Jackie groaned. “That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do. I don’t think I’ve been too successful.”
“How does he feel about you?”
Wasn’t that the million-dollar question!
His concern at the hospital suggested he cared, but did he share the same sense of connection that had captivated her heart? Part of her hoped he did, but that would make her conflict even more difficult. Raking a witness over the grill could be humiliating. Doing it to someone who truly cared about her would be cruel.
Speculation paralyzed her. “He must care based upon his reaction at the hospital, but I don’t know exactly what he feels. We haven’t talked about our feelings since that first night.”
“You are one of the most singularly focused and ethical individuals I’ve met in my life. I know you are more than capable of keeping Brandon at arm’s length, especially if his intentions are not entirely clear.”
Jackie slouched against the hard bench. A sigh escaped. “You make me sound like a robot. Is that what I seem like to you? To the rest of the world? Wind me up, turn me on, and watch me win cases. Maybe I don’t work that way. Maybe I’m a big disappointment.” She got up and began to walk away.
“Get back here, young lady. We are not finished yet.”
Jackie turned to face Marilyn. She clenched her jaw. This emoting thing defied her. Being open and trusting sounded good, but it left her vulnerable too. Exposing her weaknesses could only lead to hurt. “You are
not
my mother. You can’t tell me what to do.” She steeled herself. “I don’t need your help. I don’t need anyone’s help. I’m fine.”
Marilyn rose. She opened her mouth as if to reply but stopped. Her shoulders sank. “You’re right. I’m not your mother. But, Jackie, you are the daughter I never had. And I beg to differ that you are doing just fine. You’re bankrupt, sleep deprived, lonely, and struggling to prove something to yourself that is apparent to the rest of the world. Would you seriously call that fine?” Marilyn folded her arms across her chest.
Jackie blinked. “That last part was kind of mean.”
“But true.” Marilyn pressed her lips together.
“I’m pleading the Fifth, but could you go back to the daughter part? Does it have anything to do with the man in the photo in your study?”
“That’s another story. A complicated one.” Marilyn resumed her place on the bench.
Jackie sat down next to her. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll take the implications of your mean diatribe under advisement, but you have to come clean too.”
It was Marilyn’s turn to reminisce. She laid out the love affair she’d had in her youth. She had just started her forays into real estate and was building quite a portfolio of assets. He was the love of her life. He asked her to marry him, but she wanted to establish her career before settling down. She kept pushing back the wedding date, until it was too late. After a fatal car accident, she never saw her lover again. And never felt that same connection with another man since.
Tears welled up in Marilyn’s pale blue eyes. “I’ve regretted that decision my entire life. He was my true love and I let my ambition stand in the way of my heart’s happiness.” She squeezed Jackie’s hand. “Every time I look at you, I think of what life would have been like if I’d gotten married. The mistake I made.” Marilyn dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief and continued, “I’d hate for you to make the same one.”
Jackie found herself again fighting the urge to turn into a simpering emotional wreck. This woman cared for her like her mother should have. She gave in finally and wrapped Marilyn in her arms, but held in the threatening tears. “Is it possible that we can pull it together and make some decisions?”
Marilyn blew her nose and gave Jackie a sweet smile. “Absolutely. Where were we? You not being able to keep it cool with Brandon, right? Why not? I must admit, I cannot understand that part. Even the hottest passion can be put on hold for such a short time.”
“It’s not the sex, although I would give a million dollars to be in his arms right now. It’s not even really about passion. It’s not at all whether I
can
keep him at arm’s length. I can do that, you’re right. What I’m afraid of is that if I have to face him in the courtroom, that whatever it is we have will not survive.”
Marilyn frowned. “Surely he’d understand your cross-examination would be purely about business.”
Jackie rubbed her hands over her face as if she could clear the hodgepodge of thoughts circulating in her brain. “On an intellectual level, probably. But, he gets me. He’s the only person I’ve ever been completely myself with. Well, almost completely. I suppose I still try to play the hero with him too. But other than that, I’m just me. And, he completely affirms me. He challenges me to be the best person I can be and not just in the overachieving way. Is any of this making sense?”
“Yes, dear, but I still don’t understand why you cannot face him on the witness stand.”
“Because when I do, I have no choice but to destroy him. You know how it can be. Public humiliation isn’t easy for anyone, let alone when a man suffers it at the hands of a woman he cares for. Even if he’s strong enough to withstand that, I’m afraid if I take him down on the witness stand I’ll somehow destroy the part of me in him and the part of him in me.”
Marilyn said, “If he feels the same way about you, he could resign as expert.”
Jackie shook her head. “I can’t ask him to do that. Ashe has something over him. I’m guessing it relates to the alleged crime they were involved with in college.”
Marilyn held out a hand for each option and moved them up and down like the scale measuring the smartest choice. “Either you resign from the case or he resigns as the expert, right?”
Jackie stood up and threw her hands in the air. “Is that the best you’ve got, Marilyn? One of us gives up?” This trusting thing and openness was supposed to help, but everything inside of her churned. What did she feel? What the hell did Brandon feel? What could Ashe be holding over Brandon’s head?
She let out a frustrated snarl. “I can’t resign. It’s practically impossible from a legal standpoint. And what if he’s not interested in me? I give up my life for some guy I spent one night on a boat with? That’s insane. You’re crazy.”
“Am I?” Marilyn gently tugged Jackie back onto the bench.
“Beyond crazy, yes.” Did verbalizing what she’d been turning over and over in her heart make someone crazy?
“There’s a Hopi saying that the time for the lone wolf is over. You are not alone. Call Simon O’Malley. He’s a good lawyer. He can take this across the finish line. You’ve been in a serious accident. I’m sure the judge will find cause to release you from the case and provide Simon time to get up to speed.”
“I’ll consider it. First, I need to talk to the Kovels. I’m not sure I can give up on them, even for the price I’ll have to pay.”
They strolled in silence one more time around the garden. The breeze was light and refreshing. The grassy lawn sloped gently up toward the terrace. If only life could be as laid out and uncomplicated as a manicured lawn. Maybe it was and she just wouldn’t let herself believe it.
* * * *
There was only one place where Brandon would be grounded enough to read through Brynn’s journal and go through the memory box—his sailboat. He stopped by his house to pick up some clothes and pack some food before heading up to the harbor in Baltimore. He liked his mooring there because he could get to it quickly from DC and then get out to the Chesapeake without having to motor down a river.
By the time he settled in, dusk’s orange glow melted over Baltimore’s harbor. Emotionally drained from his morning visit to the Rouvalises, Brandon opted to stay in the harbor for the night. He opened a bottle of wine, sliced a baguette, and laid some salami, cheese, and olives on a plate. He took his version of dinner to the foredeck where he’d set up some cushions.
Brynn’s mementos filled no more than a big shoebox. He pulled out her old iPod. It felt like a brick in comparison to the newest version. No doubt she would have had the latest and greatest. She was an unabashed princess.
He let out a small laugh. His first love personified princess. Jackie flouted the Baltimorean social and legal structure. She relished being self-made. Nothing princess about her.
He plugged in the player to his deck speakers and shuffled through the playlists before selecting the Hot Summer compilation. Although the music brought back memories, the grief he’d expected eluded him. The sadness had faded, and to his surprise, hopefulness now resided in his heart. How could knowing one woman for a few short but intense weeks make such an impact in his life?
It didn’t take long to read through Brynn’s journal. The rest of the box was a mix of photos, cards, and other mementos of her first year at UVA—concert-ticket stubs, a grade card, her acceptance letter from her sorority. He held the braided ankle bracelet he’d given her; she used to wear it in her attempt to look earthy, which she was not. A photo of Brynn with him on her dad’s sailboat caught his attention. Brynn was an expert. She and her dad had taught him to sail.
Time’s passage became real. He was no longer a besotted eighteen-year-old responsible for the death of his love. But he still allowed himself to be manipulated and controlled by Robert Ashe. Time to stand up to the bully. He dialed the number of the Assistant US Attorney.
On the second ring, a man answered. “Matt Erickson.”
“We need to talk about the Ashe case,” Brandon said.
“I’d prefer not to do this by phone. Where are you?” Erickson’s voice was clipped, anxious.
“Here. In Baltimore, on my boat.”
Muted voices buzzed on the other end. “Meet me in fifteen minutes in the lounge of the Harborplace Hotel.” The phone disconnected before he could reply.
Brandon stashed the memory box and the remnants of his dinner. Good thing the hotel was close by so he could walk. It might help him clear his mind. He wasn’t exactly sure what he would to say to the government, but the tone of Erickson’s voice didn’t sound encouraging.
He walked briskly toward the Harborplace Hotel, his mind churning over his dilemma. He wanted to nail Ashe. Had to. A desire for revenge burned in his gut. Ashe should pay for the role he might have played in Brynn’s death. But something more significant than anger lingered deep inside. It pulled not just in his guts but also his heart.
Jackie.
The fact she claimed not to need his protection compelled him to give it. No one that damned independent could be playing him like all the other women he knew seemed to. No. She didn’t need him. Did that mean she wanted him? He tried to push that thought down, but it kept bubbling back, tugging at his chest.
He’d need to find a way to take Ashe down without exposing Jackie to any danger. As much as he feared what loving again might bring up for him, he could never live with himself if something happened to Jackie because of Ashe. Because of his relationship with Ashe.
He strode faster to the hotel, determined to make it right.
Erickson and Weaver sat in chairs around a low table on the fringe of the lounge area. A woman with her back to Brandon sat with them. They all stood when Brandon reached them.
The woman was a statuesque blonde. Brandon couldn’t help doing a quick once-over. His scoping skills were formidable, and she didn’t show any sign that she noticed him checking her out. He used to go for this type every day of the week. Long, platinum hair, a great body, and a short dress showing the longest and buffest legs he’d ever seen. Well, except for Jackie’s. Jackie never flaunted her body. She simply moved naturally in it. He loved that unassuming sexiness. This woman before him, like so many he’d had in his past, seemed artificial compared to Jackie.
The woman cleared her throat. Her hand was outstretched toward him. He took it and received a surprisingly firm handshake. “Emma Schutte, Drug Enforcement Agency.”
Brandon looked around the trio. “The DEA?”
Erickson leaned in. “Things have developed a little differently than we’d expected. With the information you provided, we’ve solidified our criminal fraud case against Ashe, but after tracing some of the transfers you pointed out to us, we found some interesting connections.”
The attorney gave a nod to the woman who continued. “As you may know, the I-95 corridor from Miami to New York is the most active drug-running route in the US. For the last year, I’ve been investigating a group that has been working through Puerto Rico. Some of the accounts to which Ashe transferred money are accounts of the principal players in my investigation.”
“Are you saying Ashe is involved with drugs?”
Erickson looked around nervously. “We aren’t saying that, but we are definitely curious as to the connections between the two. It also holds up our case. We’d like to bring everything out at one time.”
Brandon looked at Weaver. “Can someone get to the point?”
Weaver gave him a cool smile. “We aren’t ready to move. And, we don’t want the civil case coming to trial. Yet. That’s where we need your help.”
“How?” Brandon scrambled mentally to keep up with the turn of events.
Erickson said, “Ashe is depending on you for his case. He still trusts you, right?”
“Yeah,” Brandon said, although he wasn’t exactly sure how right he was.
“We need you to stall Ashe,” said Weaver. “Threaten to resign from the case. Disappear. Shake him up a little.”
Brandon leaned back in his seat. An hour ago, the thought of resigning from this case rested foremost in his mind. He wanted to get as far away as possible from this case and prove to Jackie that he was not aligned with Ashe. Now, though, wouldn’t this plan just irritate Ashe and jeopardize Jackie’s safety?
“Wasn’t it just a week ago that you asked me to play it cool with Ashe? Don’t you think he’ll suspect something? He’ll know something’s up. I’m not going to put Jackie’s life at risk.”
“She’s already at risk.” Weaver stared him down. “Go along with our plan. Call Stone. Disappear. We’ve got Ashe covered.”
Brandon turned over his options. The room felt warm. “It doesn’t feel right. I don’t know.”
Weaver pressed, “Do you or do you not want Ashe to pay? This is your chance to make it right.”