THE LAW AND LADY JUSTICE

by Ana Leigh

  "I've stopped reading the newspaper, and I haven't turned my television on for a week."

  It must have been the night of the baseball game, Jess reflected. That must have been why Doug had been called away. Why hadn't he even mentioned it to her? They'd even argued over Bellemy in the past.

  As much as Jess enjoyed Bev's company, she couldn't wait to leave. The news of Bellemy's murder had shaken her up, and she was uncertain why it was so disturbing to her.

  She had to think it out clearly before she brought it up with Doug. He'd probably clam up more if he thought she was challenging him. Although, since he hadn't even mentioned it to her, he could hardly say less than he'd done already.

  As soon as they got inside her apartment, rather than reach for her, as she had expected him to do, Doug sat down in a chair.

  "Okay. So what's the problem now? I had the impression you were enjoying yourself or I would have brought you home sooner."

  Darn that sixth sense of his. How did he do it? "I didn't say there was a problem, Doug."

  He ignored her denial. "Vic say something you didn't like?"

  "Not at all. He couldn't have been nicer, and Bev is everything you led me to believe."

  "Guess that narrows it down to me. What did I do?"

  "Let's discuss it tomorrow. Right now I feel grimy. I'm going to take a shower. Are you staying or leaving?"

  He gave her a reflective look. "Sounds like you'd prefer I leave."

  "I didn't mean for it to sound like that. Of course you're welcome to stay."

  "I'm welcome to stay! Excuse me, I'm not too bright. What does that mean? I'm welcome to stay for a drink or for breakfast?"

  This was exactly what she'd been afraid would happen. Once again they were quarreling indirectly over Sam Bellemy.

  "Doug, why didn't you tell me Sam Bellemy had been murdered?"

  He looked at her as if she'd just sprouted fangs and horns. "Is that what this is all about?"

  "Why must you always answer a question with a question, Detective?"

  "Sorry, Your Honor. Why would I tell you any more about my cases then you'd tell me about yours?"

  "What do you think?"

  "Now who's answering a question with a question?"

  "Doug, please. Just tell me why you never mentioned it."

  "I thought we had agreed that we don't talk shop when we're together."

  "This is different. Bellemy was both our cases," she declared.

  "Gilbert's and Bellemy's murders have been the lead stories on television since Wednesday morning, and the newspapers are still carrying the stories on the front page. Why would I have to mention it to you?"

  She slumped in defeat. His point was too logical to argue. She just hadn't stayed abreast of the local news. "You're right. I'm sorry. Why are we arguing over Sam Bellemy again?"

  "You brought it up, Jess."

  "I guess I'm just tired." She smiled contritely. "And I need that shower. But that breakfast invitation still stands, Doug. So how about joining me in that shower?" It was obvious in the inflexible look in his eyes that they weren't connecting.

  "I have a better idea. Let's have sex right here and now, while we're both grimy and sweaty. Forget the shower and those immaculate silk sheets on your bed. How about it, Jess? Come down to my level and roll in the mud for a change."

  "I wouldn't hesitate if I believed that's what you really mean, but you're talking figuratively, aren't you? You believe you're not good enough for me. Oh, Doug…" Unable to control the urge to touch him, she went over to him and sat down on his lap. "Why do you do this to yourself? To us?" Jess tenderly traced the line of his stubborn jaw with her fingertips. "You have this fixation that I'm slumming. Don't you know me better than that by now? Our relationship's not a game to me. I enjoy your company."

  "Especially the sex."

  She didn't appreciate that comment, but she knew it was the basis for all his doubts. "I enjoy that, too. But sex aside, I enjoy just being with you, Doug. Why can't you believe that?"

  Jess tried to smile, but it was hard while looking into the suspicion and doubt she saw in his eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be an astute detective? You may know my body better than any man – and for the record, Doug, there's only been one other man – but you don't know my mind, or you wouldn't have these doubts."

  He cupped her buttocks in his hands and as she looked beseechingly into those mesmerizing blue eyes of his, Jess came to the revelation that in the short course of their relationship she had fallen in love with Doug McGuire. The how and why was confusing to her, but the reality was that it had happened.

  And the incredible exhilaration of that reality struggled with the hopelessness of it.

  "Dammit, I'm a sucker for that look." His hands moved up her back, drawing her closer. "I've never known a woman like you, Jess," Doug said in that husky tone of wonderment that often materialized in tender moments between them. "You scare the hell out of me, honey. There's so much about our being together that I don't understand. That scares me, too."

  "You're shattering my trust in you, Detective," Jess said lightly, to try and push back the tears that threatened to slide out. Please, God, don't let me break down like a sentimental fool. "I didn't think anything could scare you."

  "You do. You move effortlessly between our two worlds, Jess. You can fit into mine, but I don't belong in yours."

  "My world? If Dennis Wolcott is an example of my world, Doug, maybe neither of us belongs there."

  "It's not just Wolcott. That hundred-dollar perfume you wear scares me, real diamonds instead of rhinestones dangling from your ears scare me and those damn silk sheets scare the hell out of me."

  "Silk sheets? Oh, come on now, Doug," she scoffed.

  "Yeah, I'm afraid of dirtying the damn things."

  "Doug," she groaned. He was so incredibly vulnerable for a tough guy.

  She pressed her mouth against his neck and closed her eyes when she felt the strength of his arms tighten around her. Dare she tell him she loved him, or would that scare him even more? She no longer had any doubts about her feelings for him. She loved this man completely. Body and mind. Heart and soul. She loved him.

  Raising her head, she looked him squarely in the eyes. "Enough talk. It's time for action. So what's it going to be?" she asked, slipping her arms around his neck. "Down and dirty right here, or a shower and those silk sheets? It's your call, McGuire."

  Doug chuckled. "All right, lady, we'll go for the silk sheets. I guess with a little practice I could get used to them."

  "Take all the practice you need, Detective McGuire." She grinned seductively. "I'm told practice makes perfect." She kissed him in a long, slow, deliciously arousing kiss that left them needing more. Much more.

  Jess clung to him as he bolted to his feet. "I think we better hurry, Judge Jess, or it's gonna be too late for practice."

  * * *

  Doug had just begun to doze off when he thought he heard a door close in the living room. He opened his eyes. Jess was asleep beside him. He sat up and listened, but there was no further sound.

  Just the same, he decided to check it out. There had been a series of robberies in the area lately, and even though the building was secure, he wasn't taking any chances. Besides, he knew the sound of a door closing when he heard it. He got out of bed, pulled on his jeans and grabbed his gun.

  The center of the living room glowed in moonlight, but the corners were shrouded in darkness. Thick carpeting padded his footsteps as he slipped into the room. There was no sound except for the faint whir of the air conditioner. The sudden chime of a clock caused him to swing, gun in hand, in that direction.

  After several more seconds he tripped the wall switch and several lamps illuminated the room. He shut the bedroom door and thoroughly checked the living room. The door was firmly closed with the deadbolt in place, but the chain was dangling. He opened the door. The hallway was empty, not that he'd expected an intruder to be hanging around.

  T
he living room closet was empty except for a couple of winter coats, so he moved on into the dining room and then the kitchen and laundry room. After checking the broom closet, he did the same to the two closets in the den. Nothing appeared disturbed. The same was true of the guest bedroom and bathroom. He even looked under the bed.

  Satisfied, he returned to the living room and pressed the intercom. Charlie answered sleepily.

  "Charlie, this is McGuire. Anyone come in the last fifteen or twenty minutes?"

  "Not through the front. A couple on the second floor drove in about fifteen minutes ago."

  "Anything unusual about them?"

  "Whatta ya mean?"

  "Were they alone? Did they act normal?"

  "Sure. I followed them on camera to their door. Nothing unusual. What's wrong?"

  "Nothing, I guess. Thought I heard something earlier. You didn't doze off, did you?"

  "Hell no!"

  Yeah, right. "I guess I must have been dreaming. Go back to sleep, pal." Doug hung up.

  It was time for him to leave anyway, but for his own peace of mind he checked out every nook and cranny in the apartment again, including Jess's bedroom this time. Then he finished dressing and woke her.

  "I'm leaving, Angel Face."

  "Don't tell me you've been called away again."

  "No. I just think it's better if I go. Seeing my car parked in front two nights in a row might start your neighbors talking."

  "Hang the neighbors," she said.

  "When I leave, I want you to put the chain on the door."

  "Why?"

  "As long as you've got one, use it. There's been some robberies in this neighborhood." He didn't tell her about the noise or the fact he was edgy about her welfare since the murders.

  "This building's secure, Doug."

  "Honey, no building is secure if someone wants to get in badly enough."

  "Thanks for those comforting words, Detective." Despite her protests, he took her hand and pulled her out of bed. He gave her a long, hard kiss that was tempting enough to make him change his mind about leaving, but stepped out in the hallway and closed the door. Then he waited until he heard her slide the deadbolt and chain in place.

  Doug stopped at Charlie's desk.

  "I'm going downstairs and check out the garage before I leave."

  "What in hell's going on, McGuire?"

  "I heard a sound I didn't like. When that couple came home you said you followed them on camera. That means you weren't watching any of the other cameras, right?"

  "Yeah, I guess so."

  "Then someone on foot could have snuck in behind their car," Doug said. "Keep your eyes open, pal." He pressed the down button.

  The elevator opened below into a small lobby. It had an exterior exit door, a stairway, a door opening into the garage and another locked door that Doug assumed was Charlie's living quarters.

  There was no sign of a forced entry on the exit door, so Doug pulled his Glock and entered the garage. It was well lit. Jess's Park Avenue looked commonplace among the shiny Porsches, Cadillacs, Lincoln Continentals and Beamers parked there. He couldn't help grinning. His five-year-old Chevy Camera would look right at home. He tried the door handle on her car. It was locked and he moved on, keeping his gun pointed to the floor as he walked among the couple dozen parked cars. They all were locked and nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

  What appeared to be a storage closet was secured with a padlock, and the overhead door and access door were firmly secured. He went back to the lobby and left the building by the exit door. It opened into a garden and backyard lawn. He waved to the security camera and went out the door, walked around the building and climbed into his car. Then he glanced back at the building. Dammit! Something just didn't feel right to him.

  "To hell with what the neighbors think."

  He climbed out of his car and Charlie buzzed him in. "Back so soon?"

  "Just making sure my car wasn't stolen, pal."

  "Who'd want it, McGuire?" Charlie called out as the elevator door closed.

  Once upstairs, Doug rapped on Jessica's apartment. Within seconds she opened the door.

  "Do you always open the door in the middle of the night?"

  "Only to detectives who want to have sex with me," she said.

  "Then we both just got lucky." He stepped inside. "All kidding aside, Jess, I wish you'd be more careful about whom you open your door to."

  "Doug, I looked through the peephole and there you were – the man of my dreams. How come you came back? Did you forget something?"

  "Talked to Charlie for a few minutes, and decided to stay. Would you rather I leave?"

  "Yeah right," she said, in an imitation of him. She took his hand and led him into the bedroom. "Let's go to bed."

  * * *

  You came close to catching me, Detective. It was very careless of me to go to her apartment tonight, but I felt so lonely that I just wanted to see her. She always looks so peaceful when she's asleep. You're there too much. You're going to besmirch her reputation. At first I thought you were good for her, but now I see you're as harmful as the others who have hurt her.

  You just care about the sex – using her for your own gratification.

  I can't let you do that, Detective. Tonight was a close call. It won't be long before you figure it all out. I can't let you catch me. It would spoil everything.

  * * *

  Jess was a morning person and usually woke in good spirits. This morning was no exception. As soon as Doug left, she washed their coffee cups, and then dressed for work.

  When her car failed to start, she took the setback in stride, called her favorite garage, and left the car key with Charlie. Then she telephoned Liz, and her secretary picked her up.

  By the time Jess finished her morning cases, the mechanic had called and left word that they had to tow her car into the garage and rattled off several problems which were all Greek to Jess. The bottom line was that she'd be without transportation for a couple of days.

  Jess's good spirits plunged until Doug called. Just hearing his voice was beginning to have that effect on her. Upon hearing the news about her car, he said he'd pick her up at five and drive her home.

  * * *

  Chapter 11

  «^»

  Promptly at five o'clock Jess stepped outside into blazing hot sunshine just as Doug drove up. The man was always punctual. He leaned across the car seat and opened the door.

  "Hey, Judge, can I offer you a ride?"

  "Is that your best offer, Detective?" she asked, climbing in.

  "No, that's for the benefit of the press in case Ms. Matthews is lurking in the shadows with a zoom lens." He gave her a quick kiss and pulled out into traffic.

  After a long day in court, Doug looked so good to her. He'd taken off his suit jacket, loosened his tie, and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt. Of course he still wore the holster attached to his belt. Would she ever get used to seeing that gun strapped at his side?

  "How about going to my place?" he asked.

  "I thought you'd never ask, McGuire," Jess said, pleased. So the time had come to beard the lion in his den.

  Doug guarded his privacy tenaciously, so the invitation could not have been easy for him to make. All things being equal, the invitation to go home with him equated to inviting her home to meet his mother. And despite his appeal to women, she doubted he had exposed this privacy to many of his previous girlfriends.

  Like it or not, Doug McGuire, we're becoming committed.

  Jess smiled at the thought. She'd been independent for so long she'd forgotten how comforting it felt to have someone take over, make the decisions. And Doug was a takeover kind of guy, no matter how much he tried to please her. And strangely enough that contradiction pleased her, too.

  Jess settled back and relaxed, enjoying the soothing intimacy of the car: the nearness of Doug, the mellow strains of a jazz saxophone from the tape player and the comforting feel of cool air on the scorching hot
day.

  Her gaze shifted to his hands on the wheel. He had great hands with long, tanned fingers. The touch of them comforted even as they excited. She followed the line of his bronzed forearms dusted with dark hair to where it disappeared under rolled shirtsleeves.

  As if reading her thoughts, he reached over and wove his fingers through hers. "How come so quiet?"

  "Enjoying the moment," she said.

  Doug turned right on Wisconsin Avenue, passed Marquette University, and several blocks later pulled into the parking lot of a four-story, red-brick apartment building. The lobby was clean and well tended with mailboxes on each side. Doug paused to retrieve his mail consisting of several pieces of advertising that he immediately tossed into a trash can set in the corner.

  They climbed the stairs to the second floor. Three apartment doors lined each side of the hallway. Doug's apartment was at the rear on the right.

  There was no denying it was a bachelor's apartment, and the kindest thing she could think of was at least it was clean. An air conditioner in the living room window kept the three-room apartment adequately cooled. The decor bordered on monastic. Several strategically placed end tables and lamps, several shelves of books, and a mammoth entertainment unit that monopolized one wall were the only luxuries. The color scheme was monochromatic: beige carpeting, beige drapes, a beige couch and chair set and a beige-colored leather chair.

  Jess followed Doug into the kitchen. She wasn't surprised by what she saw. The kitchen held a small round table and two chairs. A Mr. Coffee machine and a microwave oven sat on the beige countertop.

  "What would you like to drink?" he asked.

  "A glass of wine if you have it."

  "Sorry. Seagrams or a Miller?"

  "I'll have the Miller. Just a glass, though."

  He poured her a glass of beer, and then gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Make yourself comfortable while I change."

  "That's supposed to be the woman's line, McGuire." She followed him into the bedroom.

  "I need a quick shower. I was in some real sleazy dumps today," he said.