Ashley watched as Tasha followed him into the room and jumped onto his suitcase. He reached down and massaged behind her ears and under her chin. "She's just being sociable."
"I find it disgusting. Why, she's practically slobbering all over you."
He grinned. "Yes, she is, isn't she?"
"You insufferable egotist." She grabbed him around his neck, pulling herself up so that her mouth could meet his. She put all the endless longing she'd felt since he'd left three days before into her kiss. He was most cooperative in returning her offering. At last Ashley managed to pull away from him and rubbed her head under his chin. "I'm forced to admit that I admire her taste," she said with a defeated sigh.
Rafe had eaten on the plane, so they wasted no time in going to bed. As Rafe pulled her into his arms, he asked, "Should I call Raul and let him know I'm here?"
"I told him you would be. He seemed relieved." They lay there in contented silence for a moment; then Rafe whispered, "Are you going to sleep?" The soft words tickled her ear.
"Not very likely, with you lying next to me in 'that' condition," she pointed out as her hand gently touched him.
"I can't tell from that comment whether you're bragging or complaining." His tongue touched her ear, causing her to shiver.
She moved so that she was above him, her hair falling around her shoulders and brushing against his chest. She began to kiss him just under his jaw—soft little kisses that caused the surface of his skin to quiver. She moved down his chest, kissing first one nipple, which hardened as she lingered to stroke it with her tongue, then moving lazily across his broad chest to the other one.
Rafe's groan was music to her ears. Between her hair brushing against his sensitive skin and her mouth and tongue touching him with delicate skill, his body began to tremble. So much for bragging or complaining. Her tongue darted along his ribs, tracing them faithfully, then it paused for further exploration around his navel.
"Ashley!" Rafe's hands came up and encircled her waist. He lifted her so that her hips came down upon him in perfect symmetry. She could feel the tremor through him as their bodies and spirits intermingled in an embrace, forming a unity and a communion.
She began to move on him, accelerating the pace until both of them became caught up in the rhythm and flow of their lovemaking. His hands reached to restrain her abandoned movements, but it was too late—the force of their tempestuous pace swept them both far out from shore, and the frenzied and frantic feeling of moments before rolled and tossed them on sensuous waves, until they once again were washed up on the shore of fulfillment.
Both were damp from their loving exertions, and Ashley's hair clung to her brow and across one cheek. Rafe clutched her in his arms, reluctant to allow her to pull away from him in this moment of total sharing and undiminished joy. Never had she responded to him with such openness and abandonment.
Rafe could feel her heart fluttering like a bird captured and afraid. He began to soothe her over-heated body with his hand, easing down the length of her back and up over her derriere. Ashley had become the focal point of his existence—his love was almost frightening in its intensity. He drifted off to sleep, a smile hovering on his face.
When Rafe's eyes opened it was daylight, and Ashley stood by the bed watching him. He was startled to find her dressed and ready to leave. She bent over the bed and kissed him.
"I've got to go, love. There's coffee and fresh orange juice made." She smiled as she witnessed his bewilderment. "I need to get to the office early— there's so much to be done." She cocked her head. "You know, I rather like to see you asleep in my bed. It's seldom I'm ever awake before you," she added with an impish smile.
Turning to go, she paused. "The hearing starts at ten, so if I don't see you before"—she gave a half salute—"I'll see you in court."
Rafe looked at the clock by the bed. Seven-thirty. He hadn't heard the alarm or felt her stir—he'd been more tired than he realized. Maybe it had something to do with coming home to relax. He didn't sleep as well any more in his comfortable condominium in San Francisco, although he'd been quite pleased with all it had to offer until he met Ashley. She'd managed to ruin his sleeping habits as well as disturb the even tenor of his bachelor existence. She had a lot to answer for, that woman!
He felt a movement on the bed and watched Tasha as she picked her way across to the pillow Ashley had deserted.
"I'm sorry, Tash, ole girl, you'll never be able to take her place, but I suppose you can stay." The cat gave him a lazy stare, then sat down and proceeded to bathe. "You're not easily intimidated, are you?" His rhetorical question remained unanswered as he headed for the shower.
Around nine-thirty Ashley developed an unexpected case of nerves, a problem she'd overcome early in her career. But then this case wasn't typical. And she wasn't at all confident that she could win it. It would be bad enough to lose her job; to lose the hearing as well would be a double blow.
She was glad of the interruption when her secretary buzzed to say that Raul had arrived. As they walked to the courthouse he teased Ashley about Rafe using the hearing as an excuse to come back to see her.
"He doesn't need an excuse, you idiot," she said, laughing at the idea.
"He says he's afraid you'll get tired of him hanging around all the time if he visits too frequently." He shook his head. "I've never known Rafe to be as unsure of himself as he is with you. A lesser man would probably be intimidated."
"Now that I will never believe." She smiled up at the man walking alongside her. "You won't ever convince me that Rafe doesn't recognize his own worth."
They made their way through the echoing halls of the marble courthouse and entered the empty courtroom. Ashley wasn't surprised—they were a few minutes early.
The opposing counsel appeared and, nodding to Ashley, began to lay his papers out on the desk. She and Raul moved to the defense table and she began to arrange her papers for presentation. Neither attorney had requested a jury trial, and there were no visitors to the courtroom. Ashley kept glancing over her shoulder, watching for Rafe. He had not yet arrived when the bailiff stepped into the room from the judge's chambers and announced, "All rise as the Multnomah County Circuit Court is called to order, the Honorable Jed Downing presiding."
With no fanfare and in a steady voice, the plaintiff's attorney presented his client's case to the judge. The man knew what he was doing. He had constructed a tight case from circumstantial evidence. She had to convince the judge there were other, more reasonable ways to view the issue.
The plaintiff's attorney presented dates, figures, and diagrams that, according to him, proved the case against McCord Industries. Then he called several witnesses who were employees of the company. Ashley noted their restlessness on the stand and their uneasiness whenever they were forced to answer questions they were afraid were harmful to the company. With each witness she limited her cross-examination to how they felt about working at the plant. Did they feel it was safe? Did they consider the way in which waste materials were handled a hazard? She waited for Jackson to be called as a witness and was not disappointed.
Jackson appeared to be in his late forties. He was a tall, stoop-shouldered man with a receding hairline. He sat quietly in the witness chair, his eyes trained on the plaintiff's attorney.
When her turn came to cross-examine, Ashley took her time approaching the witness. After the opposing attorney had sat down, Jackson seemed to have trouble knowing what to do with his hands. His demeanor was similar to that of a penitent schoolboy having to face the principal.
At that point, Rafe entered the courtroom and slipped into the last row of visitors' chairs, but Ashley was unaware of his arrival. Rafe recognized Jackson, having seen him at the plant, but the man had aged considerably since then. A likable man, but at the moment he appeared ill at ease. Rafe didn't imagine anyone would feel comfortable on the witness stand, regardless of the person's guilt or innocence. He found the courtroom atmosphere stifling.
Ash
ley proceeded with her cross-examination as Rafe sat back to watch.
"Mr. Jackson." Ashley spoke in a low, clear voice. "You have stated that you were in charge of the production line at the time the spill in question took place, is that correct?"
His eyes flickered to the other attorney, then to her. "Yes." His answer was scarcely audible.
The judge leaned forward from his position above the witness. "You will have to speak up, Mr. Jackson, so that the court reporter can hear you." The judge gave the witness a reassuring smile.
Jackson cleared his throat and nodded. Raising his voice, he repeated: "Yes."
"Who besides yourself had authority to enter the area where the spill occurred, Mr. Jackson?"
He mumbled an answer.
The judge spoke once again. "Mr. Jackson, you must speak up. None of us can hear you." His voice was not quite as pleasant as it had been.
"The two floor supervisors."
"I see." Ashley paused, wondering how to get the next question answered without opposing counsel raising an objection.
"How well do you know Pete Wilson, Mr. Jackson?" She watched as the color faded from Jackson's face, leaving him parchment white. Whether he answered the question or not, she knew she had him!
"Objection, Your Honor. The question is irrelevant to the proceedings."
The judge eyed Ashley. "Does Pete Wilson have some connection to the spill being discussed, Ms. Allison?"
"It is my strong belief that he does, sir." The opposing counsel looked bewildered, and she knew the Department of Environmental Quality had no idea what was involved in the case.
"Objection overruled. The witness may answer the question," the judge stated.
Jackson looked ill; his skin had turned a pasty color. Perspiration dotted his forehead. He looked at the other attorney, then back to Ashley. With head bowed and shoulders slumped, he said, "I hardly know him at all."
"But he knew about your son, didn't he, Mr. Jackson?"
"Objection, Your Honor," came from the other attorney. "This is the most irregular line of questioning I've ever witnessed in a courtroom."
"Ms. Allison," the judge stated in a weary tone, "I hardly see that Mr. Jackson's son has anything to do with the matter presented for hearing today. What is your point?"
"My point, Your Honor, is that I believe Mr. Jackson knows more about the spill than he has admitted. I believe that he can explain why it happened and that his involvement is the result of pressure brought to bear on him. I believe Mr. Jackson's actions on the day of the spill are directly related to an attempt to protect his son."
The other attorney watched Ashley with amazement. When he could speak, he said, "Your Honor, I believe Ms. Allison is the victim of too much late-night television, sir. That has to be the most ridiculous plot anyone could have dreamed up. Creative, perhaps, but it has no place in a court of law."
The judge sat with bowed head for a moment, then nodded. "Continue with your cross-examination."
Ashley felt relief seeping through her system. One hurdle passed. Now, if she could get the answers she needed… She returned to the witness. "Mr. Jackson, is your twenty-five-year-old son presently employed?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"The Port of Portland."
"When your son filled out his job application at the Port of Portland, did he report his drug conviction on the application?"
Jackson paled. She knew he had tried to protect his son, but at the expense of McCord Industries. She felt sorry for him, but her feelings did not stop her from trying to get the information she needed. "No."
"If the Port knew about the false application, he'd lose his job, wouldn't he, Mr. Jackson?"
"Yes." Once again his answers were almost inaudible but, because of the silence in the courtroom, his words rang out clearly.
In a very gentle tone Ashley asked, "What did Pete Wilson say to you, Mr. Jackson, when he approached you about causing an accident in the plant?"
"Objection, Your Honor!" The opposing counsel's face glowed with anger. "Counsel is leading the witness. There is absolutely no evidence in this hearing that anyone approached anyone to cause the spill in question."
"Sustained. Please rephrase the question."
"What did Pete Wilson say to you when he first approached you, Mr. Jackson?"
"He said he knew my son had straightened himself out. He knew he was married and they were expecting a baby, and he was sure I wouldn't want to see him lose his new position."
"That was all?"
He looked at her with something like pity at her naive question.
"That was enough."
"What did you do to cause the spill, Mr. Jackson?"
In a trembling voice, Jackson told the court that he had slipped into the production area and wedged a piece of wood in one of the ducts that drained waste chemicals, knowing the flow would hit the wood and begin to splash over the drain. By the time anyone noticed, the chemicals were pouring onto the floor and draining away through the outside doorways. The spill succeeded in reaching the Sandy River, contaminating it; the incident was immediately reported to the Department of Environmental Quality.
"Did Mr. Wilson tell you why he wanted you to cause the spill?"
"No. I didn't ask."
"Thank you, Mr. Jackson." She looked at the judge. "No further questions, Your Honor."
The judge nodded. "The witness is excused."
The plaintiff's counsel approached the bench. "Your Honor, the Department of Environmental Quality does not use intimidation, blackmail, or other coercion to get evidence of the nature presented in this law suit." He paused and glanced at the defense table where Ashley and Raul sat, then back to the judge. "We have more reports of violations each day than we can possibly investigate. We are not out to persecute, Your Honor; we're here to protect."
He walked to his table, picked up some papers, and walked back to the bench. "The exhibit that has been entered into the record states on its face that McCord Industries has not met the standards set to contain and control contaminating waste products. I feel we have proven that today. No one has denied the spill in question. The contaminants that polluted the Sandy River destroyed fish, polluted the water supply of a rather large area, and caused injury to undetermined numbers of wildlife and game. As stated in my motion, I believe McCord Industries should be shut down immediately, and upon trial of this matter, we will prove that the plant constitutes a threat to its environmental surroundings and should be closed on a permanent basis." He moved to his table and sat down.
Ashley approached the bench. "Your Honor, I believe there has been enough testimony to show a preponderance of evidence that one violation of murky origin is not sufficient reason to warrant closing the McCord Industries plant, either on a temporary or on a permanent basis. We respectfully request that the motion be denied and the case dismissed." Ashley returned to her chair.
The judge spoke to the plaintiff's counsel. "Am I correct in assuming that you have no evidence that might support your allegations that McCord Industries is hazardous to the environment other than the one incident discussed today?"
"That's correct, sir."
"In that case I see no reason to prolong a decision on this matter. I find for the defendant. Case dismissed."
The judge stood as the baliff intoned, "All rise. The Multnomah County Circuit Court, the Honorable Jed Downing presiding, is dismissed."
Raul turned around and grabbed Ashley in a bear hug. "You did it! You cleared us! You were fantastic!"
Ashley blushed at Raul's affectionate enthusiasm but shared his relief that matters had turned out so well. Raul added, "I've got to call Jeanine and tell her the news. I'll talk to you later." She watched him rush down the aisle—and spotted Rafe. He was sitting in the back row next to the door, but Raul dashed by without noticing him. Ashley made quick work of placing papers back in her briefcase and hurried to Rafe, who stood up at her approach.
"I didn't see you co
me in, Rafe. I'm glad you made it. Did you see the whole hearing?"
Rafe's face masked his thoughts. "I came in just as Jackson took the stand." He paused, an inscrutable expression in his eyes. "Congratulations."
"Is something wrong, Rafe?"
"Wrong? Of course not. You won your case, and as far as I can judge, you did an excellent job." Ashley could not tell anything from his expression. Whatever he thought, she wasn't going to find out now. She took his arm and started out the door. "Do you want to get a bite to eat?" Ashley led the way to the stairway and started down the steps; Rafe kept pace with her.
"I can't. I have to call California as soon as I get back to the house. I had to cut a call short or I wouldn't have made it when I did." He stopped as they reached the sidewalk. "I'll see you when you get home."
Ashley found it difficult to respond in a natural voice. "Fine, I shouldn't be late." She watched him stride down the street as though eager to leave. Don't be silly, she admonished herself. Just because he didn't grab you and kiss you passionately the way he did at the airport, you think your marriage is failing!
She discovered that her instincts had been right when she arrived home. Rafe was waiting in the living room, his bag sitting near the door.
"I thought you weren't leaving until the morning?"
"I had to change my reservations. We've called an emergency meeting first thing tomorrow. I need to be there." He stood across the room from her, his body tense.
"It's more than a sudden business meeting, isn't it, Rafe?" she asked softly.
He looked at her as though he'd never seen her before, as though he was seeing a stranger who didn't impress him. Finally he answered, "Yes." He moved to the window and looked out, and she waited. A fluttering had begun in her stomach. "I've been thinking all afternoon about how slim the chances were that I'd ever see you in action, but the fact remains that I have."
"And?"
"And today, watching you excel in your profession, I realized that I don't even know the woman I married. It's quite possible that the woman I thought I married exists only in my imagination." He turned away from the window and moved back to her, studying her intently.
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