Brooke McCoy's eyes widened in surprise after she stepped through the doorway to find her husband putting the finishing touches dinner.
McCoy acknowledged her presence with a welcoming smile as he removed an oven mitt and exchanged the broiler pan he held for a glass of wine.
"Hi."
"Hi yourself," she said as joined him in the kitchen to take the glass he held out to her and returned the quick kiss he planted on her lips. "That must have been the shortest political photo op in history or did Liz succeed where I failed and talked you out of going to White Plains all together?"
"Liz succeeded in sidetracking me, but not the way you're thinking."
An hour later McCoy's wife nodded thoughtfully as she ate the final bite of McCoy's simple feast of baked potatoes and T-bone steaks.
"Well, this has to be a first," she responded when McCoy finished his retelling of the events leading up to Elizabeth Donnelly's return to temporarily return to the DA's office.
"Actually there was a judge up in Rochester that made a similar request a few years ago," McCoy began after draining the last of the scotch from his glass.
"Yes, but Judge Antel wasn't married to the DA up there," Brooke reminded him. "I can understand Liz's determination to see the case through, especially given the ramifications it had on her career. But Jack, given the relationship between the two of you, it wouldn't be hard for your political enemies to take this and run with it in the press."
"By 'enemies' I assume you're referring to Shalvoy and his henchmen?"
"Is there some other high powered politician that would like nothing better than to squash you like a bug?"
"Well, there is your former brother in law," McCoy shot back as he shrugged his shoulders in mock innocence.
"Make that a politician that's not already in jail?"
"Melanie Carver stopped returning my calls after that fund raising scandal-"
"Okay, fine. I concede the fact you have enemies lurking around every corner that are plotting your demise," Brooke mockingly retorted as she rolled her eyes. "But I still say Shalvoy is the one who can do the most damage; especially if he thinks he has something personal he can use against you."
McCoy rolled his shoulders again before picking up their empty glasses and retreating to the bar, knowing Brooke would understand his unspoken request for a temporary reprieve.
"More wine?"
"Half a glass," she answered as she followed suit and began to clear the table.
McCoy's first reaction to his wife's concerns was a resounding 'screw Shalvoy'. But he knew his reason for agreeing to Donnelly's unexpected request went well beyond the pissing match between himself and Donald Shalvoy.
Although Elizabeth Donnelly was been known in throughout the state as an exceptional prosecutor, McCoy knew it wasn't his confidence in his ex-wife's ability to objectively prosecute the cold case that was at the heart of his decision to reinstate her.
As McCoy reached for the bottle of Dewar's, he recalled the night his first wife had gotten the news she was going to be the lead prosecutor on the Creswell case.
In his mind's eye McCoy could see the dejected look on her face when Donnelly walked through the door of the small cottage that was still cluttered with unopened boxes from their move from The City. McCoy had never seen the usually unflappable ADA look so slapped down, either before or since that night.
"I was hoping to tell you before Alfred had the chance," he said he got up from the tiny table at the back of the modest kitchen. "But then the contractor called about a problem with the new windows and-"
"The contractor called you, when I was the one who wrote the deposit check? When I was the one that told him which window we wanted," Donnelly incredulously gasped, as she let go of what remained of her composer and lashed out at the nearest target available to her.
"He tried you first Liz, but when your assistant told him you were unavailable-"
"My knight in shining amour galloped to the rescue one more time," Donnelly interjected with a bitter snicker. "My God Jack, you must be exhausted. Between fighting my battles at work and-"
"Alfred called me, not the other way around. He is the DA. What would you have had me do," McCoy defensively demanded as he followed her past the living room and into their bedroom.
"Does the phrase 'let me fight my own battles' mean anything to you," Donnelly sarcastically shot back before not quite sidestepping one of the open boxes that blocked the pathway to the bed.
"Does the phrase 'for better or worse' mean anything to you," her husband countered after reaching to steady her in his arms, while he kicked the container aside. "Come on Liz, you've worked like a dog since joining the DA's office. You have the highest conviction rate in the Sex Crimes Bureau. You've earned the right to prosecute Caroline Creswell, did you really expect me to stand back and watch Wentworth take that away from you?"
"Be honest Jack. We both know why you stood up for me with Alfred today," she said in a tone that betrayed the disappointment she felt.
McCoy sighed as he guided her to the side of the bed. He had no doubt as to what her comment alluded to and why. From the day Donnelly had accepted the promotion to ADA for the Sex Crimes Unit, the job had been a bone of contention for the newlyweds.
Not because the new job meant he once again had to break in a new assistant, but because no matter how progressive McCoy liked to believe he was as a man, especially a newly wed man, he hated the idea of his wife being anywhere near the kind of deviants the Sex Crimes Unit dealt with daily.
"I stood up for you because you're the best prosecutor for the job, not because of any personal bias I have towards you as my wife," he shot back with a blunt edge in his own voice that revealed McCoy's mounting frustration. "Face it Liz, if a man goes after a little mouse like Caroline Creswell, it's a slam dunk for the defense. We both know you're a damn good attorney; we also know you have this case in part because you're a woman. So instead of fighting it, use it."
"Is that what you told Alfred," Donnelly whispered her eyes as wide and shiny as if McCoy had literally, instead of figuratively, knocked the wind out of her.
An older, wiser McCoy would have recognized the hurt in his wife's eyes for what it was, but at that moment he saw his wife through eyes filled with his own impatience at having been put in a no win situation by their superior.
"Alfred told me he didn't think prosecuting murderers was an appropriate job for a woman. Especially a woman who has just become a wife and will soon have the additional responsibility of being a mother-"
"You told him I'm pregnant! Oh my God Jack, how could you-"
"He told meand I wasn't about to deny something that will be obvious to the entire office in a matter of months," he gruffly countered; ignoring the horror in her voice. "What I did tell him was to look passed your gender and at your record as a prosecutor. That combined with the like ability points a pretty young mother will get, will more than counteract the sympathy a helpless looking defendant will invoke in a jury."
"So that's your answer? To go with it? Use Alfred Wentworth's blatant discrimination and antiquated thinking to my advantage and roll with the punches," she quietly demanded as McCoy felt an invisible wall come crashing down between them.
"If you have a better idea, let's hear it."
"How about I sue his sorry ass and you testify in my behalf," she hotly shot back as she turned her scathing gaze on him. "Do I need to remind you the Fair Employment Act is a federal statue, that supersedes Wentworth or any other employer from-?"
"For God's sake Liz, he asked your husband how he felt about you handling a murder case; he didn't have his hand down your blouse!"
"Of course he didn't," she said in the same calm, deadly steady voice that had her professional trademark. It was a voice that McCoy knew well enough to know he'd gone too far to hope that the most heartfelt of apologies would begin to repair the damage done by his frustrated outburst. "Isn't that one of the old boy rules? Not to take what belongs to another man?"
"Damn it Elizabeth, even if you took it to court, all you have is circumstantial evidence. I mean, the man assigned the case to you!"
"Only because you told him you'd allow me to take it! For all intensive purposes, you own me every bit as much as you own that bike of yours," she continued with a coldness that made it impossible for him to suppress his own outrage.
"This is about Wentworth being a dinosaur; don't make it about us. If you want to sue him, call Danielle Melnick and I'll back you up a hundred percent. You'll not only finish your own career if you challenge Wentworth in court, we'll both look like an idiots when the case gets thrown out for lack of evidence. But you'll have your five minutes of fame for the sake of the sisterhood. To hell with your career, to hell with my career; to hell with how we'll provide for a child you never wanted in the first place!"
"Oh God Jack, you really said that," Brooke McCoy asked as she exchanged his empty tumbler for a steamy cup of coffee.
"I really said that and more," he admitted to his current wife as she joined him on the sofa. "Brooke, you're a decade younger than Liz. By the time you started practicing; enforcement of the Equal Employment Act was much more vigorous. At the time of the Creswell case, Liz's career would have ended before it had a chance to take off if she'd gone through with that lawsuit."
"I don't doubt that. But one; the battle isn't over for equity in the workplace, trust me. Two," she contined with a knowing half-smile on her lips, "diverting Liz's attention with that kind of a personal attack must have cost you both dearly."
"It was an ugly truth I had no business throwing in her face."
Brooke studied the face that's deceptively indifferent expression told her how much regret the revelations of a night, so many years earlier continued to hold for him. Although they had never discussed the circumstances surrounded the conception of McCoy's daughter, Brooke had seen the dates of McCoy's two previous marriages listed on their own application for a marriage license. She knew Rebecca McCoy had been born less than a year after he had married Elizabeth Donnelly. Up until McCoy's unexpected revelation, she had assumed the timing had come from poor planning due to the limited effectiveness of the birth control devices available at the time. Such a unplanned event would naturally invoke shock and surprise for both spouses, but Brooke found it difficult to image either of Rebecca's parents truly unhappy about her early arrival in their lives.
Even with her own mistimed pregnancy, it was mere panic that had fleetingly made Brooke think McCoy would be anything but thrilled at the prospect of impeding fatherhood. Panic that, once she looked into the reassuring gaze her husband's eyes held, was quickly chalked up to nothing more than her own uncertainties.
But his words, followed by an unusually long gap of silence, as well as the almost unreadable expression plastered to his face, left no doubt in Brooke's mind that her husband's brief disclosure was but a small but significant piece in the puzzle that was his first marriage.
"It was an ugly thing to say, but I've seen both of you with Becky. It's obvious how much she's loved by both you and her mother. You were both young when she was born, Jack. No matter how either of you felt at the time, you've both more than made up for any doubts you might have had in the beginning."
"We were both scared to death and too stubborn to admit it, even to ourselves," he said with a regretful sigh. "We knew the morning after we began our honeymoon… God Brooke… at the time it just seemed inconceivable. No pun intended," he continued with an ironic half smile. "We'd talked about children long before the wedding. We both agreed the sensible thing was to wait a few years. At least until Liz had made a name for herself. But fate had other ideas."
"Fate usually does," she said with a quiet chuckle that caused McCoy's smile to widened, as he met the large blue eyes that continued to eye him with compassion. "I mean, look at us and all the stops and starts. Sometimes for the good; sometimes not so good. But we've dealt with them. Just as I'm sure you and Liz dealt with having Becky. I know you think you owe Liz something, but-"
"I don't think. I know I owe here, Brooke. I watched Elizabeth not only go through hell with that case when she was prosecuting it, but for years after Creswell blindsided her by escaping."
"Escaping? That sounds like an NYPD failing, not something anyone could blame Liz for."
"You don't understand. Liz had her brought to her office after Creswell wrote her for help."
"For help?'
"Yeah. Bottom line is, Caroline Creswell played Liz and escaped out a bathroom window. Even after Wentworth retired and Adam Schiff took over as DA, when a rookie screwed up, most of the old timers still called it 'doing a Donnelly'. It wasn't until Nora Levin made her Bureau Chief that that crap finally died a natural death."
"That's inexcusable, Jack. But it doesn't mean you have to put your neck on the chopping block, just to try to right a thirty year old wrong."
"Damn it Brooke, I wish you'd have enough faith in me to stop worrying about Donald Shalvoy for five minutes," he snapped as he impatiently stood and turned towards the window. "I'm going to do what I think is right and if Shalvoy wants to come after me, let him."
Brooke heaved a silent sigh as she brought her knees to her chest, in an effort to resist going to her husband's side. She had learned from bitter experience that it was best to give McCoy his space when her concern and what she saw as his male pride clashed over Donald Shalvoy.
Although her common sense told her McCoy was right, Brooke couldn't completely shake the feeling the other proverbail shoe was about to drop, when it came to the governor and his vendetta against her husband. In part her fear was a remnant from the effects of terminating her pregnancy several months earlier. Ever since the couple had given up any hope of having a child together, Brooke had found herself almost compulsively concerned about the well being of her husband.
Logically, she knew Jack McCoy was more than capable of dealing with whatever obstacle blocked his path, especially his career path. But after the Excalibur affair ended with Shalvoy smelling like a rose and her husband's name in the infamous clubs reservation book, Brooke had feared the worst was coming for McCoy and his re-election campaign.
"If this is about doing what's right, I think you may have neglected to consider something or should I say someone?"
"Brooke, I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. But if this is about Shalvoy, you have to trust me and just-"
"I do trust you and this has nothing to do with the governor," she replied as McCoy turned from the window to face her. "It has to do with trampling over a ADA in your office to make this personal vindication of yours fly."
