-1Hey Guys,
Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed so far!
Chapter Nine
August 25th 0800
He woke slowly, the incessant hammering against his front door finally penetrating through the haze surrounding him. He rolled over in bed, his temples throbbing, wishing that whoever was outside would take the hint and leave, reaching out for her….
She was gone, her side of the bed empty and cold, the scent of her perfume clinging to his sheets and his pillows like a memory.
The hammering continued, pounding against his door.
Jim groaned and forced himself to get out of bed, stumbling towards the door, his stomach lurching with every step he took, nausea twisting inside his gut like a living thing. "Just a second!" His voice cracked and scratched, barbed wire lining his throat.
How much had he had to drink?
He stumbled through the living room of his apartment, the empty bottle and two glasses standing in mute testament to the night before. The rim of one of the glasses was rimmed with her lipstick.
His stomach turned again, disturbed by the thought of alcohol. He pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping to clear his still throbbing head, his mouth tasting of alcohol and cigarettes.
He remembered lighting a cigarette for her. Remembered tasting it later, on her lips.
He opened the door. "Alex?"
She stood outside his apartment, carelessly dressed, her hair still messy from sleep, a folded newspaper under her arm. She took one look at his dishevelled appearance and swept past him, her stride quick and angry.
"Wont you come in?" He closed the door after her, running a hand across his face, scratching at his unshaven jaw. "What's going on?"
It was the first time in years he had seen her without her mask, stripped bare of what she pretended to be.
The first time in months he had seen her without her engagement ring.
She thrust the paper at him with a shaking hand. "You want to explain this to me?"
Jim took one look at the headline and groaned, covering his face with his hand.
Julie Phelps had played him again.
xxxXXXxxx
August 20th
He smiled when they led him into the room. "Hey sis!"
"Hey." Jessica hesitated for just a second, then stood and embraced her brother, not caring that the CO was still there, could see them. Somehow, keeping her job separate from her family didn't seem to matter any more. "Are you okay?"
Jason shrugged, sitting down opposite her, an odd smile on his face. "Bout as okay as I can be."
She had been here so many times, but never like this, never in this situation. "You want a drink or something?"
He shrugged again. "Coke would be good."
She glanced at the CO, trying to make her voice as hard and as cold as she could. "Can we get a coke here?"
Jason waited until the guard left the room. "How's Ma doing?"
"Okay." Jessica lowered her voice, feeling like a child, whispering secrets in the dark. "They released her to my custody last night."
"What are we going to do?"
"I've hired an attorney. To represent you and Ma."
He shook his head. "I cant afford that, Jess. Just make sure.."
"Doesn't matter."
"Jess…"
"I said it doesn't matter. You're my brother, Jason. I'm not going to leave you here, not because of that bastard. Just give me some time. I'll take care of everything."
xxxXXXxx
August 25th
Bright sunshine woke her the day after her father's funeral, peeking through the curtains, caressing her face with its light and warmth. She couldn't decide if she found the gesture mocking or not.
She rolled over in bed, resting her cheek against her folded hands, letting the warmth of the early morning sun seep into her bones.
The first day since the funeral. The first day since…
Everything had changed.
She had spent so long, building walls around herself, building walls to keep her family and her jobs separate. She hadn't wanted Jim to see what her family had been like, didn't want to see the sympathy in Christina's eyes, didn't want to see the understanding in Brian's.
Definitely didn't want Alex fucking Cabot to know, to have something else to use, something else to make her feel inadequate.
But he…he didn't care. Didn't care about appearances, didn't care what it looked like. He didn't care about the walls she'd tried so hard to build around herself. It didn't matter to him.
And maybe it didn't matter to her anymore, either.
xxxXXXxxx
August 3rd
Did he know about it? Had he found it? Had he moved it? Was it his?
Joanna pulled open the drawer, sighing in relief as she moved the clothes away. It was still there, lying undisturbed, black and evil, coiled and waiting. Just where she had left it.
She glanced warily over her shoulder and lifted it out of the drawer. Slipping into a firing stance, just like she had seen the cops do on TV.
It felt lighter than it had done yesterday. Easier to aim, to control. Her finger tightened involuntarily around the trigger and she had to fight against the urge to squeeze it tight.
Easier to fire
Would it be easy to shoot him?
Would she be able to pull the trigger?
Maybe things would get better. Maybe this time, if he saw she was serious, he really would change.
Maybe this time…maybe this time, she'd be able to escape.
Her hand shaking, she put it back into the drawer, covering it over again. Giving the clothes a last lingering pat. Unable to stop herself smiling.
She pushed the drawer closed and walked out of the room.
She knew where it was if she needed it.
xxxXXXxxx
August 25th
"Oh shit." Jim let the newspaper fall onto the table, almost knocking over the lipstick smeared glass. He sank onto the couch, covering his face with his hands, his headache pounding fiercely. "Shit. Shit."
"She played you, Jim." Alex sat down next to him, lifting the Post again, scanning the headline article. "Again."
"I know."
"Deputy District Attorney Jim Steele admitted that the case against Joanna Rossi should not have been allowed to go to trial and that he believed a political agenda, rather than a desire for justice, was motivating the District Attorney's Office." Alex threw the paper down. "This is bad, Jim."
"I know."
"This is the last thing we need at the minute, after the….after what happened. We cant afford any more negative publicity."
"I know." Despite himself, Jim lifted the paper, reading through the article again, every word searing through his brain. "I'll take care of it."
She'd played him. Set him up and played him for a fool. And he'd fallen for it, like a drunken, lovesick fool.
"You'd better. There's more at stake than just this case." Alex fell silent, chewing nervously on her lip. "Offer a deal."
"I've already offered a deal. She rejected it."
"Offer a better one."
"There's no point, Alexandra. We're on the ropes." His eyes fell on the picture of Joanna Rossi at her husband's funeral, flanked and supported by her children. "And she knows it."
Alex rose to her feet, her eyes dark and cold, almost unreadable behind her glasses. "Then you'd better hope you can beat her in court."
xxxXXXxxx
"You're working late tonight."
Julie looked up, her pen hovering above the page. "Just making sure I'm prepared."
Sam Reid walked into her office. "I've got some of that information for you, Julie." Pulling out a notebook, flicking carefully through it. "Lead detectives are John Clarke Jnr and Baldwin Jones."
"Anything on them?"
"Clarke was the subject of an IIB probe a year or so ago. Unlicensed CI." Sam shrugged. "He came out clean. Jones has a few notes in his record about excessive force. One investigation into a shooting in Queens. Came out as accidental."
Julie nodded, biting her lip as she thought. "What about the CSIs?"
"Danny Messer and Lindsay Monroe. Messer has connections to Tanglewood. Monroe has nothing in New York, but I'm looking into her Montana record." Sam closed the notebook and shrugged again. "That's it."
"Good work, Sam." Julie leaned back in her chair, smiling. "I saw the Post this morning."
Sam laughed as she stood, tucking her notebook back inside her jacket. "I know a guy there who owed me a favour." She looked at Julie's desk, at the statements and case photos scattered about it. "They're taking it to court, then?"
Julie nodded. "Monday."
End of Chapter Nine
Please Read and Review.