Dark Moon, A Work in Progress, Chapter Twenty-Nine

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
She was afraid he’d gone to bed. She’d taken a desperate chance, driving over to his house at midnight just because she wanted to see him. He was wearing gray sweat pants and a white t-shirt and holding an empty glass that she guessed must have held scotch. It was the most casually dressed she had ever seen him. She had done her best to stay away ever since seeing realizing his growing feelings for Alexa, knowing as she did that even if Alexa hadn’t been in the way, nothing would ever be possible for her with him. But, she told herself, Jim had become her anchor in the swirling intrigue that surrounded this case; and she needed to be near him at least for that night to steady herself for what was to come.
“You haven’t been home to change since the hearing.” He was surprised to see her in the same dark purple suit.
“I went to the hospital to give Alexa the news, and then I had several meetings with prospective clients this afternoon. I went to Trend for a drink, and then I realized I needed to talk to you.”
“And I’m sure you haven’t had a thing to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Yes, you are.” He led the way into his dark kitchen, snapped on the light, and pulled out a stool for her at island in the center. Without asking, he took her briefcase and purse and began to unbutton her suit coat. He didn’t care if he was inappropriate. He was sailing on too much scotch, and he’d missed her, and right now nothing mattered more than having her here with him.
“What are you doing?”
“Making sure you don’t dribble brie and mushroom quiche on your very expensive jacket. Chanel?”
“No.”
“Then designer Who?”
“Does it matter?”
“You were the best looking one in the courtroom this morning.”
Sarah gave him the first smile he’d seen that day. “Preston Baldwin is fifty and bald and Judge Tomlinson could use a few laps at the gym. As for the sheriff – ”
“Aren’t you going to make a crack about real men and quiche?”
“No. I’m going to be happy you let me into your house at midnight and are willing to feed me. The suit is Marc Jacobs, by the way.” I’ve had too much to drink, Sarah thought. I shouldn’t have come here. But I’m so happy to see him that it hurts. I only hope I don’t do something stupid.
“Should I pour wine or make coffee?”
“Wine.” Ok, Sarah thought. That was stupid. I’m already over my limit.
He opened a bottle of cabernet and poured two glasses. “Go slowly on this. The quiche will be ready in a few minutes. I had some for supper.” He told himself not to be distracted because she was wearing a lacy black camisole under the discarded jacket.
“So how was Alexa when you gave her the news?”
“Surprised. Happy. Didn’t you go by the hospital tonight?”
“No. I knew you’d been there. And I figured after the Judge reamed out the sheriff, they wouldn’t try anything tonight. Congratulations, by the way. This is an unprecedented victory.”
Sarah’s stomach tightened because she was afraid he was about to mention Menendez. But to her great relief he didn’t. “Probably illegal, as the judge said. But thanks.”
“Killing her in jail is also illegal.”
“Good point.”
“Have you decided how to handle things tomorrow?”
“They are coming to the hospital at 10:30 to fit the ankle monitor.”
“And you’re going to be there to make sure they don’t smear it with poison.”
“Something like that. I want you there, too.”
“Me?”
“Well, you’ve done the lion’s share of looking after her. She trusts you.” Sarah tried to keep her voice steady.
“And you, too. I’m just doing what an investigator does for his boss.”
And it looks like a lot more than that to me. But I’m not going to say it.
“Here, eat up.”
“Thanks.”
He watched her wolf down the quiche. Unlike the inedible stuff she brought home in saran wrap that she picked at, she always ate his food.
“That was fast. I bet you haven’t eaten all day.”
She looked up guiltily from the empty plate. “Do the pretzels at Trend count?”
“Definitely not. Here. One more piece.” He fought down the wave of feelings that washed over him as he sliced another serving of pie and heated it in the microwave. She needed someone to look after her. She needed him.
“Thanks.” Sarah attacked her second helping more slowly, savoring every bit. “It’s wonderful as usual.”
“I still say you need a personal chef.”
She laughed. “Wouldn’t work. My hours are too irregular.”
“There would at least be something in the frig for you to heat up when you finally do get home.”
“It’s a thought. What have you found in Brigman’s bank records?”
“Do you really want to talk about those right now?”
No, Sarah, thought. No, I don’t. I want to put my head on your shoulder and feel your arms around me and feel safe. I never feel safe, but I feel safe with you. “I was hoping for just a preliminary opinion.”
He was disappointed. He didn’t want to talk shop at one a.m. He wanted to hold her and tell her how much she meant to him. “I can give you more than that. I’ve found evidence Michael was, indeed bribing Ronald Brigman. There’s a pattern of transfers into Brigman’s account each month and stupidly Michael used the same account to write support checks to Alexa.”
Sarah’s face brightened. “So we can prove Michael was bribing Brigman?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t help us put together a defense for Alexa because although she and Bob Metcalf suspected something illegal, they didn’t actually know what Michael and Brigman were up to. So the bribes couldn’t have influenced Alexa’s decision to kill them. If she killed them.”
“Have you told Alexa her suspicions were justified?”
“No. I figured that was your job.”
Well, at least they weren’t quite as close as they’d seemed that night. Sarah took some comfort in that. She was suddenly overcome by the desire to go to sleep.
“Hey!” Jim caught her as she was slipping off the stool.
“Sorry. Food. Wine. I’m tired, now. I’d better go home.”
“Well, you can’t drive. And to be honest, neither can I. I’ve killed quite a bit of scotch tonight.”
Because you missed visiting Alexa, she thought. But knew better than to say so. “No, I’ll be fine,” she insisted.
“You will not be fine. Guest room, now.”
“No. I have to go home.” Because something will happen if I stay. And tomorrow at the hospital, when I see you with Alexa, my heart break all over again.
Jim sighed. “Then I’ll call a cab for you.”
Within ten minutes, he bundled her into the bright yellow taxi and then stood in the drive like a love-sick school boy watching it vanish into the dark.