Disclaimer: I don't own any of the recognizable characters of Law and Order. If I did, I wouldn't have to write fan fics to get enjoyment.
Assistant District Attorney Abbie Carmichael groaned silently. The mercury in the thermometer on her desk inched up another degree. Why did I leave Texas and move to New York? Oh, right, it was to get away from the heat. She pulled the fan on her desk closer to her face and wiped off the drop of sweat that moved down her caramel-colored cheek. She glanced back at the thermometer. Ten o'clock in the morning and it's already up to ninety degrees.
"I thought that, being a Texas girl, you'd be used to the heat."
Abbie looked up to see her boss, Jack McCoy, leaning against her doorpost. A hint of a grin teased the corners of his mouth.
"It's all these years of living with you wimps up here," she shot back.
That teasing quickly became a full-blown grin.
"I see you're not exactly accustomed to hot temperatures either," she drawled, leaning back in her chair.
Jack glanced down at his own apparel. He had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt so that they sat above his elbows. His tie was loose and his collar unbuttoned. "I'm not exactly crazy about heat stroke."
She picked up her fan and moved her chair closer to the open window, hoping to catch a hint of a breeze. "I thought this building was air-conditioned," she complained.
"Aw, Abbie, can't take the heat? What happened to the tough girl image?"
Abbie glared at him. "Hey, you try living for twenty years where every summer is over a hundred degrees and then you can tease me about taking the heat."
Jack laughed and held up his hands. "Okay, okay, you win. Meeting in my office in ten minutes."
Abbie sighed. Jack had ordered her to attend weekly meetings in his office to discuss upcoming and current cases. She stretched her long limbs and once again wiped the perspiration from her brow. She grabbed a stack of files from her desk and made her way to Jack's office around the corner from hers, dodging paralegals and secretaries along her way. Most of them acknowledged her with a quick nod and scrambled to get out of her path. She was known in the office as a hardass. While Jack's nickname was "Hang 'Em High McCoy," hers was "Hang 'Em Higher Carmichael." Her toughness and unforgiving attitude were well-known throughout the District Attorney's office, and the paralegals knew better than to get in her way.
Jack was sitting at the conference table in his office, manila folders surrounding him. He motioned to a seat across from him. Abbie obligingly seated herself and grabbed a couple of the folders. "Okay, here we go."
Jack picked up one of the folders and glanced at it. "The West Side rapist. How close are we on getting ready for trial on that one?"
Abbie riffled through the folders surrounding her. Finding the right one, she quickly skimmed the contents. "I'm meeting with the eyewitness tomorrow, so I'd say… next week we can bring it to the grand jury and get an indictment."
Jack made a quick note on his legal pad. "Okay, get the grand jury in session for next Monday." Abbie jotted it down on her own pad. "Now, what about the negligent homicide case?"
Abbie pulled another file from her growing stack. "Hmmm… evidence is circumstantial at best."
"Well, we may have to think about a plea on that one."
Abbie stared at him. He caught her gaze. "Yeah, I did say 'plea'. Sometimes you have to do that, you know." Her brown eyes never left his. "Look, I don't like giving out pleas any more than you do, but it has to be done. We have to do a little triage here."
Abbie pursed her lips and went back to her file.
Jack sighed inwardly. Why does she always have to be like that? He would never be able to figure her out. He picked up another file. "Here's one that Briscoe and Green brought over earlier today." He handed it to her. "Alex Garza. Serial rapist and murderer. Six girls in the past two years. Evidence looks pretty good. I think we can get him to grand jury and arraignment by Wednesday." He looked over his own copy and glanced up at his assistant.
She was as white as a sheet. The Texan stared at the folder with a look of utter horror on her face. Oh, God, it can't be. It's impossible.
"Abbie?" Jack's voice cut through, and just like that she was back to normal.
"What?"
"Are you all right?" His voice betrayed his concern.
She struggled to maintain her composure. "Um, yeah." She tried to smile, but failed. "I'm fine," she lied, desperately trying to think of a sarcastic comeback.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing." She stood. "Um, you know, I need… a little bit of fresh air." She practically ran to the door, calling over her shoulder, "I'll be back in a little while."
Jack stared after her. What the hell was that all about? He picked up the folder that she had been holding seconds ago and his gaze fell on the name of the attorney. Daniel White. Who's he?