by Alana Lorens
His invitation was certainly an effort to make up for what he’d done, and she made a conscious decision to accept it in that spirit. Secretly she was glad he’d come to see her. She missed him. Not just the physical, though she found herself remembering the touch of his strong hands when she was achingly alone in her big bed at night. More than that, she missed the challenge of his conversation, the rapport they seemed to have. He was educated without being overbearing like some of her colleagues, with a strong sense of right and wrong, and a generous helping of care and concern. He wasn’t a “typical” cop, and he wasn’t a “typical” man in her view. He deserved another chance.
Her hope was that he could read her as well as she believed he could, and that he’d realize the children were off-limits. For now.
In the meantime, Suzanne and Nick could continue to explore the feelings they held for each other.
Besides, despite most people’s idea of the so-called glamorous life of a big-city attorney, in reality, it had been a year, at least, since she’d attended a fancy party like this. She wasn’t fussy about frills in her everyday appearance, but she liked getting all dressed up as much as any other girl. She’d had the slinky black dress for several years—that standard cocktail-party standby, but a few pieces of thick gold jewelry from a shop on the South Side, and a sweet updo of her hair made it seem new again. It might not be Maddie Morgan’s expensive suit, but it felt a little like armor.
Preparing to face a room full of police and government officials, she felt that she needed that boost, a bit of distance. Even though she worked in the system, she disagreed with plenty that went on there. The police and the sometimes heartless people who worked for the county, all of whom were ‘”just doing their jobs,” often cost her clients, in time and money.
Nick showed up at her office in full dress uniform, sharp and official, gold trim emphasizing the cuffs and hat. She felt compelled to salute, which provoked a grin.
“No need to be formal, Miz Taylor. No one here but us chickens.” He entered the office, crossed to her side and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. “You look spectacular.”
Now that was pure validation. “This old thing?” she said, fully sinking into the ironic tone of her voice. “But seriously…thanks.”
She meant it for the compliment, and for even more, for being persistent, for understanding her quirks. His warm smile seemed to encompass acceptance of all those underpinnings. She picked up the small black sequined purse she used for evenings out, very different from the big bag she usually carried half her life in. Just enough for a small card case, her phone, a lipstick, her keys and a few other items.
“Shall we?”
“Into the lion’s den?” he asked, showing her he understood very well her feelings about his brotherhood.
A sheepish smile came to her lips. “Something like that.”
“I’ll protect you, miss. To serve and protect. That’s the motto, right?”
“So they say.” She took his proffered arm, and they walked down the stairs, into the cool night air.
During the brief ride from Carson Street to the Marriott, Suzanne studied an uncharacteristically silent Nick, wondering what had him so preoccupied. Perhaps she’d shaken his confidence, and he didn’t know what subjects might be safe. Maybe it was something at work beyond the vagaries of the annual budget. Just as well she’d kept him out of her problems with Greg Morgan. The stalking, at least, had stopped, after he’d come into the open with his threats. Maybe now that he’d crowed his little bantam announcement, he’d feel self-justified and knock off his juvenile games.
Once he’d parked the truck in the Marriott’s designated lot, Nick became more attentive. Whatever he wrestled with, he apparently intended to set it aside for the next few hours so they could share the time together. “Have you ever met Ray Sandoval?” he asked. “He’s an interesting guy. Served in the Marines during Vietnam, then came home to Pittsburgh and changed uniforms…” Nick launched into a lengthy accounting of the man, more than Suzanne had ever wanted to know about the retiring Captain, his teacher wife, and his son at Annapolis. Inside, she recognized the county manager, a few other county officials of middle-range authority, a number of State Police uniforms, and an assortment of officers from around Allegheny County, even a few from up in Indiana Township. Nick didn’t stop to make introductions but swept her in, straight to the bar, where he ordered a scotch for himself and a glass of white wine per Suzanne’s request.
The room was large and festively decorated with looping bands of silver ribbon stuck on nearly every flat surface. Each of the forty-plus tables had a fat centerpiece with silver flowers, plastic fruit and ribbon, multiple place settings and sparkling glassware. A raised dais and table in the front was clearly reserved for the guest of honor and the other brass. Sipping her wine, she hoped Nick was permitted to sit out of the way somewhere, where they’d be “just part of the crowd,” and could spend the evening relatively undisturbed.
Nick waved down an older man in uniform, and Suzanne was pleasantly surprised to find a familiar face. Suzanne hadn’t seen detective Ferguson for years. His family had lived next to hers when she was an adolescent. He and Suzanne’s father had been great fishing buddies, and he’d always had a teasing word for Paul’s red-haired daughter. He’d aged so since then—but of course she had, too. As Nick formally presented her to his former partner, Hank Ferguson, the balding man’s eyes narrowed, then he broke out in a smile.
“Suzie Young?” he said. “No need for all the foofarah here, Nick. We’re old friends. Where did you stumble over this troublemaker?”
She shook his hand warmly. “Mr. Ferguson, how are you?”
“I’m well, honey. Still haven’t bought a bullet, so we count our blessings, right?” Hank tapped on the shoulder of a white-haired woman behind him, wearing a well-worn blue formal. “Dottie, look who’s here! It’s Suzie Young.”
When she turned, she looked closely at Suzanne, her round cheeks reminiscent of Mrs. Santa Claus, then her mouth dropped open.”Is that Maureen’s skinny little girl? Well, you have grown up.” She reached out for Suzanne, crushing her fondly against an ample bosom.
Grown up. Right, that was it. Ooof. Gradually she managed to disentangle herself. “It’s good to see you both. How is Jordan?”
“He’s just fine. He’s working out in California, doing something with computers. I don’t know what, exactly. He’s tried to explain it to me a couple of times, but I’m just not good with this tech stuff, you know.” Hank turned to Nick. “Suzie was such a tomboy. She and my son Jordan used to tear up the neighborhood good! Sweet heavens.” He laughed. “So how’s your mom and dad? What are you up to these days? Still here in town, I see.”
“I’m an attorney. My office is—”
“Wait a minute! This…She’s the lawyer you’ve been seeing?” Hank’s eyes opened wider as he stared at Nick.
“Really!” Dottie’s interest perked upward into full-blown curiosity. “How long have you two been dating?”
Suzanne felt her private life slipping from her control and took a long sip of wine. “He talks about me, then?” she asked with a sidewise glance at the lieutenant.
“Oh, not like that,” Nick said, a little too quickly.
“Mmm.” Not like that? Then like what? She let the vista of uniforms and ladies in cocktail dresses around the room distract her from her thoughts, taking in the buzz of conversation around them, wondering if it was time to be seated soon, before all the old stories started coming out. “Mr. Ferguson, my mom and dad are fine. They live up in Perrysville now, almost in the country. Dad will be so pleased I saw you.”
Nick smiled, a mysterious gleam in his eye. “So now I know where to gather a little background intelligence on this woman.”
“What might be more important is for me to warn Suzanne what she’s in for,” Hank said. “I was this man’s partner for seven years, my dear. I learned things no one else knows about him.”
; “Now that sounds like a worthwhile investigation,” Suzanne said, amused as Nick’s face registered serious consternation at the prospect of his own secrets seeing the light.
“Ah, the evil that men do follows them everywhere they go. Women, too,” Nick added with a small smirk. “Let me introduce Suzanne to the chief before all the speeches start.” Nick cleared his throat. “Save us some seats at your table, will you?”
“Of course. We’ll be over in the south quadrant.” Hank gestured in the direction of a quiet corner behind them, which Suzanne approved. He and his wife smiled as Nick and Suzanne moved toward the front of the room, Nick’s gaze searching the crowd before them.
“I had no idea you and Hank were old friends,” Nick said. “That’s an interesting coincidence.”
“I haven’t seen them in years, probably since I went to law school. Mom and Dad sold the house shortly after that.” She turned to look over her shoulder. “They look good, though. He must be close to retirement, hmm? He and Dad were nearly the same age, I thought.”
Nick nodded. “I’m sure he’ll step down within the year. He hasn’t been well lately.” He hesitated in his search, then crossed through the crowd more purposefully, bringing Suzanne along behind him.
Suzanne recognized Butch Reickert, the department chief, from television appearances rather than personal encounters. He wasn’t particularly tall, but his barrel chest made him seem larger than those around him as he joked in his gravelly voice. His white hair was combed back from his face in a thick mane, like that of a lion lording it over his pride. He smiled as wide as any politician when Nick introduced Suzanne.
“Pleased to meet you in person,” Reickert said. “I think I’ve received memorandums from you through the court, scolding us for the way we choose to enforce domestic violence orders.”
Suzanne took the sparkle in his eye as one of good humor. This wasn’t the time to engage in the battle. She let her firm handshake demonstrate her strong commitment to continue the discussion. “All of us can benefit from constructive criticism from day to day.”
“Regardless of what you think, we take these things seriously.”
“I should hope so. Better to protect a victim than investigate a homicide, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes, ma’am. Yes, ma’am, I would.” Reichert let go of her hand to reach out to someone just behind her shoulder. “Councilman Morgan. How kind of you to come tonight. I’m sure the Captain will be honored.”
Suzanne stiffened as Reichert spoke. Nick took her elbow and pulled her gently aside as Greg Morgan strutted past, resplendent in a crisp black tuxedo and bow tie, shaking Reichert’s hand as if he were on the campaign trail.
“I’m pleased to be invited, Chief. The police officers in our county do fine work. Fine work indeed. Even the misguided ones.” Morgan let go of Reichert’s hand, and pivoted just enough to include Nick and Suzanne in his purposefully-beneficent gaze. He studied those at the front table, then looked Suzanne up and down with an insolent eye. “Counselor. How very nice to see you again.”
“Mr. Morgan,” she said, a chill settling on her words so crisp that she was surprised they didn’t snap.
“We’d better find our seats,” Nick said, his voice pitched just so he remained polite. The tight grip of his fingers on her arm showed his agitation. “Chief.” He nodded, then turned away from the two men, imposing his body between them and Suzanne. Relieved to be out of Morgan’s proximity, she didn’t miss the irony of Nick doing exactly what she had done for Maddie in the courtroom.
Had Suzanne now become the “victim”? If so, she didn’t like it one bit.
Nick found the Fergusons at a table far from the front of the room. “Good,” he said. “With any luck, we won’t even be able to hear the speeches.” He winked at Suzanne, then got them each another drink from the bar, a gesture Suzanne felt was not only appropriate but appealing after the unexpected encounter with Greg Morgan. Hank insisted on sitting next to Suzanne, “to catch up on old times,” and they settled in as the salads were served.
The subject settled on her girls, and Hank and Dottie insisted on hearing all about them, right down to the proud-mama photos Suzanne had on her cell phone. While she bragged, Suzanne couldn’t help but notice that Nick was distracted once again, but not by Morgan. His gaze was several tables over, scrutinizing a trio of young ethnically-diverse officers. The officers, two men and a woman, watched him with the same intensity.
“I just can’t believe you’re a mother,” Dottie said, admiring Riviera’s cheerleader photo. “Jordan hasn’t even settled down yet.”
Suzanne refrained from commenting that she didn’t think Jordan was likely to settle down with any woman. While she’d indeed been a tomboy in those young years, Jordan had been her confidant and good friend with whom she’d shared an interest in several of the other boys in their class. If his mother hadn’t figured it out yet across the miles, it certainly wasn’t Suzanne’s job to tell her.
While she listened, Suzanne saw Hank had picked up the silent, but definitely hostile, exchange between Nick and the others. His expression was one of concern. Suzanne glanced among them, trying to divine what might be happening, but when neither commented openly, she returned to the greens in front of her.
Hank reached across Suzanne to pull on Nick’s sleeve. The gesture refocused Nick into the party atmosphere, and dinner proceeded without paying much attention to the droning accolades to the retiree. Suzanne tried to ascertain where Greg Morgan had finally landed, just so she was prepared to avoid him, and found him at one end of the dais. Insufferable man. Reinforcing his importance only gave him permission to continue his highhanded ways.
After dinner, a musical trio began to play big-band music, and several of the older couples got up to dance. Although she’d originally planned to try to sneak out after dinner, Suzanne found that what she really wanted was a slow dance in Nick’s arms. His efforts to engage her during dinner had reminded her of everything she found charming about him. Her curiosity was also piqued by his visual exchanges with his subordinates. Maybe she could pry some details out of him.
“Care to hit the floor, Lieutenant?” she asked, laying her hand over his.
His eyes widened a little, but he wasted no time getting to his feet. As they stepped onto the dance floor, the band segued into “Someone to Watch Over Me.” The irony didn’t escape her.
“Did I tell you yet that you look beautiful?” he said, holding her close enough to spark memories of the night she’d spent at his house. Every place his fingertips touched her generated a spark of excitement.
“At least half a dozen times,” she said, feeling heat in her cheeks.
“Ah. Well, I won’t bore you by telling you again.” He winked and continued guiding her around the floor, his movements skillful and practiced. She loved to dance, especially with a man who knew what he was doing. Another plus.
She looked up at him, carefully pitching her voice so it held no note of challenge, only concern. “Maybe you want to tell me what’s up with you and those guys over at the table on the west end of the room.”
He grunted and glanced away. “Nothing that should matter to us,” he said.
Suzanne knew enough about people to tell when she was being put off. Should she push harder? He would tell her if she forced him to. But she didn’t want to spoil the gentle détente they’d reached over the course of the evening. Instead, she laid her head on his shoulder, and let the music chase the questions from her mind.
Hank claimed the next dance, as Nick partnered with Dottie Ferguson. They switched back and continued through several numbers, letting the music remove them from their troubles. Suzanne enjoyed the subtle movement and the warm, gentle buzz of the alcohol taking effect. The pleasant moment was interrupted when a tall dark-skinned officer stopped in front of them.
“Mind if I cut in?” he asked. Suzanne recognized the man as one of the officers Nick had been watching earlier.
“Yes, I m
ind,” Nick said. His hand closed on Suzanne’s, and he started to walk away.
“Hey, man, chill. I’m trying to follow the social protocol in the uppity world.” Disrespect practically dripped from his voice, and his eyes held an open challenge.
Suzanne’s curiosity, handed an unexpected chance to discover the source of the young man’s hostile attitude, drove her to take a risk. “Nick, it’s all right. One dance with this gentleman will just about be my limit for the night. Then we can go.”
Nick’s expression hardened to stone, but the officer just grinned. “That’s cool,” he said. “Thanks, Lieutenant.”
Hank came up behind Nick, saying a low-voiced word or two in his ear. Nick’s hands were clenched. Whatever was between Nick and this man must be serious. She studied the officer as he swirled her away from Nick and Hank. He smiled down at her but something unpleasant in his eyes didn’t match the friendly gesture.
“So, you’re the Lieutenant’s main squeeze,” he said.
“Squeeze? I don’t know about that.” The man had foregone the conventional stance and was instead holding her much closer than strangers normally danced. Determined not to cause a scene, she simply acquiesced. “You work with him?”
“You bet I do. I’m one of his peons. Sergeant Washington,” he said, winking at the other officers at his table as they passed. “Far down the food chain.”
“I gather you’re not pleased with that status.”
“You’re smart, girl. That’s what all the education will get you,” Washington said with a hint of insolence. “Think you know it all, right? Miss Lawyer? You know it all?”
“Just making conversation, Sergeant,” she said, realizing she’d likely made a mistake, and wishing the dance would end. At some point she passed Greg Morgan, who was talking to several men she didn’t know. As Washington guided her onward, Morgan’s hot gaze fastened on her, making her even more uncomfortable. They continued around the floor, passing Nick twice more, Washington holding her extra close each time. Finally the music ended and Suzanne purposefully detached herself from him.