"Thank you. It's one of my lawyerly stocks-in-trade." She gave a swift smile that lit up the attic. "It's even possible there might be fingerprints. I've read of forty-year-old prints being taken off objects that had a smooth surface and were protected from handling and the elements."
He whistled softly. "I wonder if Darrell deliberately chose a brown paper bag like the crime scene techs do?"
"Could be. Or maybe we just got lucky."
His gaze returned to the pistol. "Now that we've found it, what do we do with it?"
"We go to the governor. Sure, there's an election coming up, and he doesn't want to look soft on crime, but now that we've found the probable weapon, the media would tear him to shreds if he allowed an execution to go ahead without this being tested."
He straightened, swearing when he banged his head on the roof. "Makes sense, but how do we get his attention? Somehow I don't think we can just phone the governor's mansion in Annapolis."
"No, we phone someone who can call the governor's mansion." Her eyes gleamed. "Rachel's father, Judge Hamilton. He's politically well-connected and had a large hand in getting this governor elected. He'll know how to get through."
* * *
Julia Hamilton answered the phone, sounding more asleep than awake. "Julia, it's me, Val Covington," Val said quickly. "Is the judge there? This is literally a matter of life and death."
"Val, what on earth...?" Julia came more awake. "The Daniel Monroe case?"
"Exactly."
"Hang on a moment."
Muted voices could be heard, then Charles Hamilton's familiar baritone came on the line, husky with sleep. "This had better be good, Valentine."
"It is." She drew a deep breath. "We found the smoking gun."
* * *
Damn Val and Rob. They had said they would be here, and they weren't. Kendra needed to damn someone or something. Maybe it would relieve some of the anger and anguish that were consuming her as she moved restlessly around the viewing room that was separated from the execution chamber by a large window.
When she arrived at the penitentiary, she had to push through pro- and anti-capital punishment protesters, reporters and TV trucks, not to mention the merely curious. With all the publicity in the last week, there was a good turnout.
Becoming a witness to the execution wasn't easy. Reporters drew lots to attend, and family members of the victim could come. In this case, only one did, a tight-faced woman who was Malloy's sister. Val was allowed as Daniel's lawyer, and she'd managed to persuade the warden to admit Kendra and Rob as well. Except that Val and Rob weren't here. Probably screwed all night and overslept Even as she thought the words, Kendra didn't believe that, but she wanted to lash out at someone, and Val made a convenient target.
The half dozen reporters chatted easily among themselves, but the five civilians like Kendra were silent, sipping coffee and not meeting each other's gazes.
Where the hell were Val and Rob?
Quarter to eight. Not long now. Her gaze went to the gurney in the execution chamber, and she wondered if it was large enough for Daniel. It would be undignified for his feet to be hanging off the end.
She supposed it didn't matter, but her mind kept fastening on small details. Next to the gurney was some kind of cardiac monitor. Daniel would have already been checked by a doctor to see if he was healthy enough to die.
There was a collective inhalation from the witnesses. She turned to see Daniel escorted into the chamber. Show time.
Kendra went to the window and stared inside, trembling in every cell of her body. Maybe Daniel was right, and she shouldn't be here.
He looked dignified and remote, a man who was already halfway to a place where no one else could follow. She pressed a hand to her heart, agonizingly aware of their shared history. Joy and grief and injustice had bound them together forever.
Though he couldn't have heard her, he looked toward the window. Their gazes met, and gravely he inclined his head in farewell. Then he lay down on the gurney. After restraints were snapped in place, a technician started setting up the IV lines.
Tears obliterating her vision, Kendra retreated to the back of the viewing room, stumbling into someone in the process. Maybe it was time for her to go, because she didn't know if she could bear this.
She half fell into a chair and buried her face in her hands. Sing for me, Kendra.
How often had Daniel asked that? She could almost hear the words in her mind. Was he sending that thought to her? Shaking, she tried to think of a spiritual that suited the occasion.
"Swing Low, Sweet Chariot." Of course. She'd heard that the song was a secret way of talking about the Underground Railroad which carried slaves to freedom, but it was also a song about death. So softly that no one could hear, she intoned the words of her last song to Daniel. "Swing low, sweet chariot, / Comin' for to carry me home..."
She had reached the verse that said, "I looked over Jordan, and what did I see ? / Comin 'for to carry me home, /A band of angels comin' after me..." when a sudden chatter of excited voices pulled her from her dazed thoughts.
She looked up, disoriented, and saw that the reporters were pressed against the window of the execution chamber. Wanting to see, she stood on her chair to look over their heads and saw that the chamber was filling up with people. Daniel lay on the gurney.
Was he dead already? No, two guards were unfastening the restraints. When they were done, Daniel sat up, his expression stunned.
What was going on? She clasped her hands together and pressed them to her mouth, wanting to scream from tension.
The viewing room door opened and a forceful man in a dark suit entered. "Good morning, I'm Warden Brown. We've just received a phone call from the office of the governor granting a temporary stay of execution."
"Why?" several reporters asked in unison.
"New evidence." The warden hesitated, debating whether to say more. "The likely murder weapon has been found, and the governor feels that in the interests of justice, the execution of Daniel Monroe should be delayed until tests can be run."
As a babble of voices rose with the reporters asking more questions, Kendra dropped back into the chair, weeping prayers of thanks to God.
Daniel was alive, and all of a sudden she had a pretty good idea of what Val and Rob had been up to.
Chapter 33
By the time they returned to the church to meet Kendra, it was early afternoon and Val was dead on her feet. She had even asked Rob to drive her car because she was too tired to be safe. She had enough pride left to walk inside rather than let him carry her, but it was a near thing. Covering a yawn, she said, "How long will the ballistic and DNA tests take?"
"Several weeks, at least. Then the court will have to process the information, assuming the tests clear Daniel." He slung an arm around her shoulders and steered them toward the back door of the church. "I keep telling myself that the gun might have nothing to do with the Malloy murder, but I don't believe that. The pieces of the puzzle fit too well for this to be a red herring."
"Agreed." She yawned again. "I'm glad you were there to deal with all the cops and prosecutors. I would have collapsed under the strain."
"They weren't happy to have their thinking reoriented, especially the deputy state's attorney." He reached past her to open the door. "I thought Daniel was doomed when the governor turned out to be in Europe. Judge Hamilton is amazing."
"I told you he was well-connected, not to mention tenacious. If he hadn't been able to find the governor, I think he would have gone down to the penitentiary and stopped the execution himself. Wouldn't that have made a great story?"
"It's headline news even without the extra drama." Kendra swung through the door at the far end of the hall. "Val, you look like something the cat dragged through the fence."
Val didn't bother to check her appearance since she knew Kendra was right. Her clothes were smudged and wrinkled and her hair was living its own life, wild and free. "You, unfortunately, look terrifi
c."
"I had time to go home and freshen up after I left the Pen. Oh, Val..." Kendra's levity vanished into a heartfelt hug. "When I first asked you to look into Daniel's case, it was a shot in the dark. I never thought that a decorative little corporate shyster like you could make a difference."
Val laughed, thinking they'd never had such easy banter at the old office. They had gone far beyond being coworkers. Now they were truly friends. "If that's your real opinion of me, I'm not sure I want to know it."
"My real opinion is that you're a goddess."
"Rob gets the credit for his investigative work. I just shuffled papers."
"Okay, if you're not a goddess, he must be a god." Kendra turned to Rob and put her hands on his shoulders. She was close to his height, so when she kissed him with slow deliberation he reacted as if she had just injected caffeine into his veins.
When she ended the kiss, he gasped, "That was certainly an unexpected bonus, but better not do it again. I'm trying to convince Val that I'm worth keeping."
"'Bout time you two stopped smoldering at each other and made it legal," Kendra said with a grin. "I've been thinking that you two are starting to look like you belong together. Are congratulations in order?"
"Not yet, but I'll keep you posted."
He put an arm around each of the women and they ambled forward into the high-ceilinged reception area. Directly ahead of them hung Callie's tapestry of justice, the colors glowing in the afternoon sun. "I don't know about divinity, but have you two incredibly lovely ladies—"
"Magnificent women," Val said firmly as she plopped onto the sofa and pulled Rob down beside her.
"Kick-ass warrior sisters," Kendra suggested as she sat on his other side.
"Whatever." He kissed Val on the tip of her nose. "It was a team job. All of us were essential, and we got a lot of help along the way. Have you considered doing more wrongful conviction cases? There's no shortage of worthy subjects, I suspect."
"It's work worth doing." And worthy of an aspiring Quaker. During the course of Daniel's case, Val had worked herself to exhaustion and the emotional toll had been enormous.
Yet what had she ever done that was more satisfying or worthwhile? "I don't know if I'd want to do wrongful conviction exclusively. It's intense, and it doesn't earn the money needed to run the office. But yes, I would like to do more. I assume you'd do the investigating?"
He nodded. "I'll need to get a license if I'm going to do this seriously. We can also draft some of the volunteers who have been calling in order to take on more cases. Get some journalism students as well as lawyers and law students. As for the money—well, maybe you could get annual grants from the Brothers Foundation to help cover your overheads."
Rob's own foundation? "That would be... very appropriate," Val said softly. "Kendra, how are you at grant writing?"
"She doesn't have to be too good," Rob said with a grin. "I know someone at the foundation."
"As a matter of fact I've done some grant writing for my church and a couple of local community groups, and I'm darned good at it," Kendra said. "Though maybe the money situation will take care of itself, Val. Bill Costain called half an hour ago. I suspect that he wants to bring his work back here."
"That would be nice. I always liked working with Bill." She cocked her head to one side. "I've got an idea, too. Kendra, have you ever considered getting a law degree? The University of Baltimore has a part-time program."
"Girl, I've been taking courses part-time for years, and I haven't even finished my bachelor's! It would take ten years before I was qualified for the bar. I'd be fifty."
But Kendra wasn't saying that she disliked the idea, Val was interested to note. "How old will you be in ten years if you don't go to law school?"
Kendra opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. "Good point. Maybe I'll kick the idea around." Her eyes narrowed. "You are one mean little redhead."
Val chuckled. "I try."
Rob said, "When and if we get Daniel out of prison, I have an idea for him, too. Kendra, do you think he might like to work at the Fresh Air Center? Do some counseling, shoot some hoops, act as a kind of surrogate father. The place could use a mature man like him who's learned wisdom the hard way."
Kendra stared at him in awe. "That's brilliant. He doesn't have a lot of regular job skills, but he would be wonderful at mentoring fatherless kids. Suggest this the next time you visit. I think he'd love it."
Maybe helping other young boys would help make up for all the years he had missed with Jason, too. Val leaned tiredly against Rob's side. "Now that we've settled the future, can I go home and go to bed?"
"Good idea." Rob stood and lifted her against him so that she had to cling monkey style. "Any other loose ends can wait."
With a sigh, she let her head drop on his shoulder as he earned her out to the car. She had a loose end to take up with him, but like he said, it could wait.
Though not for long.
* * *
It was early evening when Val awoke in Rob's arms. They had come to his guest house because Malcolm needed to be fed and walked. Cats were much lower maintenance. By the time Rob had walked the dog, Val was dead to the world.
The slanting sunshine found blond streaks in his hair and sculpted his strong features. He looked good enough to eat. She filed the idea for later and gently touched the day-and-a-half of stubble that shadowed his jaw. Sexy.
His eyes opened, regarding her with such warmth that she had trouble remembering that the light color had once seemed icy cold. "Feel better?" he asked.
"Much." She rolled on her side, eliciting a small snort of protest from Malcolm down by her feet. "We'll need a king-size bed to accommodate us and all the critters."
"Are we at the stage of buying beds together," he asked with interest, "or was that a rhetorical comment?"
"Not rhetorical." She trailed her fingers through the soft hair on his bare chest. "I hope you don't entirely give up remodeling work. The results are so splendid."
"Glad you think so, but let's go back to the subject of beds. That had promise."
Promises... Her mouth dry, she said, "I'm still working on this marriage idea. Though I think my panic factor is down by at least a third, there's still quite a way to go. But there is one thing I've figured out."
He raised his brows encouragingly.
"I love you." The words were amazingly hard to get out. Love meant vulnerability, commitment, for better and for worse—all those scary things that she hadn't been able to accept, but was no longer sure she could live without. "It wasn't until meeting you that I even realized I didn't know what love is. Friendship, lust, broken hearts—I was pretty adept at those, but love, no. I still don't understand all the nuances, but there can't be a better teacher in the world than you."
"Love goes both ways, my Valentine," he said softly. "You are the light of my life, quite literally. You bring me joy I've never known, and didn't think I'd ever know." He wrapped his arms around her and rolled her on top of him. It wasn't just his chest that was bare, she discovered.
"You really want to get this conversation back to beds, I see," she laughed before bending into a kiss. Was she imagining the lightness she sensed in him? No, this was real. Their success at saving Daniel had freed him at the same time. Though grief and regret for his brother would always be part of him, he was no longer imprisoned by those emotions. They had both come a long, long way since meeting each other.
There were more journeys ahead. Thinking of the previous day, she said, "Were you raised in any particular religion?"
He shook his head. "As a kid I'd sometimes go to Sunday school at whatever church was closest because I wanted to know the things the other kids knew. It helped me blend in, but wasn't exactly a comprehensive religious education."
"As you know, I was raised Quaker." She crossed her arms on his chest and used them to cushion her chin. "I fell away from the meeting when I discovered boys and developed the urge to be a killer lawyer, but
the values are still a part of me. More so than I had realized for many years. Visiting the meeting house yesterday filled some missing holes in me."
He caught her gaze. "Is that why now you can say that you love me?"
She blinked. "Maybe so. I felt better for being there, and I'm going to start attending First Day meetings again. Would you be interested in coming with me?"
"I like what I've heard about Quakers. They seem like people of principle," he mused. "What do they believe?"
"There isn't a lot of specific doctrine. Everyone is encouraged to pray for guidance and follow their inner light. Friends are a community, not a hierarchy."
"I think I'd like that. Shall we attend a meeting this Sunday?"
"We call it First Day and yes, I'd love to take you. You'll fit right in." Her eyes drifted out of focus. "It takes enormous spiritual rigor and faith to become a good Quaker. I suspect that I'll be trying for the rest of my life and still not make the grade."
He grinned. "Yoda to the contrary, I think that trying counts for a lot."
"I hope so, because I'm never going to be the perfect woman." She wriggled her hips against his, loving the way his eyes darkened with desire. "But I'm beginning to think I can be good enough."
Epilogue
The day before Thanksgiving was cool and crystal clear, so beautiful that Kendra thought even the grim exterior of the penitentiary looked good.
It had taken only a few days to identify the fingerprints of Omar Benson and Darrell Long on the Walther PPK. The DNA tests that conclusively identified the specks of blood as James Malloy's had taken much longer, over two months. Once that was proved, the courts had ordered Daniel's release in less than a week.
Finally the hour had come. The inner circle of people waiting included Kendra and Jason, Val and Rob, Lyssie and Rob's friend Sha'wan, Luke and Angel Wilson. Resplendent in his uniform, Jason murmured, "I'm more tense now than when I was waiting to find out if I'd been accepted by the academy."
She tucked her hand in his elbow, grateful the Air Force had allowed him to come home for his father's release. "So am I, Jay. Hard to believe this day has finally come."
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