Chapter 10

“Dearest, I’m so very sorry about the other night.” The voice on the other end of my phone was obviously Charles, and he sounded sincere.

“Well...” I hedged, not sure I was ready to forgive him. I was sitting in a small park a few blocks from the courthouse, finishing my lunch: a cup of yogurt and an apple. It was a sunny day, but not too hot—a rarity in Tampa—and I had been having a perfectly good day before he called. “I’m sorry too, I guess,” I said at last, tossing my empty yogurt container in the nearby trash can.

“I mean, I should’ve trusted your judgment. And it was ridiculous of me to be so jealous. He’s just your brother, after all, even if you aren’t really related by blood.”

I felt my face color, remembering the way Richard had held me and kissed me that first night. Just my brother indeed. Then why did my heart skip a beat every time he touched me? But I pushed the thought away and tried to concentrate on what Charles was saying.

“I was thinking about a double date. My cousin, Ursula, is going to be in town this coming Friday—she’ll be staying with the family until the wedding—and I thought you and I could take both she and Richard out to dinner. Wouldn’t that be lovely?”

“Ah...yes, lovely,” I said reluctantly. “But listen, Charles, let me run it by Richard first and see what he thinks. I don’t want to set him up on a blind date without asking him first.”

“Of course, of course. Whatever you think is best, my dear.” His voice was light and airy, and for the first time, I wondered if he had been drinking. Unlike some men who got angry or mean when they had a few too many, Charles became almost pathologically agreeable. Would he sober up and be sorry he had extended the olive branch?

“Look, Charles, I’m going to be late for court. Can we talk about this later?”

“As long as we talk.” He sounded more serious now—maybe he wasn’t drunk after all. “These past several weeks have been absolutely intolerable, Rachel. I need you in my life. We’re going to be married in a little over two weeks, for Christ’s sake. Please don’t shut me out.”

“Oh, Charles.” I was truly touched this time. It was a fact that I had made no effort to call him in the week and a half following our catastrophic fight in the downtown PD. I had decided that if he wanted me back, he could damn well make the first move himself. It was a good thing my future mother-in-law was handling every aspect of our impending wedding but the gown, which was hanging like a white, plastic-wrapped ghost in the back of my hall closet, because I hadn’t even spared it a thought. And I hadn’t exactly been sitting around waiting for the phone to ring either—I had other things on my mind besides my pouting fiancé.

For one thing, Richard was still staying with me even though he had been cleared of all charges. Both of the supposed ‘witnesses’ had recanted their statements, a fact that had surprised no one very much. Neither of them had been very credible in the first place, and it was likely that their new pimp, whoever he was, didn’t want them involved with an open homicide investigation. So the case was closed, but Richard stayed. Frankly, I didn’t want him to go. Not yet, and if I listened to the whispers of my heart, maybe not ever.

“I know you’re in a hurry, but just think about it and let me know. Ursula has grown into quite a lovely young lady, and I’m sure Richard would fancy her.”

“I’m sure,” I said noncommittally. The fact that Charles was on the phone, offering to set Richard up with his own flesh and blood told me two things: one, he had checked out my adopted brother’s background and found out that he was wealthy, and two, that he already knew that Richard had been cleared of the charges that had landed him in my lap well over a week ago. The fact that Richard could now leave and yet hadn’t weighed heavily in the air between us, but neither of us said anything about it.

“Well...I love you.” Charles’ voice sounded slightly uncertain. I decided to let him off the hook.

“I love you too,” I said, as sincerely as I could. “Talk to you soon about Friday night. Just let me run it by Richard first.”

“Of course. Later, Darling.” He hung up, leaving me with a vague uneasiness I couldn’t understand. Two weeks to go until my wedding and until Charles had called me, I had almost managed to forget about it completely. That didn’t seem normal at all, but maybe I just had a lot on my mind.

I stood up and grabbed my briefcase. The courthouse was just a few blocks from the park and I was looking forward to the walk. I was about to shove my cell phone back in my purse when it chimed again. The caller id showed my home number—Richard then. He’d been working out of the house on his latest consulting job, redesigning the communications system for a major bank in the Tampa Bay area.

I answered the phone with considerably more enthusiasm this time. “Hi, Richard.” I could hear the smile in my voice and I knew he could too.

“Hi, is this the phone of the big-shot attorney?” His tone was teasing but his voice was as deep as dark chocolate.

“Close,” I replied, laughing. “You’ve reached the phone of the lowest-ranked ADA, will that do?”

“I guess it’ll have to do for now. Listen, I just called to see what time you’ll be home for dinner. I don’t want my latest masterpiece to get cold.”

I groaned. “Richard, if you keep cooking for me I’ll be as big as a blimp.” He’d been buying groceries and making dinner and breakfast for me for almost two weeks now, and he showed no sign of getting tired of it. Personally, I couldn’t cook to save my life, but Richard was excellent at it.

He laughed. “What are you talking about? You eat like a bird~.”~

“A bird that weighs a ton,” I said, beginning the walk to the courthouse. “What’s on the menu at Chez Kemet tonight, anyway?”

“Kobe beef stirfry with fresh snap peas and portobello mushrooms. You’re going to love it,” he promised.

“Richard, that sounds like so much work,” I protested. “You don’t have to fix a gourmet meal every night, you know.”

“Who said anything about gourmet?” he asked. “It’s quick, simple, and easy. If you get home in time, I’ll teach you how to make it yourself.”

“Oh, no, buster. You’re not domesticating me,” I said, rounding the corner that led to the courthouse. I could see the proud old granite building rising tall before me—the sight always gave me a little surge of pride. Hokey, I know, but I’m a sentimental kind of girl. Richard’s next words drove all thoughts of the courthouse out of my mind, though.

“That’s exactly what I’m hoping to do—domesticate you.” His voice was soft and completely devoid of all joking. I felt a tremble somewhere inside my chest. Every once in a while he would come out with a statement like this and it always left me feeling uncertain and somehow adrift.

“Well, it’s not going to happen,” I said jokingly, after an uncomfortable pause that lasted longer than it should have. “Your little sister is not a domestic kind of girl. Besides, if I could cook as well as you, I’d have to give up practicing law and become a chef. Listen,” I hurried on, wanting to get over the awkward patch in our conversation. “Charles finally called me to apologize and he had a suggestion. He wants us to all get together Friday on a double date. He’s bringing his cousin Ursula and she’s supposed to be very pretty. You interested?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, and I could feel him trying and discarding different replies to what I had proposed. Finally, he said, “Can we talk about it tonight after dinner? I feel like...well, remember the thing I wanted to talk to you about the first night I was at your house?”

“Yes.” I felt a lump rise in my throat for some reason. Why did I automatically assume that whatever he had to tell me would be bad or hard to hear?

He took a deep breath. “Well, I’d like to tell you tonight. I think it’s time.”

“Okay,” I said, through numb lips. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can talk it out, Richard.”

“Hey, don’t sound so upset. I promise I won’t bite—I just want to talk. Think of it as the show that goes with your gourmet dinner.” The light teasing tone in his voice made me smile with relief. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a big deal after all.

“All right. Well, if things don’t go crazy and nothing pops up at the last minute, I should be home around seven. But I’ll try to call if I’m going to be late. Okay?”

“Okay. I’ll let you go then.”

“Bye,” I said, about to snap the phone shut, but his voice stopped me.

“Hey, Rache?”

“Yeah?”

“Love you. Can’t wait to see you.”

“I love you too, Richard,” I said softly. It didn’t occur to me that the words came much more naturally to my lips than they had ten minutes before when I was talking to my fiancé. And if it had occurred to me, I don’t know if I would have cared.

I snapped the phone shut at last and was mounting the steps in front of the courthouse when Detective Marks nudged my arm.

“Hey, I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last half block.” She was breathing a little heavily, her round cheeks pink with exertion. “But you were way into that phone conversation—didn’t even look up when I shouted your name.”

“Hello, Genevieve.” I smiled at her, glad to see a friendly face. “You ready for the Ginelli case? It’s your turn on the stand today, isn’t it?”

She grimaced. “And how—man, what a pain in the ass.”

“You better ~watch~ your ass if Ginelli’s tied with Momo the shark,” I warned her.

“What, or I’ll sleep with the fishes?” She gave me a crooked grin. “I don’t think so. Besides, Ginelli’s a little fish—no way we could tie him to Momo. I only wish, but no, this is purely a shit detail.” She sighed. “Just wish I had somebody to brighten my day like you.”

“What do you mean?” I looked at her as we entered the courthouse, sincerely confused.

She gestured to my face. “You’re practically glowing, and you have this little smile in the corners of your mouth that just won’t quit. You and Charlie boy must have made up, huh?”

“Well, actually, yes. But just before I met you, I was talking to my brother,” I said, before I realized how strange it sounded. “I mean—he’s making chicken stir-fry tonight and, well...he’s a really good cook,” I trailed off lamely.

“So he’s still with you?” Genevieve looked at me directly, a little frown in her gray eyes.

“Well, sure. I mean, we’re still catching up. We hadn’t seen each other in—”

“I know, I know—seventeen years. It just seems to me that a man who’s been implicated in a homicide and then told he’s free to go would get the hell out of Dodge pretty quick. Don’t you think?”

“Not an ~innocent~ man,” I said stiffly, disliking the turn the conversation had taken.

Genevieve shook her bushy head. “It doesn’t strike you as strange at all that he’s hanging around?”

“No,” I said. “Look, I really need to go. I’m going to be late for court.”

“Okay, all right.” She held up her hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you, Kemet. You’re my friend, that’s all. I worry about my friends.”

“Well, your worries are unfounded,” I snapped. “Richard hasn’t murdered me in my bed yet, and I’m not expecting him to any time soon. Now, if you’ll excuse me...” We had reached the entrance to my appointed courtroom, and I nodded curtly at her before closing the heavy wooden door in her face with a muted bang.