"So, ah, break a leg… or whatever it is they say to prosecutors on the first day of a major trial."
Steve was grinning across the front seat, looking better than he should have given the very short amount of time he had slept. Ellie had picked up her satchel and was halfway out the door; she turned back with a patronizing smirk.
"Nice try, but I think that's just for the theatre. How about 'Let's put the bastard away!'? How does that sound?"
Steve nodded with a facial shrug. "Sounds good to me. Put the bastard away!" he crowed, and she glanced around quickly, then leaned forward to shut him up by planting a kiss on his grinning lips.
As she turned away, getting out of the car, she muttered, "I have no idea how or why Mike puts up with you…" She slammed the door, then leaned back in the window and smiled warmly. "I love you," she whispered, and he stretched across the seat to kiss her once more before she straightened up and turned toward the courthouse entrance.
He watched as she strode across the sidewalk to the concrete steps, once more in awe of her beauty, her brains and his own luck, then shifted the car back into drive and pulled away from the curb. Neither of them spotted the dark blue Ford Pinto parked half a block away.
# # # # #
"Well, you're here on time for a change. Ellie have an early start this morning?" Mike asked with a smug grin as he got into the LTD, tossing his topcoat onto the back seat.
Staring through the windshield but unable to resist a smile, Steve nodded. "The Tolivar case starts this morning."
"Oh, geez, yeah. I forgot about that." The car pulled away from the curb. "This is her biggest case so far, right?"
"Yep. She's only second chair but still…"
"Hey, buddy boy, second chair is nothing to sneeze at. If they win this case, her career is made, you know that, right? This is the big leagues. No more Triple A for Ellie."
Steve smiled affectionately, at Ellie's opportunity and his partner's never-ending cock-eyed optimism.
"You know," Mike continued with, Steve knew, feigned gravity, "you better watch yourself or she's going to get so far ahead of you, you'll be eating her dust."
Chuckling, Steve glanced across the front seat. "Mike, you do realize, right, that she and I aren't in the same profession? I'm a cop… remember?" he prompted pedantically, pointing to his chest, "and she's a lawyer… right?"
"Ah ah ah," Mike said, cocking his head and holding up his left index finger, "not just a lawyer, my boy, a prosecutor. Someone who's usually on our side, right?"
They shared a laugh then Mike shook his head, a warm, impressed smile lingering on his weary features. "Well, buddy boy, I don't know about you but I could've used a little more sleep. If we didn't have this meeting with Gerry, I could still be sawing logs and you could be sitting in the front row of Courthouse Number One."
"What time did you get home?"
"Just after three." He chuckled quietly. "I might be getting a little too old for this…"
Steve laughed gently. "Listen, uh, if nothing comes up after we finish with Gerry, what say we take the rest of the day off." He glanced across the front seat. "You could go back to sleep and I could drop by the courthouse…"
Mike looked at him expressionlessly from under the brim of the grey fedora. "I'm liking your thinking…" he said solemnly, then grinned and slapped the younger man's arm before rubbing his hands over his face. "Oh," he moaned, "let's hope nobody killed nobody in the past twenty-four hours."
# # # # #
Expecting a large scrum outside Courtroom Number One, Steve was mildly surprised to see almost nobody except a couple of guards. He glanced at his watch; it was just after 1:30 p.m. Either the morning session was going exceptionally long or the trial had already been resumed after a lunch break, something he hadn't expected.
He glanced around, frustrated, then reluctantly pulled out his star and flashed it at the middle-aged guard outside the courtroom door. The guard nodded slightly and reached for the large brass handle, quietly pulling the heavy wooden door open far enough for the slightly-built inspector to slip through into the crowded court.
The room was quiet, every eye on the tall, grey-haired man standing at the podium set up opposite the judge's bench. Defense attorney Richard Atherton, one of the most successful and respected criminal defense lawyers in The City, and indeed the state, was presenting his opening argument.
Realizing quickly that there were no seats available, Steve slid quietly along the back wall, past the other standees, until he could see the prosecution table and the back of Ellie's head.
Atherton was in superb form as he laid out the defense's case, already calling into question the validity of the prosecution's evidence. He sounded very convincing; Steve knew ADA John Walters' team were going to have their work cut out for them.
While he knew quite a bit about the case, it was not one that he and Mike had worked on. It was actually an Oakland PD case; the venue had been moved to San Francisco because Atherton had successfully argued that Ronald Tolivar would be unable to receive a fair and unbiased trial in his native Oakland.
The rich and powerful, and, in certain circles, well-respected real estate magnate had been charged in the stabbing death of his wife. Though insisting that he was in a business meeting at the time of her death, there had been enough circumstantial evidence to bring charges against him.
The Oakland District Attorney had then decided that the San Francisco DA's office, who knew the denizens of their own city so much better, be allowed to take the lead on the prosecution. The two offices had joined forces; Atherton and Ellie were the leads on the San Francisco side, while Oakland ADA's Derek Simpson and Kyle Walker rounded out the team.
# # # # #
Steve shifted position, trying to work out the stiffness in his legs; he had been standing against the back wall for almost two hours, listening to Atherton lay out the broad strokes of the prosecution's case. He may have miscalculated, he realized with an almost imperceptible shrug and quiet chuckle; he hadn't meant to be standing there almost all afternoon. But the courtroom was being tightly run and if he'd left, Judge Athol Green, with whom he'd already had a couple of uncomfortable run-ins over the past few years, would certainly take notice. He did not want to be banned from the courtroom.
Atherton finally wrapped up, and the judge gaveled the proceedings to a close for the day, reminding those assembled that they would resume the next morning at 10 a.m. sharp. As the crowd began to exit, Steve pressed himself up against the wall as people pushed past him. He kept his eyes on Ellie, who had stood along with the other members of her team.
When the courtroom had emptied out enough to move around, Steve wound his way to the bar and slid up quietly behind his girlfriend. He waited until Walters had finished his instructions then tapped Ellie on the shoulder. She turned her head with a frown, which immediately softened into a surprised and happy smile. "What are you doing here?"
Steve chuckled. "We had our meeting with Gerry then we took the rest of the day off."
"How long have you been here?" She turned to face him after a glance back at her boss.
"I got here just after Atherton started." He chuckled, cocking his head. "He's certainly an impressive speaker."
Ellie snorted. "He's a wind-bag. We're gonna poke holes all over his bloated theories."
Steve chortled. "That's my girl. Listen, ah, I know this is a longshot, but do you think we could grab a quick dinner before you guys go into another huddle?"
She grimaced. "I wish I could, Steve, but John wants us to go over Atherton's opening and start to put together our strategy. We have a working dinner." She inhaled deeply. "I have a feeling I'm gonna be having a lot of these. Sorry."
"Hey, no worries. I know all about that. I think I've eaten more meals in the office and in the car than I ever have at home in the past four years." He leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss. "Don't work too late."
"I won't. But, ah, I'm gonna go back to my place tonight after I finish." She looked quickly back over her shoulder, then leaned closer and dropped her voice even lower. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't need any distractions… if you know what I mean."
Steve dropped his head closer to hers and smiled warmly. "I know exactly what you mean. And I think I'm almost flattered to be called a distraction." He chuckled. "Good luck," he whispered then kissed her lightly. "I'm gonna get out of here and let you get back to work." He turned to go then looked back. "Oh, I almost forgot, Mike says hi."
Ellie laughed throatily, shaking her head. "Say hi back." She glanced once more over her shoulder and then mouthed, "I love you."
He grinned and mouthed the words back to her before he started up the aisle towards the exit.
# # # # #
He put the dirty plate and cutlery on the counter, then picked up the glass of beer and re-entered the living room, dropping heavily onto the couch and putting his feet on the coffee table. His eyes on Walter Cronkite, he took a sip of beer then set the bottle on the table and reached for the newspaper that lay on the floor at his feet.
He glanced at the front page then slipped the top section free, letting the rest drop once more to the rug. He had just snapped the paper open to an inside page when a knock on the front door caught his attention.
Sitting up a little straighter and frowning, he glanced down at his watch then towards the door. He wasn't expecting anybody. He folded the paper, tossed it onto the couch beside him and got to his feet.
He looked through the peephole in the door before unlocking it and swinging it open. A tiny, rather plain-looking young woman with straight dirty blonde hair, wearing a pink granny dress and a wide, excited smile stood on the stoop.
"Steve!" she squealed and propelled herself forward, wrapping her arms around him before he could react. He didn't move as she rocked him back and forth, giggling. She pulled away and looked up at him, beaming. "Don't you remember?" she asked, eyes wide.
Smiling tentatively, he shook his head.
"It's me – Donna! Remember Mount Shasta, about 19 months ago? That week we all spent together – you, me, Maria and Charlie and the others? We all went hiking and camping…?" Her grin began to waver. "You and Maria were going out then, remember… and we all got together…?"
Steve started slightly, his memory being jogged. "Oh… oh, yeah, right, Maria…" He hesitated, not sure how to continue. "Uhm, Maria and I aren't seeing each other anymore…" he offered hesitantly.
"Oh, I know," Donna cut him off enthusiastically. "She told me."
He nodded vaguely. "Oh…" He raised his eyebrows. "So, ah, is there something I can do for you?"
She stared into his eyes and smiled warmly. "Well, I sure hope so." Her eyes slid past him briefly and she pointed into the house. "Uhm, is it okay if I come in?"
Startled, he shook his head quickly and took a step back. "Oh, of course, I'm sorry. Please, come on in." He gestured towards the living room and she stepped over the threshold.
As he closed the door, he didn't see the dark blue Ford Pinto parked down the block.