(See the first chapter for disclaimer, notes, spoiler, etc.)

Chapter 25: "Nearest to Heaven"

Harris crossed her arms and stared through the glass. Her eyes narrowed, a slight glint hardening the chocolate brown irises. There was a sharp intake of breath as she met Gregory's gaze, begetting a crackle of energy that passed between them. The harsh light from overhead shone bright, revealing every menacing crack of Gregory's glare. His eyes pierced hers with such an intensity that she momentarily forgot the window was two-way.

Behind her, Morales cleared his throat and announced, "Their lawyer arrived."

Her eyebrow arched as she leaned against the glass, meeting Gregory's dare. "One lawyer for both of them?" she asked softly, searching his face for any measure of the calm she found on their first meeting.

"No, the lawyer is for him, but I think he's just a time delay." Harris turned around as Morales continued, "I'll throw down my overtime that our cool customer is going to represent himself and then his wife."

There was a flash of white teeth as she smirked and looked over her shoulder. "Who didn't see that coming?"

They chuckled as Gregory turned away from the mirror, leaning over the table. He bowed his head reverently as if he stood before a gilded altar. "Do you think it was wise bringing them down?" Morales asked.

"Definitely." She cocked her head, watching Gregory as he looked up slowly and turned back to the mirror. "Let's just see if we can rattle him a bit."

Morales moved next to her, sighing heavily as they looked into the interrogation room. "Well, we've got his pregnant wife in A and him in B. The old divide-and-conquer. It shouldn't take long."

"We'll see."

Olivia looked up as the door opened slowly and Harris stepped into the room. She turned away, folding her hands on the surface of the table as the detective took the seat across from her. "Your lawyer just arrived," Harris said as she opened a file and looked down. "He'll be along in just a moment and then we'll get started."

"With what?" Olivia hissed. "I have nothing to say."

Her angry words hung in the silence and Harris closed the case file slowly. "It really shouldn't take more than a few minutes and then we can get you home. I understand you have a little girl." That got her attention. Olivia's blue eyes flickered to Harris as she bit the corner of her lip. "I'm sure you're anxious to get back to her."

She nodded, shifting on the uncomfortable plastic chair. When she looked away again, Harris stood and walked around the table. "I am sorry," she began, leaning against the wall with her arms against her chest, "that we had to bring you down for this." Olivia stiffened and watched her out the corner of her eye. "I know it's not the most pleasant of places, especially for a woman in your condition."

"No, it's not."

Harris smirked, drawing her into conversation. The gentle approach always worked like a charm. "Is there anything you need while we wait? A glass of water maybe?" Olivia shook her head and Harris stepped closer. "To be honest, we're just wasting time now." She pulled the chair around and sat directly next to Olivia, their knees touching as she leaned in. "You answer my questions and you're all done."

Olivia turned, a reply dancing on her lips as she fidgeted. It was there, Harris saw. Right on the tip of her tongue. But a fine chain held her back, restraining her cooperation like an unruly child. "My partner, Detective Morales, is in with your husband right now." The blue eyes flashed hopefully and Harris went in for the kill. "We'll be done with him shortly and then you can both go home to your daughter."

She smiled, patience masking her triumph as Olivia turned to her. "What do you need to know?"

"Are you sure you don't want to wait for your attorney? You are entitled…" Olivia shook her head and Harris glanced at the mirror, nodding quickly to the people behind it. Verbal consent was all they needed.

"Get on with it," Olivia sighed.

She smiled, patience masking her triumph as she said, "You've been here long enough, so I'm just going to get right to the point."

"Please do."

"Did you know that your husband was having an affair with Cashlin Russell?" Harris watched the other woman stiffen and heard the sharp intake of breath. "Mrs. Richards?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"When did you find out?"

"A week or so before Christmas."

Harris couldn't help but wince as Olivia's shoulders slumped. She sat quietly for a moment, wondering how it would feel to learn that Donald had been unfaithful. A shiver swept through her and she glanced down at the simple gold band on her left hand, not able to comprehend that level of betrayal. "Did the news come as a surprise?"

The dark head lifted slowly as if manipulated by fine strings. As she turned, Harris found herself looking up for the master that controlled his puppet. "No," she snapped, glaring at the detective, "it was more like a bloody shock."

She nodded, changing courses as a rush of blood flushed in Olivia's neck. "What was your husband's relationship with Nancy McCarthy?"

"His secretary?" Olivia asked slowly as confusion rippled across her face.

Harris nodded. "Did their relationship go beyond the bounds of professionalism?"

She sucked in her breath and her head went back as if she had been struck. "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Quite," she replied coldly.

She sat back, crossing one leg over the other as she began, "Mrs. Richards, you and your husband were guests at the masquerade ball last night. I understand that Mrs. Russell put on quite a show at your expense. You must have been quite upset, not to mention-"

A numb feeling swept through Olivia as she listened vaguely to the detective. The horror of last night was revived and brought back to the present as a sick feeling rose in her throat. "Wouldn't you be?" she whispered.

"You and your husband left the ball before midnight. Where did you go?"

"Home."

"And after that?"

"Nowhere."

"You and your husband went home and stayed home?"

Fury burned in Olivia's eyes as she looked up quickly. "Yes."

"All night?"

"Yes."

Harris nodded, pursing her lips as she tapped her fingers on the table. "Mrs. Richards, have you heard of obstruction of justice?" She watched as Olivia met her eyes, locking gazes for a long moment. "I'm sure that as the wife of a criminal defense attorney, it's something you're at least a little familiar with."

"I'm not a lawyer."

"And I'm not a film studies professor, but I'm sure I can go into great detail about Hitchcock's use of the McGuffin." She paused for a breath as Olivia squared her shoulders defiantly. "When did we become so well-versed in the business of our husbands?"

"I assume," Olivia began after a long moment, "that your question is rhetorical."

Harris' brain screamed insistently as she sat back, nodding slowly. She was too confident, too defiant. "Mrs. Richards, the penal code is clear on matters of obstruction of justice." She waited until she had her attention, until the cloak of defiance fell from her. "Impeding our investigation by providing a false alibi is extremely serious. If we find out that you are lying about your husband's whereabouts last night, you are facing a 50,000 fine and jail time."

"Jail?" Olivia scoffed, the tremor in her hand belying the armor of impenetrable defense as her head swam. She breathed deep and fanned herself with her hand as she shifted under the hot light.

"Yes, Mrs. Richards, jail. Up to five years." She plunged ahead as Olivia's shoulders collapsed and her head hung, loose waves of dark chestnut falling in her face. "You'll serve time for obstruction of justice as your husband faces murder charges. And even though they're from a considerably higher tax bracket than other children in the same situation, your daughter and unborn child will go to foster care. As convicted felons, the State may not be so willing to agree to visitation." Harris leaned close as Olivia exhaled sharply and her confidence of earlier dissipated in an unruly puff of smoke. "You will lose your children. So, I'm going to ask you again, Mrs. Richards, was your husband home all night?"

"Yes," she whispered weakly as she broke out in a cold sweat and a high-pitched ring filled her ears. She swallowed hard, choking back the bile that rose in her throat as her skin crawled to no end.

"Mrs. Richards?" Harris asked as Olivia paled quickly, the color draining from her face like sand in an hourglass. She jumped up, the chair clattering behind her as she pounded quickly on the two-way mirror. She ran to the door and flung it open, shouting into the hall, "I need a medic!"

Footsteps thundered down the hall as she dashed back to Olivia, catching her as she slid out of the chair. Her legs hit the floor with a sickening thud as Harris cradled her in her arms. "Mrs. Richards!" she shouted, smacking her cheek lightly. "Olivia!"

A uniformed officer hurried into the room with a large case and skidded to the floor. "Bus is on the way. What happened?"

A block of ice settled in Harris' stomach as she answered, "I was questioning her and she passed out." She cupped Olivia's head in her lap, watching as the officer held a capsule beneath her nose and broke it. It was another several seconds before Olivia coughed violently and she opened her eyes, flooding Harris with relief.

The officer turned around, facing the small crowd that congregated in the doorway of Interrogation Room A. "Give us some air- and someone bring water!"

Harris leaned down, struggling for words as she whispered in Olivia's ear, "Lie still, Mrs. Richards." Glassy blue eyes looked up at her, struggling to blink. "You're going to be alright."

Olivia's hand brushed against Harris' and she gripped her thumb weakly. "Gregory," she murmured, wincing as her vision came into focus and the overhead light burned her eyes.

"I'll get him," she promised as a bellow echoed from the hallway.

"WHERE IS MY WIFE?"

The crowd at the door parted like the Red Sea and Harris' head flew up as Gregory burst into the room. She moved aside as he dropped to the floor, reaching for his wife. "Olivia?" he asked, cupping her face as she looked up slowly. "Liv?"

"Gre-"

He hushed her, scooping her into his arms as he held her close. "Don't move." He ran his hand over her head and down the length of her arm.

"I'm fine," she mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut as the room spun. "Really."

Gregory looked down at his wife with a smile of such tenderness that it killed Harris' breath dead in her throat. It was a brief moment, frozen in time that ended a beat later when he looked up at her and growled, "What happened?"

Harris opened her mouth, scrambling for a reply as Olivia moaned softly. "Dizzy," she whispered as she shivered within Gregory's arms.

The detective stood, rubbing her palms anxiously against her thighs. With a quickness that could be confused with nervousness, she backed away from the couple on the floor. The corner of the room became her sanctuary as Morales appeared at her side. "Jeez, Harris. I thought you were just going to rattle him a bit?"

My hand fluttered to the phone, skipping over the buttons as I held the handset to my ear. The droning ring echoes endlessly and I close my eyes, gasping in excitement. "Finally," I whisper.

She thought she could replace me. She thought she could be me. Both of them did.

Cashlin learned the hard way. So would she.

I stand quickly, moving across the room to the bottle of scotch. His favorite. My hand lovingly caresses the neck of the bottle as the phone continues to ring.

No one came close to matching the level of affection we shared. He was mine and I was his.

Forever.

The ringing came to an abrupt end and the breath caught in my throat as a woman said, "Hello?"

I slam the phone down quickly, the handset colliding with the receiver in a pitiful clatter. It wasn't him.

He wasn't there.

Gregory clasped Olivia's hand and leaned forward as Dr. Robinson lowered his stethoscope. "Well," he asked, "how are we feeling, Mrs. Richards?"

"Tired," she admitted with a small gasp.

A frown wrinkled across the doctor's face as he watched her carefully. "Are you having trouble breathing?"

She shook her head as Gregory tightened his hand around hers. "I just can't catch my breath."

Dr. Robinson nodded thoughtfully as he beckoned the nurse over. They turned away, whispering unintelligibly as Olivia looked to Gregory. He lifted her hand, pressing it gently to his lips. With a heavy sigh, he rested his hand on the crest of her stomach and looked deep into her eyes. Exhaustion clouded them, nearly drowning the fear that swam in the blue depths. And it was him she looked at, him she turned to. A thought entered his mind and he looked up suddenly. "Do you remember that time we drove up the coast?"

She shrugged, sighing heavily as she said, "What about it?"

He inched closer, hooking his arm through hers as he squeezed her hand gently. "It was such a beautiful day you insisted I take the top down." Her hand twitched within his and he patted it comfortingly. "The warm sun, the wind rushing through your hair, the scent of the sea…you said it was the nearest to heaven you had ever been."

She nodded gently, losing herself to his soothing whisper. "Yes," she murmured as a whimsical smile danced on her lips.

"We stopped along the way, at that old Spanish mission and-"

"The flowers," she interrupted with a small gasp. He watched her with a small smile as she closed her eyes dreamily. "The field of flowers."

Memories flickered like an old film, flashing in the darkness behind her eyes. The sun held the meadow in a golden embrace, the flowers dancing in the breeze beneath her outstretched hand. His palms against her back and his eyes, promising forever as she cupped his face. The distant sound of church bells from the mission as he held her close, their lips pressed together in a symphony of flora.

"That day…," she sighed, breathing deep. Yesterday echoed with an abundance of peace and she recaptured it, holding it close. Her face softened to a glow, a streak of warmth in the cold hospital room.

He covered her hand with both of his, a protective embrace as Dr. Robinson cleared his throat. They looked up as the doctor returned to the opposite side of the bed. "Mrs. Richards," he said simply, "I'd like to place you on bed rest for the next ten days." The doctor watched their faces, complacency giving way to uncertainty. "You'll be confined to your bed for the entire time; under no circumstances do I want you up."

"But-" Olivia began.

"Mrs. Richards," he interrupted, "your blood pressure is simply too high. You have entered the range where it is now a threat to your pregnancy." He watched her carefully, his eyes lowering. "Given your history, I feel that this is the best course of action and in ten days, we'll have a follow-up exam. Hopefully, by then, things will have changed."

A tense silence filled the room and Gregory cleared his throat, looking up at the doctor. "Is there a medication-"

"There is, but I'd prefer to use it as a last resort. Let's see how these next ten days go." Dr. Robinson smiled down at Olivia, who sat quietly in the bed. "You are under strict orders to take it easy."

Gregory stood as the doctor turned to leave, willing life back to his heavy legs. "I'll be right back," he whispered to Olivia, following the doctor out of the room. "Doctor?"

Dr. Robinson turned, nodding to the nurse who stepped away. "Mr. Richards?"

They stepped into a corner, drawing seclusion around them with their hushed voices. "High blood pressure?" he asked. "That's all?"

"For now." The simple statement throbbed between them, shuddering with all that remained unsaid. "We can still get her blood pressure back under control."

"And if you can't?"

His mouth set and he shook his head. "We will cross that bridge when, and if, we come to it."

Gregory's hands went deep into his pockets with a frustrated sigh. He looked away, guilt rising in his throat. "Have you seen the news today?"

The doctor nodded, following Gregory down the dark corridor of reality. "You'll need to keep all of that away from her," he advised quietly. "No matter what, Mr. Richards."

Olivia leaned back, sinking into the mountain of pillows. "Ten days," she muttered beneath her breath as Gregory drew the covers over her.

"It'll be over before you know it."

Her eyes closed as he turned off the lights and climbed in next to her. "I suppose." She glanced over as he beat the pillow into submission. "What did you and Dr. Robinson talk about?"

He rolled to his side, watching her carefully. "You. About how to get your blood pressure down."

She nodded, curling against him as his arm went around her. Exhaustion overwhelmed her and she fought against heavy eyes as she listened to his breathing. "I shouldn't have spoken to the detective without you."

He gripped her closer, hushing her softly. "I'll deal with that in the morning."

Swallowing hard, she whispered, "I told her that you were home all night."

He met her eyes and shadows howled from the corners of the room as he asked slowly, "You what?"

She frowned against the strain in his question and squeezed his hand. "I was trying to protect-"

"Liv, you lied to the police." She fidgeted against him and he exhaled deeply, his mind racing. "Why would you do that?"

Her hand slipped from his as her eyes narrowed. "Because you're not a murderer," she sighed, as if it was the simplest quintet in the world. Her lips parted as she gasped and she turned her eyes to the expanse of the ceiling. "And at the moment, I'm probably the only person in town who believes that."

An uncomfortable pressure settled on his chest as he watched her breathing heavily. The tears in her eyes caught the moonlight and his own throat tightened. Thought died and reason left him as the enormity of her actions sunk in. She lied. She lied for him. "Liv-" he began, struggling to force the syllable from his mouth.

"How much trouble will I be in if they find out?" she asked softly.

He reached out tentatively, wrapping his arm around her as he drew her close. "They won't," he whispered in her ear, closing his eyes. "I promise you, they won't."

Her breath shook her whole body as she brushed a tear from her cheek. "Don't promise me."

"They won't find out," he insisted. "They've got no evidence of anything."

His strong declarations washed over her, waiting for the comfort that usually followed. It didn't come, leaving her with a painfully hollow feeling. As a newfound void opened within her, she turned her face away and murmured, "I hope not."