating, and it’s not raining so hard.”

  Jennifer placed one hand in Evan’s and allowed him to assist her to her feet. She made no effort to resist when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, nestling her to his rugged body.

  “Could I interest you in the last slice of cold pizza?” he said, his voice gritty.

  “No, thank you,” she said, her arms floating up to encircle his neck.

  “Well, how about the last couple of inches of your soda, which is now flat and warm?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “I can offer you about three or four hours more work examining jury applications?”

  “No, thank you,” she said, smiling. “I’m brain dead. They’d all sound the same at this point.”

  “Well, shucks and darn, ma’am,” he said, “I guess I don’t have one thing to give to you that you’d be interested in.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Mr. Stone,” she said, shifting to tiptoes and brushing her lips over his once, then twice, then gaining courage to do it one more time as she felt a tremor sweep through him. “I think you have exactly what I want and need right now.”

  “Oh?”

  “Kiss me, Evan,” she whispered.

  “I live to serve,” he said, then his mouth melted over hers.

  It was an explosion of senses. The kiss was as wild and intense and raging as out of control as the storm outside had been. The thunder of nature’s fury was now the pounding tempo of their hearts. The brilliant lightning was the razor-sharp awareness of the marvelous differences between a body soft and a body hard and muscled that made them perfect counterparts. The swirling, beating rain was transformed into churning, pulsing desire deep within them.

  But while the storm beyond the windows had been cold, what was consuming them was hot, burning flames that licked throughout them. The kiss intensified and breathing became labored as passions soared.

  Evan lifted his head a fraction of an inch and spoke close to Jennifer’s moist lips.

  “I want you so damn much,” he said, hardly recognizing the raspy tone of his own voice. “Ah, Jenny, you have no idea how much…”

  I love you, Evan’s mind hammered. No, this was not the time or place to declare his love for her. The Gardner trial possessed too much of them now. He wanted that done, finished, the slate wiped clean so he could concentrate totally on the future. A future he could only hope and pray would be spent with Jennifer.

  “I want you, too, Evan,” she said softly.

  “Jenny, I…” Evan started.

  “Yo, in the room,” a man yelled. “Cleaning service. Is anyone here?”

  Jennifer and Evan jerked apart, then each took a step backward. Jennifer fluffed her hair, Evan dragged a hand through his.

  “Yes,” Evan hollered, then cleared his throat. “We were working in here, but we’re finished for tonight. Come on in.”

  A man appeared in the doorway to the conference room, pulling a cart stacked with supplies.

  “Howdy, folks,” he said. “You public servant types sure do put in long hours.”

  “Your tax dollars at work,” Evan said, “but we’re gone. Please don’t disturb any of the papers on the table. It might look like chaos, but it’s organized chaos, believe it or not.”

  “Got it,” the man said, dragging the cart forward. “You must be getting ready for that Gardner trial, huh? Man, you can’t pick up a newspaper, or turn on the tube, without having it in front of your nose. It’s the topic at our dinner table at home every night, too. Guess folks are waiting to see if the rich folks in Chicago get to play by different rules than us poor slaving stiffs.”

  Evan frowned. “Really? There’s some question about that? Whether Lyle will get off because he comes from a wealthy, powerful family?”

  “Well, sure,” the man said.

  “If I don’t get a conviction,” Evan said, “won’t people realize that I just didn’t have enough evidence to convince the jury of Gardner’s guilt beyond a reasonable doubt?”

  “Doubt it,” the man said, shaking his head.

  “That’s absurd,” Jennifer said, planting her hands on her hips. “Wealth, power, whatever, will have nothing whatsoever to do with the outcome of this trial. Gracious, people have no idea how many long days this man…” she pointed at Evan, who was staring at her with wide eyes “…their district attorney, has put in to prepare his case against Lyle Gardner.

  “Well, guess what? When the documentary I’m working on about Evan Stone and his staff is aired on television, the citizens of Chicago and beyond are going to know the truth. The rich and fam
ous get no special favors when they have broken the law. No, sir. Never. Have you got that? If you don’t, then make sure you watch my film because…”

  “Um…Jennifer?” Evan interrupted, chuckling softly. “I think you’ve made your point.”

  “Oh, yes, ma’am,” the man said. “Whew. You sure do have a temper there, ma’am, when you get going. And I believe every word you said, by golly. I surely do. Mr. Stone, you’d better count your lucky stars this lady is on your side.”

  “Oh, I count those lucky stars every day,” Evan said, smiling at Jennifer.

  “I…I guess I got a little carried away,” Jennifer said, feeling a warm flush of embarrassment stain her cheeks. “I’m sorry. It’s just that… What I mean is…” She threw up her hands. “Never mind. I need some sleep.”

  And he needed to spend the rest of his life with this dynamite lady, Evan thought, his heart swelling with love for Jennifer.

  Chapter 6

  The next day was a study in frustration for Evan. Reporters were calling one after the next in response to Cecelia’s accusation that the governor, the mayor and District Attorney Evan Stone had concocted a conspiracy against her family because they feared the power the Gardners possessed. The three men had manufactured phony evidence against her deceased son Franklin, who was unable to defend himself, and were attempting to convict her remaining son Lyle of killing his own brother with a flimsy case that should be thrown out of court.

  Evan found it impossible to concentrate as the telephone rang constantly, knowing that Belinda was being harassed and growing weary of the “no comment” she repeated over and over again.

  Jennifer telephoned Evan to say that she and Sticks would be working very late at the studio. Her producer wanted her to thread the new development into her documentary to illustrate the level of pressure the D.A. was operating under.

  The next two days were more of the same, resulting in short tempers and frazzled nerves in the D.A.’s office, and the added frustration that both Jennifer and Evan felt, but didn’t voice, of being unable to see each other, not even during the work-packed weekend.