For the People Chapter 22

Three months later

Rick sets a still warm container of linguine with meat sauce in front of Kate and hands her a deluxe paper napkin. "In the home stretch now, aren't you? Isn't Donnellan on his last witness?"

"Yeah, he is," Kate confirms, poking at her pasta with a plastic fork. "I'll be doing the cross. And then unless he springs a surprise on us, we should be going to closings."

"You don't seem very excited about it. The linguine is from Finelli's. I thought it would put some extra spring in your step."

"I'm sure the pasta's great. I'm just not that hungry."

"You didn't eat much breakfast this morning either," Rick notes. "What's wrong?"

"I'm scared."

"Of doing your closing?"

"Yes," Kate admits. "It could be the most important one I do in my life."

Rick reaches up to stroke her cheek. "But it's more than your closing, isn't it?"

Kate presses her face into his hand. "If Bracken wins, if the jury comes back not guilty, that's it. No more chances. We charged Bracken with everything we could. If we lose, double jeopardy attaches to all of it. There's no appeal, nothing left to dig up. It's over."

"But it's also all over if you triumph, Kate. The reason for the obsession that's driven your entire adult life will be gone. So, what's more frightening, losing or winning?"

"Dr. Burke asked me the same question before I started the trial," Kate confides. "Back then, I told him it was losing. Now I'm not sure. When this trial's over, will kicking ass for generic justice be enough?"

"There's no such thing as generic justice, Kate," Rick insists. "With all the interviews I've done for my books, that's one thing I know. Every victim has a story: hopes, dreams, ambitions, people who love them. They all deserve the best. And who better to give it to them than the formidable Kate Beckett? And there was something else we said we'd talk about when this trial is over. You gave me a rain check."

Pressing her lips together, Kate nods. "Having kids. I remember. And we will talk. I promise."

"Good." With a Han Solo smile, Rick opens a small cardboard box. "So if you don't want the pasta, how about a cannoli? Lena Finelli made them fresh right before I picked up my order."

"If Lena went to that much trouble, I think I can manage one – or two."

Four weeks later

With the courtroom buzzing after the jury's foreperson announces guilty verdicts on all charges, Judge Kitteridge bangs her gavel. "I'll have order! Madam foreperson, so say you one, so say you all?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Very well," Kitteridge responds. "I want to thank the jury for your extraordinary service. I know it's been a very long haul and you're eager to return to your homes and families. You're dismissed. The defendant will be remanded back to Attica. The sentencing hearing on all charges will commence on March 30. Defense and prosecution should be prepared to submit any sentencing motions at or prior to that date. Court adjourned."

As the sound of the gavel rings through the room again, Shapiro nods approvingly. "Well done, Beckett. You have a great career ahead of you. You could be taking over my office someday."

Kate shakes herself out of a partial stupor. "Thank you, Sir. But right now I just want to duck the press enough to get out of here and make it home."

"I'll handle the press," Shapiro promises. "I can use our victory as leverage to wring more money out of the city for our budget. Use the rear exit. Most of the reporters will be clustered out front. And take a couple of days off. You deserve them."

"Thank you, Sir, I will."


Kate leans against the warmth of Rick's chest as they lie together on the couch, listening to the snap of the flames in the fireplace. "Aside from lusting after our remaining triple chocolate celebration brownies, what are you thinking?" he inquires.

"That it's time to let you redeem your raincheck. Actually, it's a little past time."

He pushes up against the pillows. "What exactly are you talking about?"

"While you were making breakfast this morning, I took a test."

"A test for wha – you mean a pregnancy test?"

"Uh-huh. You know how irregular my periods are when I'm under pressure, so I didn't think anything about being late, but I missed two months. I didn't really believe I was pregnant. I feel fine. But it came up positive."

"Are you sure?"

"I went to see Lanie today. She ran the test they do on blood instead of pee. She confirmed what it said on the stick. I'm pregnant."

"How far along?"

"She said the hormone levels can't determine that for sure, maybe as much as three months. And my regular GYN doesn't do OB. So I made an appointment with one Lanie knows and said is great. But I can't get in until next week. I'm hoping I'll find out then."

"But you're healthy, right?"

"Lanie checked my vitals. I don't have high blood pressure or anything. So she thinks I'm OK, but the OB should take a better look."

"Well, that explains why you've been passing on coffee all day – and the increase in your already impressive love of pickles. I'd suggest breaking out some Champagne, but we can't because you're pregnant."

"You can drink anything you want." Kate points out.

Rick vigorously shakes his head. "It wouldn't be fair. If you can't enjoy an alcoholic high, I won't either. I don't know about coffee though."

Kate plays with Rick's earlobe. "If I can't drink it, then I can at least enjoy smelling yours."

"Are we still talking about coffee?" Rick inquires.

"For the moment."

"So how about more of those triple chocolate brownies?"

"Sold."


Kate gazes at the stack of files on her desk at the DA's office. It's a new desk, with a blessedly more comfortable chair, in a new office. She's no longer at the bottom of the heap. Shapiro's managed to acquire two ADAs more junior than she is. The Baird and Bracken cases also elevated her status considerably. The question now is, how long will that be the case?

The disability laws guarantee that her pregnancy can't make her the object of discrimination. However, once the baby is born, and possibly before, if necessary, she'll be taking more than a couple of days off. That's never much of a career booster. Her new office has room for a little fridge, and she can pump milk. She's close enough to home to be with the baby for some time before work, and she'll be home as much as possible in the evenings. And Rick is done with book tours for a while, so he'll mostly be a stay-at-home dad. They've worked all of that out already.

But to Kate, scheduling will be the easy part. She still has no idea how to be a mother. While some of her friends were earning their spending money babysitting, she was working at a motorcycle garage, learning the ropes and saving up for her Harley. As far as she can recall, she's never even changed a diaper. Rick assured her that she'll pick up what she needs to know the way he did. But Rick's inner child seems to work as a magnet for kids. At cons, at book signings, they all, even the babies seem to love him. They're either indifferent to Kate or occasionally burst out crying in her face. Rick says kids can smell fear. She's beginning to believe it, and right now she's a lot more afraid of what she'll do with a baby than she was before her first trial. Damn! She'll get over it. She has to.