a/n: (In my most lovely singing voice) I feel rusty, oh so rusty! lol Let's get this crazy train chugging again, shall we?
What A Lovely Way to Burn
Chapter Ten
"Monday?" Ben asked into the phone. "Come on, Mike. Can't you, you know, do me a solid and send them sooner? Overnight them?"
"First of all, I am doing you a solid; I'm pulling these documents for you," Mike answered. "Secondly, I am one man, Ben. This is going to take some time. There's a lot of shit to go through."
"Right," Ben sighed. "Sorry." He gently tapped a knuckle on the kitchen countertop.
"Look, if I can get them to you sooner, I will. Just do me a favor and don't hold your breath. 'Kay?"
"Yeah. Thanks, Mike." Ben ended the call and gently dropped the phone on the counter. Moving to a window on the far side of the living room, he released a slow breath. "How is it still raining?" he asked quietly. He lifted a finger and traced the path of a small stream of water trickling down the outside of the glass. The weather seemed to reflect his mood, continually darkening as it worked towards its gloomiest state. The more he considered the likelihood of Matt Harper's involvement in the fires and the deaths of the defendants, the more he doubted his suspicions towards his friend. The more he doubted his suspicions, the more he doubted his doubts. The possibilities spun around in his head until his convictions no longer separated black and white but in a failed moment allowed the sides to blend into an ugly puddle of grey.
Ben leaned his forehead against the window, the coolness of the glass tingling across his forehead. He had represented his fair share of shady people over the years. They were not people with whom he personally associated; they were simply clients, a means to an end. They were the providers of the money that lined his pockets, the money helping him build his empire. There had been a time when Ben believed the company he kept during off hours better than that of his shifty regulars, but a decimated heart and the deceit of an old, dear friend forced his eyes open. Maybe the betrayal brought by two of the most important people in his life was the reason he was so quick to suspect ill of Matt. Maybe Matt was yet another in a line of wake-up calls. How many more would present the dark side of their masks?
Looking down at his hand, Ben flexed his fingers. He pushed off the window and frowned as he studied the smooth skin across his palm. Marked emotionally by the pain others had caused, he was not marked physically. Unlike Kate Reed, who bore the disfigurement of his failed apology. There would have been no need for Ben to extend an apology had he not been so quick to issue a low blow, igniting two stubborn personalities. Though Kate had offered her appreciation every time he had attended to the dressings over the previous two days, he was unsure of whether or not she had forgiven him. Nevertheless, hearing Kate say the words or seeing the sentiment in her eyes, Ben could not accept her forgiveness until he suffered through the impossible task of forgiving himself.
!#$%
"Two o'clock," Kate said, tossing her phone on the coffee table. "Slept through lunch." She slowly slipped her legs off the front of the couch, adjusting the blanket around her shoulders as she moved. Drained from the new information on the fires and the excitement of returning home, she had mustered just enough energy to unpack before the previous night's rounds of tequila shots moved to the front of her mind in the form of a nagging headache. Leaning her elbows on her knees, she pressed the heels of her palms into her closed eyes. The pain of the headache forgotten, her mind now focused on the remnants of her dreams, desperate to cling to the quickly fading images. She tightened the blanket around her body, blocking out everything but the affection offered in fancied slumber. Kate could feel the warm arms that wrapped around her waist, the cool sheets that covered her shoulders, the tender kiss placed along temple, but she could not see the face of the man that embraced her. "Doesn't matter," she muttered. "It's not real." Dropping the blanket from her shoulders, Kate stood and stretched, and wandered to the terrace doors. She pulled the curtains away from the glass and frowned. "Rain, rain, go away," she whispered, touching the pads of her fingers against the cold glass. Hearing a soft knock at the door, Kate sighed and dropped her arm back to her side. She moved to the entry and opened the door.
"You just don't give up, do you?" she mumbled as she narrowed her eyes.
"So, a dyslexic walks into a bra," Ben started.
"Wow. Was that supposed to be funny?" she asked. "'Cause it's not."
"Come on," he whined with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "That was hilarious." Kate pursed her lips and shook her head.
"Sorry, Benedict. 'A' for effort though. Why are you here this time?"
"Wanna go for a ride?"
"Gross."
"Okay, first of all, that's not what I meant," he said sternly. "And, secondly…" He held a hand over his chest and pouted. "Ouch."
"So if you're not here to get your flirt on—"
"My flirt is always on around you, Katie," he interrupted.
"What do you want?" she asked impatiently.
"Are you all right?" he asked genuinely as he pushed through the doorway. "You look a little…flushed." He waved a hand over his face as he pulled her a few steps into the apartment.
"I, uh, I'm fine," she answered. "I was just…I just woke up." He closed the door and nodded.
"And how is this?" Ben lifted Kate's hand.
"It doesn't hurt anymore," she offered with a weak smile. "It is kind of itchy, though."
"Well, that means it's healing." He rubbed his thumb along the back of her hand. "Katie, I'm so—"
"Stop apologizing," she ordered, pulling her hand away. "It wasn't your fault."
"Do the bandages need to be changed again?"
"No. I changed them before I…I took my nap." She smiled sheepishly. He gave her a disbelieving look and took her hand again, scrutinizing the wrapping.
"Huh." Kate bit back a bubble of laughter at the high-pitched squeak of his voice. "This doesn't look half bad. This means you were actually listening to me when I explained the whole wrapping process."
"Ah, yes, I do listen to you." She shrugged. "Every now and then."
"Good." He smiled and released her hand. "So you were napping. Did you have good dreams? On account of the being flushed," he added with a cocky smile.
"For crying out loud. You can go."
"I think you and I need to talk about this bi-polar attitude you have towards me, Katie."
"What?" she laughed.
"You're hot and cold, Katie. Hot last night, cold this morning." He stepped in front of her. "Time to be hot, again," he stated with a suggestive rise of his eyebrows. "Really hot."
"You're unbelievable."
"Can't blame a guy for trying, can you?" He slipped his hands into his pants pockets. "Since you're so good at listening to me lately, come over for supper tonight. Spend the night with me."
"Your pick-up lines are really getting rusty, Benedict."
"I'm serious, Katie," he frowned. "I don't really like the idea of you being here alone tonight."
"You're doing that whole trying to protect me thing again, Benny Boy."
"It always has to be about you, doesn't it?" He folded his arms across his chest. "There could be more fire starters out there," he explained. "And if one of them starts my place on fire, I want someone around to wake my ass up and get me out safely."
"Go. Now."
"Or if I was to, say, spend the night here and someone were to start your apartment on fire, well, you could get me out safely in that scenario, too."
"Out."
!#$%
Justin entered the small, corner restaurant and lifted a hand to wipe a few stray raindrops from his forehead. He looked around the room, finding his predecessor at a booth on the far side of the establishment. Davidson's arms rested on the table, nervously tapping on the old, varnished surface, his gaze directed towards a menu. With a sigh, Justin made his way through the maze of tables.
"I swear, Aaron," he scolded with a shake of his head, taking a seat in the booth across the table from Davidson. "If I'm here for more pointers on how to run the DA's office…"
"We have two months, Justin," Davidson said passively, stilling the tapping of his fingers. "Plenty of time to cover all of the bases."
"Then what's this all about?"
"I'm concerned about these fires." Justin tilted his head to the side.
"Huh. Just…all of a sudden?"
"Believe it or not, I can and do care when bad things happen to good people, Justin."
"Yeah," he scoffed.
"You know, I agreed with your assessment that the fires at Lauren's and Judge Mason's houses were a warning. I believe that the fire at your apartment was thrown in there, you know, for good measure. And I believe that there will be more victims."
"But the police have two suspects in custody," Justin argued.
"No," Davidson said, dropping his eyes to the menu. "They were released a couple of hours ago."
"Released? Why?"
"They have an alibi. They were in your building visiting their uncle."
"Visiting their uncle. Come on, Aaron."
"Well, this so-called uncle confirmed it." He looked at Justin. "The police have no grounds to keep them in holding. No solid evidence of their involvement." Justin leaned back into the booth.
"What about the burns they suffered?"
"They were the only ones hurt in the fire but that's not proof of their guilt." Justin released a frustrated sigh.
"All right, so…more victims," he nodded. "You took over the case. Do you think you're the next target?" Davidson took a deep breath.
"I was going to address this with you earlier today, but I didn't feel it necessary to air our dirty laundry in front of the others."
"Dirty laundry?"
"You told me that you had enlisted Grogan's help with the Jefferson case."
"I did," Justin replied slowly.
"And I thought that was a wonderful idea. Way to think outside the box, Justin."
"Aaron," he warned.
"Why didn't you tell me that Harper was going to pay us a visit?"
"I didn't…I didn't know he was going to do that." He frowned. "I thought you set up all of that."
"I did not." Davidson ran a hand over his eyes. "Harper showed up at the station this morning, introduced himself. He said Grogan had requested his help."
"He asked for Harper's help," Justin nodded. "But only as far as information on Jefferson's previous trial."
"You're sure he didn't ask Harper to come here."
"I am," he answered. "In fact, we talked about it this morning when we were looking…uh, when we-we left the station. Grogan was surprised to see Harper." Davidson moved from his position, his fingers sliding along the worn edges of the menu as he leaned slightly over the table. "Aaron, what's going on?"
"About an hour or so after you and the Reed and Reed crew left the police station, Harper received a phone call. He answered it but quickly moved into the hallway, presumably for some privacy. Long story short, what I heard…" He shook his head. "There's a situation Harper feels he needs to deal with. I also heard him mention Grogan's name." He frowned. "Now, I didn't hear the entire conversation so it's possible he was just talking about being in San Francisco, helping Grogan."
"But," Justin prompted.
"Something in his inflection, the way he spoke…"
"You think Grogan is the next target." Davidson answered Justin's question with a pointed look.
"This isn't a surprise to you," he stated.
"I need to know everything Harper has said to you, everything the two of you have talked about. Then I'll tell you what I know." He fished his phone from his pants pocket. "Then," he said, placing the phone on the table to accentuate his point, "we need to call to Grogan."
!#$%
"Hot and cold," Kate mumbled as she paced in front of the fireplace. "Hot and cold." She stilled, eyes focusing on the Chinese take-out menu displayed on top of the coffee table. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she thoughtfully drummed her fingers over her elbows. "Hot and cold, hot and cold, hot and cold. Fine, Benedict. You want hot…" She pulled the items off the table. "Then hot is what you'll get."
!#$%
Ben stared up at the ceiling, trying to numb his mind to any thought that dare enter. His feet were comfortably elevated on the arm of the sofa, his head on the cushion on the opposite side. He twirled a small, rubber basketball between his fingers, tossing it from one hand to the other, occasionally tossing it into the air. He needed to be patient, to wait in turn for Mike to send the documents. He needed to remain calm if not for his own sake than that of Kate's. Her normal tendency to blow things out of proportion would only compromise the safety of everyone involved with the Jefferson case. She would not doubt confront Matt, on her own, and if Matt was truly responsible…
Ben had no desire to be the catalyst to Kate's demise.
Hearing his cell phone ring, he turned his head towards the coffee table and grabbed the phone. Noting Justin's name on the caller ID, he frowned.
"Ben Grogan," he said with a sigh as he answered the call.
"Are you fucking stupid?"
"And what a pleasure it is to speak with you, too, Justin," he replied, a touch of a smile to his voice.
"What happened to staying at the hotel? Why the hell did you go home?" Ben frowned.
"You know that I'm home?"
"Davidson told me. Come on, Grogan," Justin chided. "With everything you suspect, did you really think it was a good idea to listen to Harper?"
"I did not and still do not think it's a good idea, Patrick. But Kate was very adamant about leaving the hotel and since my suspicions are still unconfirmed and are supposed to be just between you and me…"
"Whatever," Justin sighed. "Where's Kate right now?"
"She's safely ensconced in her apartment. Don't worry, Justin," Ben smiled. "I'm taking very good care of her."
"Davidson shared some information with me that you need to hear," Justin started, choosing to ignore Ben's comment.
"What kind of information?" Ben dropped his feet to the floor and sat up straight.
"The bad kind." Ben closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You need to tell us everything you now about Harper. Where should we meet?"
"My place," he answered.
"Are you sure that's safe?"
"Kate has made it very clear that she's not leaving her apartment. And I'm not leaving her here alone."
"All right. Aaron and I will be there in ten."
"Don't forget the beer and…" He pulled the phone from his ear as a quiet click signaled the end of the call. "Pizza," he muttered, frowning as he looked at the phone. Placing it on the table, he leaned his elbows on his knees, rested his chin on folded hands and nervously bounced his right leg. "Bad news," he sighed. If Justin was willingly involving Davidson in their suspicions, then "bad news" was the understatement of the century. The screen on the cell phone lit up as the unit began to vibrate. Picking up the phone, Ben selected the option to read the incoming text message. "Come see me," the message read. "Katie, Katie, Katie," he said with a shake of his head. "What are you up to now?" Obeying the text, he left his apartment and quickly closed the short distance to Kate's. Pocketing his phone, he knocked gently on the door. "I have arrived as beckoned," he stated with a smile as Kate opened the door.
"Come in, Ben," she said, stepping to the side to allow him room to enter. "I have a surprise for you,' she smiled as he passed.
"I like surprises."
"Good." Kate closed the door and moved to stand in front of Ben, giving him opportunity to take in her clothing. The short, black skirt she sported was nothing new to him. Truth told, he secretly enjoyed the days she wore the skirt to work. Maybe not so secretly, he thought, as there had been a few times Kate caught him in a rather long admiration of the article of clothing. The ivory top, however, was something new. And something incredible. The top two buttons were open, revealing just enough skin to keep Ben from caring about the rest of the garment.
"I ordered take-out," she started, pulling Ben from his reverie. "I'm accepting your offer of dinner. But my treat this time."
"Okay," he said slowly.
"And," she said, placing her hands on his hips, "I have decided that your idea of…spending the night together was a very good idea."
"To save…each other. In case of a fire. Right?" he squeaked.
"Oh, there will be a fire, Benedict," she whispered, stepping into him. "Hot or cold, you wanted me to pick one. And I pick 'hot'." She pushed up on her toes, lifted her chin and pressed a kiss to his lips.
"Katie," he breathed. "Don't think that I don't want this. Because I do." She settled herself on her toes, leaning against Ben's body for support as she kissed him again. "I really do." He paused for a third kiss. "But your timing…really sucks, Katie." He lifted his arms, wrapping them around her body as she continued to press herself against him.
"It doesn't seem that way to me," she mused, recognizing the barely controllable want in his eyes. "Stay," she whispered.
"Katherine," he warned lightly.
"Benedict," she countered quietly. "I don't want to be scared. I don't want to hide. Stay," she repeated. He lifted his hand and brushed her hair over her shoulder.
"I can't. Not…not right now." Kate frowned and stepped back, sliding out of his hold. "Katie."
"Don't. Don't." She moved to the kitchen, keeping her back to him as she rested her hands against the countertop. "You should go."
"Katie, please, let me explain."
"Go," she said over her shoulder. Reluctantly, Ben turned towards the door. He reached for the knob, stilling in mid-motion as he heard a knock from the other side.
"Were you expecting someone else?" he joked. Kate sent him an irritated glare as she brushed past him.
"It's the take-out, Idiot," she explained, reaching for the doorknob. Forcing a pleasant smile, she roughly turned the knob and pulled back the door. Her smile fell as she took in the two men waiting in the hall. "Justin? Aaron? What a-are…"
"We're here to see Ben," Justin explained. "Though this isn't where I expected to meet you." Kate turned to Ben, eyebrow raised.
"I told you, Katie," he shrugged. "Your timing sucks."
a/n: Thank you for all of the prayers and kind thoughts that I have received over the last six months. All of the warm fuzzies have helped in healing my heart : )