Body of Evidence

With thanks to our editor, Ann Leslie Tuttle, who was buried in e-mail during this challenging project

Dear Reader,

It was a privilege to work with two such talented authors on this project, and the three of us were e-mailing back and forth in a frenzy to be certain that our descriptions and details matched.

As Evan and Jennifer became living, breathing people to me, I could feel Evan’s frustration as he waited, and hoped, for the evidence that would convict Lyle Gardner. But despite Evan’s dedication to his career, Jennifer staked a claim on his heart. Beautiful, spunky Jennifer, with her precious secret she feared to share with Evan, and who was also dedicated to her unique career, had the womanly wisdom to know there was room for so much more in her life.

While writing this book, I learned so much about what goes on behind the scenes as each step is taken to ensure that justice will be the victor when a horrendous crime has been committed.

We all owe a heartfelt thanks to the men and women in every area of law enforcement who make these troubled times in our world safer for all of us.

I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I did writing it. I am very eager to read the first two stories in the collection now that they are completed. As you are curled up in the corner of your sofa turning the pages, know I’m doing the same right along with you.

Once again, I want to thank all of you for your continued support through the years and for the wonderful letters you take the time to write to me.

Warmest regards,

Chapter 1

J ennifer Anderson stopped in the hallway on the top floor of the courthouse and turned to look up at the very tall young man who had a camera balanced on his shoulder.

“Take a break, Sticks,” Jennifer said. “I’m going to attempt to make some sense of these notes of mine while I remember what the scribbling means. Meet me in the lounge down the hall in half an hour or so.”

“Yep,” Sticks said, then ambled away.

Jennifer entered the empty lounge and sank onto one of the chairs that surrounded a large rectangular table. She propped one elbow on the top of the table, rested her chin in her hand and closed her eyes.

Oh, gracious, she thought, she was sleepy. She’d like nothing better than to curl up on the lumpy-looking sofa on the back wall of the lounge and take a nap. If she allowed herself to relax for even three seconds she’d nod off. Just one…two…

Jennifer jerked and opened her eyes as she began to drift off. She patted her cheeks, told herself she was wide-awake and looked at the notes.

Next on the agenda, she thought, was to film the final footage of the documentary, which meant it was time to glue herself to District Attorney Evan Stone.

Evan, Evan, Evan.

Dear heaven, what would Evan do, say, if he knew that she…

“Don’t go there, Jennifer,” she mumbled. “Not now.”

Jennifer glanced at her watch, got to her feet, then smoothed the hem of her green sweater over the black slacks she wore with low-heeled, black shoes.

Okay, here I go, she thought. She’d put this meeting with Evan off for as long as she could, had filmed so much footage of police detectives, and secretaries and assistant district attorneys it was ridiculous. She’d been gathering her courage to see Evan again and be able to act pleasant and professional.

“I can do this,” she said, starting across the lounge.

“Do what?” Sticks said, appearing in the doorway.

“Oh. Listen, Sticks, just hang out in here for now. I need to find out if Evan Stone is available, then chat with him a bit about how we’re going to do this.”

“Whatever.”

“Fine. Okay,” she said. “I’m going down the hall to his office now. Yep, that’s what I’m doing. Right now. Bye.” Jennifer didn’t move.

“You’re acting weird.”

“I am not,” she said, indignantly. “I’m…mulling over how to begin my conversation with Evan. He wasn’t exactly receptive to this idea of a documentary on the inner workings of the district attorney’s office, said D.A. being him. We ironed out the wrinkles three months ago, but there’s no telling how he might feel about it weeks later.”

“Ah, go for it.” Sticks set the camera on the table. “Charm the socks off the guy.”

“Right,” Jennifer said, then stepped out of the lounge and into the hallway.

At that exact moment the door to Evan’s office at the end of the corridor opened and a plump young woman emerged, leaving Evan framed in the doorway as she walked away.

Oh, my, Jennifer thought, there he was. There was Evan about a hundred feet down the hall and it appeared as though he was staring directly at her.

Feet. She had to move her feet, put one in front of the other, and produce a nice friendly smile at the same time. She could do this. No, she couldn’t. She was going to turn around and hightail it out of there, never to be seen again.

“Get a grip,” she said, under her breath, and started forward.

There she was, Evan thought, as he watched Jennifer approach very slowly. His heart was beating like a bongo drum, damn it. And was that…? Yes, it was. There was a trickle of sweat running down his chest. Where in the hell was this nonsense coming from?

Evan cleared his throat, causing Belinda Morris, his fifty-two-year-old secretary, to turn and look at him questioningly, then shift her gaze to what he was staring at.

“Oh-h-h,” Belinda said, smiling. “So the time has come. I’ve had the pleasure of speaking with Jennifer Anderson already. She’s delightful. You could be a gentleman and meet her halfway, you know.”

“What’s gentlemanly about that?”

“Well, you’re standing there like the king of the hill, or something. It would be a tad warmer, more friendly, if you at least gave the appearance of welcoming her to your office, indicate that you’re delighted to see her again. You did tell me it had been three months since you made her acquaintance.”

“I’m not delighted to see her again,” Evan said, in a loud whisper. “I’m in the middle of a very important, high-profile case that is about to go to trial, if you’ll recall, and I don’t have time for this documentary stuff.”

But here comes Jennifer Anderson, he thought. She was getting closer, and closer and…

Jennifer covered the remaining twenty feet separating her from Evan, then stopped, immediately switching her gaze to his secretary.

“Hello, Belinda. How are you?”

“Fine, just fine. And you?”

I’m falling apart by inches, Belinda, Jennifer thought. I didn’t know it would be this difficult to see Evan again but…

“Hello, Jennifer,” Evan said quietly.

Jennifer drew a steadying breath that she hoped wasn’t noticeable, then slowly turned her head to meet Evan’s gaze.

“Evan,” she said, hating the squeaky little noise that was passing itself off as her voice.

“Did you want to see me?”

“Yes, if you’re free,” she managed to say.

“Come in,” he said, stepping back. “Belinda, please hold my calls.”

“You betcha, boss. Just close that door and I’ll make certain that no one disturbs the two of you…sir.”

“You can be replaced, you know,” Evan said, pointing a finger at her.

“Don’t be silly. You couldn’t run this office without me. Go right on in, Jennifer.”

Jennifer walked past Evan, catching the faint aroma of his woodsy aftershave. She heard him close the door behind him, the quiet click seeming more like an explosion. Sinking gratefully onto one of the chairs facing Evan’s desk, she crossed her legs, squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.

Evan went around the desk and sat down on the butter-soft leather chair. His office was large, boasting a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. Bookcases lined another wall and a grouping of a love seat and two easy chairs was off to one side.

How was it possible, he thought, that Jennifer was even more lovely now than she had been three months ago before she left for California on that assignment?

Her shoulder-length black hair seemed to glisten, those incredible green eyes were sparkling emeralds, and there was a radiance about her, a glow, or some such thing. Oh, for crying out loud, Stone, knock it off.

“I hear you’ve been busy around here,” Evan said, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen.

“Yes. Yes, I have.” Jennifer nodded. “Sticks and I…Sticks is my cameraman…have filmed a great deal of footage here in the courthouse and over at the police station. Everyone has been very cooperative, which certainly makes my job easier. Yes, it certainly does.

“We filmed the empty courtroom downstairs where the case you’re taking to trial soon will be held. I thought that might have a dramatic effect. You know, show the empty jury seats, the judge’s bench, the table where the defendant will sit, what have you, with an over-voice to emphasize that while that room is silent now it will soon hold many people and a man’s future will be decided within those four walls.

“I must say, Evan, that you certainly granted my request and then some. Do you remember me saying it would add a real punch to my documentary if you were involved in a high-profile case by the time I got here? And bingo…they don’t get bigger than the Gardner case. Chicago is buzzing about it. You can’t pick up a newspaper or catch the news on television without hearing about…I think I’m babbling.”

“I think you are, too. Are you uncomfortable seeing me again, Jennifer?”

“Are you uncomfortable seeing me?”

“I asked you first.” Evan frowned and shook his head. “That sounded like something a kid in elementary school would say.”

“All right, yes,” Jennifer said, averting her gaze and picking an imaginary thread from her slacks. “I’m a tad nervous about seeing you again, Evan, because there’s no erasing what happened between us, what should not have happened. I just don’t want you to think that I make a practice of… There’s no point in discussing this.”

“No, there isn’t any point in discussing it. Except I want you to know that I certainly don’t think less of you because of what took place. My behavior was out of character for me, too. Let’s agree that our mutual respect is still intact.”

“My, my,” Jennifer said, an edge to her voice, “aren’t we just so civilized and sophisticated? We made a mistake but, hey, it’s old news so forget it.”

Evan frowned. “What would you have me say?”

“I’m sorry.” Jennifer sighed. “It’s just not an easy subject for me to discuss. What you said was fine, very nice, and I appreciate it.” She paused. “Let’s get on with why I’m here, shall we?”

“Yes, here you are,” Evan said, “and the fact that I am in the midst of a high-profile case prompts me to ask you to finish your documentary after the Gardner trial is completed.”

“What?” Jennifer said, leaning forward. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Look,” Evan said, folding his arms on the top of the desk, “I’m putting in very long, high-stress days getting ready for this trial. The last thing I need is a camera in my face and you taking notes, or recording, every little thing I do and say.”

“But…”

“Let me finish,” he said, raising one hand. “I know that you and I agreed that I had final approval on the documentary before it’s aired. Dandy. But in the meantime you and this Sticks guy might hear something that could demolish my case if it got out. I don’t want to run that kind of risk.”

“You don’t trust me?” Jennifer said, splaying one hand on her chest, then slouching back in the chair. “That’s insulting, it really is. I’m a professional, Evan, not some kid who has just been assigned her first story to cover. Give me some credit here.”

“I’m not saying I don’t trust you,” he said, his voice rising. “But slip-ups happen. You and your cameraman might be discussing something you filmed in this office and it could be overheard by the wrong person. I repeat…I don’t want to run that kind of risk.”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Jennifer said. “What the papers and anchormen are reporting. You have a shaky case against Lyle Gardner, circumstantial evidence that you somehow have to convince a jury is enough to convict him of killing his brother. If you had a heavy-duty, solid case against him, you wouldn’t be so concerned about loose lips sinking ships, or however that goes.”

“Hell, what do you want from me?” Evan said. “Do you think I’m going to allow you to film me saying something like ‘This is a weak case with a bunch of circumstantial evidence, but if I get lucky I can still send the bum up the river’? Give me a break. And for heaven’s sake keep what I just said confidential. I’m going with ‘no comment’ with all reporters who snag me regarding the evidence I have against Lyle Gardner. I’m attempting to give the impression that I have more than I do, Jennifer.

“I can count on one hand the number of people who know the details of my case against Gardner. I sure as hell don’t feel like adding a photojournalist and a cameraman to that list.”

“Well, I’m afraid you don’t have any choice in the matter, Mr. Stone,” Jennifer said, narrowing her eyes. “I’m here to do my job and you’ll just have to trust me, like it or not. If you think you can put me on the back burner until this trial is over, why don’t you call the mayor and tell him that you’re going to change a dynamite documentary into vanilla pudding.

“Go ahead. Pick up the telephone and call him. Maybe he’ll order us to go out to dinner and settle our differences like he did three months ago and…” Jennifer’s voice trailed off, and a warm flush crept onto her cheeks.

“And we not only settled our differences about the documentary,” Evan said quietly, looking directly at her, “we ended the evening by making love.”

“Yes. Well. We agreed not to discuss that further at this point.”

“Meaning there will be a point that we’ll discuss it further?” Evan said, raising his eyebrows.

“Don’t push me, Evan. I am not going to postpone finishing this documentary until after the Gardner trial. That’s it. Bottom line.”

“You,” Evan said, pointing a finger at her, “are a pain in the neck.”

“And you,” Jennifer shot back, “are being rude. Evan, you were hopping mad three months ago that any kind of documentary was going to be done about you and this office. The mayor wants this film for positive public relations.

“You and I compromised back then with my agreeing to allow you to give final approval on the film, and you agreed to cooperate when I returned from California and got rolling on this. You can’t change your mind about the whole thing now.” Jennifer paused. “We’re not doing very well here.”

Evan sighed and ran one hand over the back of his neck. “No, we’re not, and you’re holding all the cards. If I talk to the mayor about postponing your being here, he’ll blow a fuse. I’m stuck with you.”

“That,” Jennifer said, jumping to her feet, “is the most demeaning thing I have ever heard and…Whew.” She pressed one hand to her forehead and sank back onto the chair.

“What’s wrong?” Evan said, rising and coming around the front of the desk. “You’re white as a sheet all of a sudden.”

“I just got up too fast, that’s all. I was dizzy for a second there, but I’m fine now.”

“Do you want a glass of water? Some soda? Orange juice?”

“No, no,” she said, waving one hand in the air. “I’m okay. Really. You can go back and sit down in your chair now. I don’t need you hovering over me like you are. So close…and…hovering…like that.”

“I suppose you know,” Evan said, still hovering, “that the sweater you’re wearing matches your eyes to perfection.” He nodded. “Of course, you do.”

“Is that a crime?” she said, glaring at him. “Are you going to arrest me?”

“No, but you reap what you sow. Pick the sweater, pay the price.”

And with that, Evan gripped Jennifer’s upper arms, hauled her to her feet and kissed her.

Jennifer’s eyes widened in shock, then in the next instant her lashes drifted down and she wrapped her arms around Evan’s back and returned the searing kiss in total abandonment.

Oh, dear heaven, she thought, she’d been waiting three long months for this. For Evan. She remembered every exquisite detail, every overwhelming sensation, of making love with Evan Stone. It had been like nothing she had ever experienced before and…

But it had been wrong, wrong, wrong, should not have taken place. They’d only known each other for a handful of hours back then and…

Evan raised his head a fraction of an inch to draw a rough breath, then slanted his mouth in the opposite direction and captured Jennifer’s lips once again, drinking in the taste of her, savoring.

Three months, his mind hummed. An eternity, that’s what it had been, waiting for this kiss. But he wanted more. He wanted to make love with Jennifer again. Now. Right now.

Ah, hell. They had been near-strangers when they’d made love, should never have let things go that far, so out of control, and here he was again, falling under Jennifer’s spell and… No.

Evan broke the kiss, inched Jennifer away from his aroused body, then lowered her back onto her chair. She blinked, shook her head slightly, then took a wobbly breath.

“Oh…my…goodness,” she said.

Evan marched around his desk, sank onto the chair, and dragged both hands down his face.

“That was dumb,” he said, his voice gritty with passion. “Really stupid. And it won’t happen again.”

Well, phooey, Jennifer thought, rather hazily, why not? That kiss had been sensational, absolutely wonderful. Oh, Jennifer, get it together. It was wrong, wrong, wrong.

“We’re going to be working very closely together during the next couple of weeks,” Evan said, “and I can’t afford to be distracted from having total concentration on this pending trial. Is that clear? Therefore, I’m going to do everything within my power to pretend you aren’t there, close, next to me and…Are you getting this? As far as I’m concerned you’ll be invisible.”

“I…”

“And one other thing,” he went on. “Don’t wear that sweater again.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Jennifer said, rolling her eyes heavenward. “This is ridiculous.”

“No. This is dangerous. You took part in those kisses we just shared, Jennifer. Totally. This…whatever it is…between us didn’t diminish in the time we’ve been apart. But I cannot, and will not, allow anything, or anyone, to keep me from concentrating fully on this case.”

“No, of course, not. I understand.” Jennifer nodded. “You really believe that Lyle Gardner is guilty of killing his brother, don’t you? And you’re worried that you won’t be able to prove it with the evidence you have. This is me, Jennifer, asking you this, Evan, not Jennifer Anderson the film journalist.”

Evan hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Yes, I’m worried that Gardner is going to get off.”

“But everyone I’ve interviewed for the film believes that he’s guilty. I spoke with those two detectives who handled the case. Colin Waters and Darien Wilson, right? They are both adamant about Lyle Gardner’s guilt.

“I also interviewed Maggie Sutter, who gathered forensic evidence at the scene for the investigation. She’s convinced that Lyle killed his younger brother but…”

“But we’re missing the last piece to the puzzle,” Evan said wearily. “The evidence that would make it possible for me to feel confident I can get a guilty verdict from the jury. We’re not giving up. Waters and Wilson are putting in grueling days trying to find what we need, and I’m going over every shred of evidence we do have, time and again.”

“You all must be exhausted.”

“We are, but there’s no getting around the fact that all the defense has to do is establish reasonable doubt, while I have to prove without a doubt that he did it. If I can’t do that, he walks. Lyle Gardner will stroll out of that courtroom a free man and he’s guilty as sin. I know it. I feel it. I’m just not certain that I can prove it.”

Chapter 2

T hat evening Jennifer sat curled up in the corner of the sofa in her apartment with a mug of hot tea. Her hair was still damp from a long, soothing shower and she was wearing her favorite old chenille robe that had once been a bright blue but was now a rather faded, dingy gray.

Her notebook was propped on the arm of the sofa and she was transferring her notes onto the legal pad on her lap, adding more details and impressions.

No wonder Evan was concerned about the outcome of the trial that was rapidly approaching, she thought, staring into space. The case was complex with a myriad of players in the drama.

And no wonder the press was everywhere, hoping for any details they could add to their daily reports to the public. The Gardner family, one of the icons of Chicago, had been toppled in a wave of scandalous disgrace to the delight of the sensation-seeking citizens of the windy city.

The murdered man, Franklin Gardner, had been a highly visible member of the socially prominent and civic-minded family. Franklin, along with his brother Lyle and mother Cecelia, were continually lauded for their generous donations of time and money as they supported fund-raising events for a multitude of charities.

“The mighty have fallen,” Jennifer said aloud.

And in disgrace, she mentally tacked on. The investigation of Franklin ’s murder had revealed a dark side to the man. He’d been involved in a horrendous operation that kidnapped pretty young girls and sold them to an overseas prostitution ring.

“Unbelievable,” Jennifer whispered, then flipped to the next page in the notebook.

How diabolically slick the whole thing had been, she mused. Gardner money helped support halfway houses and shelters in the city that Franklin often and understandably visited on behalf of his family.

It was there that he selected his victims, then arranged for Desmond Reicher, a business associate, to proposition the girls and bring them to the buyer. Franklin made certain that he selected only runaways, which resulted in the belief that the girls had once again decided to disappear.

Reicher had been arrested, was considered a flight risk and was in jail with no bail granted as he awaited trial. He adamantly denied any guilt in the murder of Franklin Gardner, and the detectives on the case believed him. Why would Reicher kill the golden goose in the form of Franklin Gardner? Without Franklin, Reicher’s steady stream of money would be cut off. No, Desmond Reicher had not killed Franklin Gardner.

The detectives had shifted their attention to Lyle, Franklin ’s older brother. His alibi at the time of the murder was flimsy…he was home alone watching television. Also, the medical examiner had determined that Franklin had been murdered by someone who was left-handed. Lyle was left-handed. Reicher was right-handed.

The detectives were also going on their gut instincts, feeling the smiling, albeit haughty facade that Lyle presented was phony, covering up the truth he refused to reveal.

They didn’t believe for one second that Lyle was surprised and devastated by the brutal death of his brother and the truth of what Franklin had been involved in.

The autopsy of Franklin ’s body had shown that in addition to stab wounds, apparently from an ice pick, Franklin had also received blows to his face. The bruises there indicated that he had been struck by a fist where a heavy signet ring was worn. His actual death had been caused by a blow to the back of his head when he’d fallen and struck it on the edge of a table.

It had come to light that Lyle Gardner wore such a signet ring. He claimed he must have lost it somewhere because he couldn’t find it. Nor had a police search of his home and office turned up the ring.

The detectives believed that Lyle learned of his brother’s activities, confronted him, and the pair came to blows. The wounds from the ice pick had been administered after Franklin was dead to give the impression that a botched burglary had taken place. Lyle had taken a few valuable items from the apartment to further that theory and had disposed of the incriminating ring.

“Oh, dear,” Jennifer said to herself, shaking her head. “It really is very circumstantial evidence. No wonder Evan is so worried about proving that Lyle killed his brother.”

Evan had a rough road to go, Jennifer thought as she set aside her work and sipped her tea. He looked so tired, thoroughly exhausted, and Belinda had told Jennifer that Evan was putting in very long days at the office as he prepared to go to trial.

Jennifer glanced at the cuckoo clock on the wall and saw that it was nearly ten o’clock.

Was Evan still in his office at the courthouse? she wondered, poring over every scrap of evidence he had. What a lonely picture that painted in her mind. Evan would be in a small circle of light with total darkness and heavy silence beyond it. All alone. Thinking of nothing but the case he was determined to win. How stark, narrow and empty that was as it flitted across her mind’s eye.

But that was her reaction to the scenario she was creating. It might seem bleak and lonely to her, but to Evan? His career was his world, the focus of his existence. If he was still at the office he was probably relieved that everyone else had gone home so he could work in peace with no chance of being interrupted.

The telephone on the end table shrilled, causing Jennifer to nearly jump off the sofa from the sudden noise.

Who on earth would be calling at this hour? she thought, staring at the phone that continued to ring. She snatched up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Jennifer? Evan.”

Jennifer’s eyes widened. He’d read her mind. From wherever he was he’d peered into her brain, knew she’d been thinking about him. He… Oh, for Pete’s sake, Jennifer, you’re totally losing it.

“Jennifer?”

“What? Oh, yes, I’m here, Evan.”

“I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, no, I was working on my notes and…Where are you?”

“At the office.”

Of course he was, she thought. That was his favorite place to be. His home away from home, or some such depressing thing.

“And you called me because?”

“I’m going to stop off at Franklin Gardner’s apartment tomorrow morning before I come in here to the office. Your cameraman…what’s his name? Slates?”

“Sticks. He’s very tall and thin and has long legs, and he goes by the name of Sticks.”

“Whatever. Sticks can film the building from the outside, but the apartment itself is still considered a crime scene and he can’t go in there. I’ll take you inside with me, but no footage is to be filmed.”

“All right. Sticks can go by there whenever and get what he needs from in front or across the street.” She paused. “Why are you…we…going to the scene of the crime now?”

“I don’t know,” Evan said, sounding very weary. “I was called the night it happened because of the fact that a high-profile Gardner had been murdered, but I would have been in the way if I’d gone over then.

“I went the next morning so I would have a clear picture of things in my mind. Now? I’m just retracing my steps, going over everything again with a fine-tooth comb. I want to walk through those rooms once more. I figured I’d better include you in on this, or you’d pitch a fit.”

“My, my, how can I pass up such a warm fuzzy invitation to accompany you, Mr. Stone? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I’m sorry,” Evan said, then chuckled.

A funny little flutter whispered down Jennifer’s spine as she heard that oh-so-sexy sound.

“I didn’t phrase that very well, did I? Chalk it up to the fact that I’m so tired I’m punchy. But be honest, Jennifer, wouldn’t you have pitched a fit if I went there in the morning and told you about it later?”

Jennifer laughed in spite of herself. “Yes, I certainly would have. I’m supposed to be documenting your every little move, you know.”

“Believe me, I’m aware of that. Do you know where Gardner ’s apartment building is?”

“Yes, I have the address in my notes.”

“Okay. Eight o’clock tomorrow morning. I’ll meet you in the lobby of the building.” Evan paused a moment. “What are you wearing right now?”

“Pardon me?” Jennifer said, sitting up straighter.

“I’m sitting here having put in such a long day that I feel like I’ve been in this suit for three weeks. I just wondered what someone who is home, relaxing, probably about to go to bed…is wearing.”

Jennifer glanced down at her less-than-fashionable robe.

“Am I allowed to lie?”

“Nope.”

“Well, darn. After a sinfully long shower I donned my favorite robe which is older than dirt and looks like it was given to me by a bag lady who decided it was too decrepit to be seen in.”

“Sexy, huh?”

“To the max,” Jennifer said, smiling.

“What color is this fashion statement?”

“I don’t think this faded shade really has a name beyond blah.”

“Got it. Okay, nice long, soothing shower, security-blanket type comfy robe and… Hmm…you’re curled up in the corner of the sofa with a drink. Something warm on this chilly night. Coffee? Hot chocolate? No, tea, I think. Yes, you’re having a cup of tea, maybe one of those fancy flavored kind.”

“You’re amazing,” Jennifer said, smiling. “The tea is cinnamon. Caffeine-free. How did you know all that, Evan?”

“I’m not sure. I’m just picturing you in my mind and what I said fits. I guess I know you better than either of us realized. Where did you think I was when you asked me?”

“At the office.”

“Bingo. I rest my case. It’s rather interesting.”

“Disconcerting is closer to the mark. We really don’t know each other very well, but we just somehow knew… Definitely disconcerting.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think it’s kind of…nice. Very nice, in fact.” Evan paused. “Well, I guess I’ll call it day, or a night as the case may be, and head on home. It was nice…there’s that word again…chatting with you, sweet Jenny. Sleep well and I’ll meet up with you in the morning. Good night.”

“Good night, Evan,” Jennifer said softly.

She replaced the receiver, then smiled. “Very, very nice.”

Evan continued to hold the receiver until a shrill buzzing noise emanated from it, announcing it had been off the hook too long. He slid it onto the base, then leaned back in his chair, laced his fingers behind his head and stared up at the ceiling.

Sweet, sweet Jenny, he thought. All he had intended to do when he telephoned her was set up the meeting in the morning at the apartment building where Gardner had been killed.

But once he’d started talking to Jennifer he hadn’t wished to stop. The “what are you wearing” bit must have sounded corny as hell, but he’d sincerely wanted to know so he could complete the image of her in his mind’s eye. At least he hadn’t gone so far as to ask what she had on beneath the soft, old robe. That would have been really pushing it.

Evan glanced around, unable to see anything in the darkness beyond the circle of light cast by the lamp on his desk.

And there he sat, he mused, in a chilly office. He was attempting to begin the first draft of his opening statement to the jury for the Gardner trial.

He preferred to write his opening and closing arguments in longhand rather than on the computer, and his trash can was filled to overflowing with wadded-up sheets of paper, each holding a handful of words that he’d rejected the minute he’d written them.

“I’ve had it for today,” he said aloud, getting to his feet. “Drag it on home, Stone.”

Home, he thought, as he flicked off the lamp, then made his way cautiously toward the door in the inky darkness. Yeah, his expensive apartment was his home, he supposed, but it wasn’t homey the way Jennifer’s was. His was just there, a place to sleep, eat once in a while, shower, shave, change clothes. It wasn’t warm and inviting, didn’t wrap itself around him with comfort to ease his stress. It was just some walls, floors, ceilings that meant he didn’t have to sleep in his vehicle.

Maybe it took a woman to add that homey touch, he thought as he locked his office door. Maybe the average man wasn’t capable of doing such a thing. Or maybe it was just him who lacked that ability.

No, it was the fact that there weren’t enough hours in the day to accomplish everything he might wish to do.

First priority was his role of district attorney and the responsibilities that title produced. He was determined to be the very best D.A. he was capable of being, even if it meant he had little else in his life, such as turning his apartment into a homey haven, or being in a relationship with a special woman.

But what would it be like, he wondered, as he rode down in the elevator, to know that someone like Jennifer… No, if Jennifer herself was waiting for him to come through the door? Fresh from her shower, clad in her funky robe, a smile would light up her face, she’d rush into his arms which would make him forget instantly that he was weary to the bone. He’d kiss her for a long, heart-stopping time, then…

“Shut up, Stone,” he admonished himself, as he got into his vehicle in the parking garage. “Sleep, I need lots of sleep.”

But first thing tomorrow morning, he mused, as he merged into the traffic, he’d meet up with sweet Jenny Anderson. And that was very…well…nice.

Hours later Jennifer tossed back the blankets on the bed and reached for her robe.

She couldn’t stay in that bed a second longer, she thought, starting toward the bedroom door. She was doing nothing more than tossing and turning, and definitely not getting the sleep she needed. Hopefully a mug of hot milk would relax her and allow her to drift off into blissful slumber.

A short time later Jennifer was once again curled up in the corner of the sofa, her legs tucked next to her, the mug of steaming milk cradled in both hands. She blew on the hot liquid and took a sip.

Her insomnia was Evan Stone’s fault, she decided. He had telephoned her just before she went to bed and, therefore, she’d taken the image of him and the sound of his voice right along with her as she’d snuggled under the blankets. Definitely his fault. And she sounded like a grumpy three-year-old in need of a nap.

Her whatever-it-was with Evan was so complicated and confusing. She was attracted to him, which was putting it mildly, melted like soupy ice cream on a summer day when he took her into his arms and kissed her. He was inching his way into her heart, staking a claim that he wasn’t even interested in possessing.

Evan had referred to what they had shared three months ago on that fateful night as making love. Did he really feel that way about it, or was he just being polite and refraining from referring to it as one-night-stand sex, plain old tacky sex in its purest form?

No, it had been more than that. Their joining had been wondrous, exquisitely beautiful, so intense and meaningful and…and nothing could erase the fact that they’d gone to bed together after knowing each other for a few hours, the majority of which had been spent arguing like cats and dogs about the filming of the documentary.

She’d do well to just forget about that night as Evan apparently intended to do. Chalk it up as poor judgment, and a rather immature lack of control. Her behavior that night had been very, very out of character. That theory was just dandy, but there were extenuating circumstances that made it impossible to ever forget what she had shared with Evan Stone.

That night had changed her life for all time.

Because she was pregnant with Evan’s baby.

Jennifer set the mug on the end table then put her hands on her stomach.

Oh, my, she thought, a baby. She was carrying Evan Stone’s baby. She’d repeated that message so many times in her mind in the past few weeks until she really believed at last that it was true.

She was thrilled, so happy that she wept at the drop of a hat, which was partly due to wacky hormones at this point, she supposed.

But the daddy in this scenario? Oh, heavens, she didn’t even want to think about what Evan’s reaction to her baby bulletin would be. He was dedicated to his career, totally focused on his role of district attorney. No, Evan was not going to beam with delight when she told him she was pregnant.

Which was why, Jennifer thought, staring into space, she was going to keep this pregnancy a secret for as long as possible. Yes, a man had the right to know that he had a child on the way, but she wasn’t prepared, not yet, to tarnish the pure joy she was feeling with what could be a very nasty and angry response on the part of Evan Stone.

She worked continually with men who put their careers first, was aware of the long hours they were away from home with little, or no, thought given to their wife and children waiting for them. Their families seemed very low on the list of what was important to them. No, Evan would not be happy when he heard her news.

“It takes two to get into this situation, buster,” Jennifer said, narrowing her eyes.

That, no doubt, was what she’d fling at Evan if he accused her of being careless, for not considering birth control the night they had been together. Well, he hadn’t brought up the dicey subject, either, by golly. He’d have to admit that, no matter how upset he might be.

But taking equal responsibility for the creation of this little one wouldn’t make Evan want this baby, wouldn’t send him racing off to buy cigars so he’d be ready for the big day that he was ecstatic about.

Evan might tell her that she would hear from his attorney regarding child support payments because he was an honorable man who would provide for his child, but he wanted no part of the role of father to their baby. He didn’t have the time, nor the desire, to do so.

Oh, what a depressing thought.

“It’s just you and me, kiddo,” Jennifer said, patting her stomach, then sniffling. “And maybe a weekend father. But he might not even want to take on that role. I’m so sorry…” she sniffled again “…just so sorry, little darling. Your daddy is magnificent but he isn’t mine, or ours. But we’ll be fine, just the two of us. Fine and dandy. You’ll see.”

Jennifer picked up the mug of milk, then plunked it back down when she saw the scummy film on the top of the now-cool liquid. She took a wadded tissue from the pocket of her robe and dabbed at her nose.

She was not going to cry, she told herself. She was tired, so very tired, and she was on emotional overload from talking on the telephone with Evan earlier and from being with him in his office after not seeing him for three months. There she had sat, knowing she was carrying his child while he glared at her and grumpily said he guessed he was stuck with her for the duration of the filming of her documentary. What a crummy thing for him to have said, the rotten bum.

“And I think I’m falling in love with him,” Jennifer wailed. “Oh, I’m a wreck, a complete wreck.”

She got to her feet and stomped down the hall to her bedroom. Exhaustion claimed her, and she was asleep within moments of climbing into the beckoning bed.

The building where Franklin Gardner’s penthouse apartment took up the entire thirty-fifth floor was in the prestigious Gold Coast area of Chicago. It was cream-colored stone with an expensive brown tint added to the windows that caused a golden hue to be reflected when the sun shone on the structure, as though it was constantly reminding the general public that it took wealth to live within its walls.

At eight o’clock the next morning Jennifer arrived at the building and Evan pushed open the door to the lushly decorated lobby to allow her to enter.

“Good morning, Evan,” Jennifer said, smiling. “Gracious, I think this lobby is bigger than my entire apartment.”

“Let’s get upstairs,” Evan said, then frowned. “You look pale, Jennifer.”

You would, too, she thought, if you’d been tossing your cookies since 5:00 a.m. Her doctor had said that the morning sickness should end any time now. As far as she, wobbly-tummy Jennifer was concerned, it couldn’t happen quick enough to suit her.

“Pale? Me?” she said. “I had a little problem with getting to sleep last night, but I’m fine.”

“If you say so,” Evan said, then started across the lobby.

When they reached the elevators a uniformed police officer was standing by one elevator set apart from the others. Evan nodded at him as he and Jennifer stepped into the elevator. There was only one button on the panel and Evan pushed it.

“This is a private elevator for the penthouse?” Jennifer said. “Impressive.”

The doors swished closed and the elevator began its ascent.

“Yep,” Evan said. “This one only goes to the penthouse. It normally requires a special key, but we’re making it accessible to our people with no hassle.”

The elevator bumped to a stop and the doors slid silently open.

“Oh, my,” Jennifer said, as she stepped forward. “No wonder a private elevator is needed. We’re actually standing in the foyer to the penthouse itself. The elevator is the front door, per se. Mmm. So this is how the other half lives in Chicago, the haves versus us have-not working stiffs.”

“Right,” Evan said, frowning, “but the Gardner family money wasn’t enough for greedy Franklin. He had to have more. So the slime sets up a racket of kidnapping girls no one would miss and selling them to prostitution rings in foreign countries. Unbelievable. The Gardner name has been held in high regard in this city for many, many years and now it’s tarnished beyond repair.”

They entered the enormous living room, then Jennifer followed Evan across the richly furnished expanse to a room on the opposite side. A chalk outline of a body was visible on the carpet in what was obviously a study, or den, with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.

“Well, Franklin paid the ultimate price for his greed,” Jennifer said quietly, staring at the outline of the murdered man’s body. “It’s probably terrible of me to say this, Evan, but with Franklin Gardner dead we can at least know that a great many young girls have been saved from a horrible existence.”

“That thought has occurred to me more than once.” Evan nodded. “ Franklin paid the piper, big-time. But even though he was an evil, heartless man, his killer can’t go unpunished. No one has the right to get away with what happened in this room, to take the life of another human being. Lyle is going to pay his dues, too.”

Jennifer placed one hand on Evan’s arm. “You’ll get your conviction, Evan, I know you will.”

“Will I? I need more evidence than what I have, Jennifer. The detectives working this case and I are convinced that the bruises were caused by the signet ring that Lyle always wore. A ring, he claims, he lost. Damn, we need that ring, but it’s nowhere to be found. The detectives are still looking for it but…” He shook his head.

“Are you here this morning to search for it again?”

“No, this place has been gone over inch by inch. The ring isn’t here. There’s no real purpose to be served by my being here. I just wanted to connect with the whole event again, try to imagine it in my mind as it unfolded that night. I suppose you could put in your documentary that the district attorney wasted taxpayer money by returning to the scene of the crime for no plausible reason.”

“I wouldn’t do that. If you feel the need to be here, then here you should be. It’s sort of creepy though to be standing here realizing that a man was murdered by his own brother in this very room. It’s too bad you can’t bring the jury here, let them see this, feel the evil vibes in here.”

“The judge would never go for that.”

“I suppose not.” Jennifer paused. “Can you imagine what Cecelia Gardner must be going through? One of her sons is dead and the other one is accused of his murder. Her world as she knew it is destroyed. Her heart must be breaking.”

“I don’t know about that,” Evan said, starting to wander slowly around the room. “From what I hear, there are mixed opinions about whether Cecelia Gardner even has a heart. Oh, she’s considered the grande dame of Chicago society and makes certain her picture is in the newspaper whenever possible in connection with charity events she sponsors. But she’s a tough old gal who is used to having her own way.

“She went all the way to the top, to the governor, to attempt to get Lyle released on bail. He refused but Cecelia managed to rattle some cages, get some very pithy quotes in the paper about the need for a new governor, new mayor, a new district attorney, and a complete overhaul of the police department.”

“She wanted you fired?”

“Oh, yeah,” Evan said, smiling. “I said we had enough evidence against Lyle to go to trial. The lady is after my hide. Belinda knows to never put through any call to me from Cecelia Gardner. I have neither the time, nor the patience to deal with her.”

“It’s probably the first time in her life that her money and social standing haven’t gotten her what she wants. She doesn’t sound like a pleasant person, but a part of me can’t help but think about the fact that she’s a mother who might very well lose both of her sons. What a chilling thought.”

Evan turned to look at Jennifer. “You sound like a mother right now. You’re taking Cecelia’s actions to a place I hadn’t even thought of, but one that a mother would understand. It doesn’t make me particularly like the uppity woman any more than I did before, but it does show me another layer to her that I hadn’t considered. It doesn’t have anything to do with Lyle’s trial though, if you stop and think about it.”

“I realize that.”

“Strange. You haven’t even met the woman, yet you immediately jumped to her role of mother and what she might be feeling in that arena.”

Because I’m going to be a mother, Evan, Jennifer’s mind yelled. She was already so fiercely protective of the baby she carried that it startled her at times. Well, she wasn’t going to open her mouth and announce that little tidbit to Evan Stone.

“It’s a woman thing,” Jennifer said breezily.

“Oh,” Evan said, chuckling, “I see. There are a whole bunch of those woman things that men can give up on ever understanding. Women are very complicated creatures.”

Jennifer smiled. “Give me one example of what you perceive to be a woman thing.”

“Okay, but let’s get out of this study. You’re right about the nasty vibes in this room.”

Back in the living room Evan commented on the fantastic view of Lake Michigan and Lincoln Park from the wall of windows on the far side of the room.

“Postcard-perfect picture, and you’re stalling,” Jennifer said, folding her arms beneath her breasts.

“You’re right.” Evan laughed. “Okay, okay, give me a minute here.” He ran one hand over his chin. “A woman thing. I got one. When I was in high school I walked into the room just as my mother asked my father if he still loved her. He lowered the newspaper he was reading in his favorite chair, looked at my mom like she was nuts and said ‘I’m still here, aren’t I?’ I can remember nodding and heading for my room, but my mother burst into tears.”

“Well, of course, she did,” Jennifer said, shifting her hands to her hips. “She needed to hear the actual words right then, at that very moment. She needed to hear your father say that he loved her.”

“He thought he had,” Evan said, shrugging, “with the answer he gave her.”

“Oh-h-h…men,” Jennifer said, rolling her eyes heavenward.

“That,” Evan said, pointing one finger in the air, “was a fine example of a woman thing.”

“You’re right.” Jennifer laughed. “You’re absolutely right. You’d do well to remember that incident, Evan, because you may need that data at some point in your life. ‘I’m still here, aren’t I?’ does not cut it when your wife asks if you still love her.”

Evan closed the distance between them and looked directly into Jennifer’s green eyes.

“I doubt that I’ll ever need that information. Maybe I will, someday, but I…” He shook his head. “With the hours I put in with this job I wouldn’t even be in a position to blow it by saying that because I’d probably not be there the majority of the time.”

“It would depend on how badly you wanted a wife and family, I guess,” Jennifer said, hardly above a whisper. “Whether or not you loved someone enough to make changes, learn to delegate some of the workload and… If the president of the United States can find time for his wife and children, then…I’m sorry. I’m overstepping. This is none of my business.”

“Isn’t it?” Evan said, still pinning her in place with his intense gaze. “Aren’t you as focused on your career as I am on mine?”

“Yes, at the moment I am.”

But things were going to be different once their baby was born, she thought. She had no intention of traveling all the time, or dragging in so exhausted late at night that she fell across her bed fully clothed and went to sleep. She’d find the proper balance between her role of mother and career woman. And wife? No, she wouldn’t be a wife. Without even realizing he was doing it, Evan was making that fact crystal clear.

“What do you mean ‘at the moment’?” Evan said, pulling Jennifer from her thoughts.

“Nothing,” she said, averting her eyes from his. “Could we leave? I don’t like being in this place.”

Evan glanced around. “Yes, I’m finished here without having accomplished a damn thing to help my case.”

“You mustn’t give up, Evan.”

“I don’t intend to. When I want something, sweet Jenny, I fight for it until the last bell rings. I don’t admit defeat until it’s popping me in the chops. When I really want something I hang in very tough to get it.”

Well said, Jennifer thought, as they started across the room. If only Evan wanted to discover with that intensity what they might have together. If only he would be thrilled beyond measure when told she was carrying his baby. Pipe dreams, Jennifer. That’s all that those are.

Chapter 3

L ate that afternoon Evan sat in the leather chair behind the desk in his office and stared into space. For the umpteenth time since being in Franklin ’s penthouse the question he had asked Jennifer and the answer she had given echoed in his mind.

If a woman who appeared to be totally dedicated to her career implied that that was the status of her life now, at the moment, didn’t that mean she might very well have a different focus planned for the future somewhere in her “it’s a woman thing” mind?

Like…perhaps…maybe…Jennifer might, just might, wish to fall in love, marry, have a family? It made sense to him that that was what she had meant. And every time he centered on that thought, he was suffused with a strange and foreign warmth that started somewhere in the vicinity of his heart then traveled throughout him.

Evan shook his head in self-disgust.

He was really going off the deep end. He was rewriting the future script of Jennifer’s life based on a statement she had made, then refused to elaborate on. For all he knew, she was saying she was tired of working so hard, planned to have more leisure time for herself between assignments to relax, party, date a multitude of men.

A cold knot tightened in Evan’s stomach at the mental image he was painting of Jennifer dancing at a nightclub with a faceless man who was the recipient of Jennifer’s sunshine smile. A man who would take her home, be invited in for coffee, then…

“If he touches her I’ll…” Evan said, lunging to his feet, then glanced quickly at the door to be certain it was tightly closed.

He sank back onto his chair and sighed. It was a sigh that came from the very depths of his soul and took his heart along for the ride. It was a sigh of defeat, of having nowhere to hide from the truth.

He was slowly but surely falling in love with Jennifer Anderson.

And it was, without a doubt, the dumbest thing he had ever done in his entire life.

He didn’t have time to be in love, to be half of a whole, to do his part to nurture a relationship that would hopefully lead to marriage and babies. And there was no hint from her that she was in love with him, would consider making room in her life for a husband and children.

Yeah, sure, she cared for him, was attracted to him, responded to his kisses with no hesitation, and when they made love? Oh, man, when they made love…

“Don’t go there, Stone,” he said, as heat rocketed through his body.

He leaned his head on the top of the chair and closed his eyes.

What a mess, he thought. He was falling in love for the first time in his life and was losing his heart to a woman who was as dedicated to her career as he was to his. A woman who might very well take off for parts unknown to film her next documentary when she was finished with this one without a backward glance. A woman who cared for him, but wasn’t in love with him, and who would have no problem walking out of his life and dismissing him from her mind.

While she was dismissing him, he would be missing her. Aching for her. Scrambling around to find the pieces of his shattered heart so he could hopefully glue it back together.

Damn it, why couldn’t she be falling in love with him, just as he was with her?

“Oh, that’s good,” he muttered, not opening his eyes. “So mature. Make it all her fault that you’re a miserable wreck, Stone.”

Now that he thought about it, why would Jennifer fall in love with him? He’d made it clear to her that he had no room in his existence for a serious relationship. Someday, maybe, sure he might want a wife and kids, but now? Hey, he was the district attorney, worked twenty-four seven, which was exactly the way he liked it. He hadn’t exactly presented himself as the catch of the year.

But he didn’t have to put in the long, long hours he did to excel at this job. He had a top-notch staff of assistant district attorneys, paralegals, secretaries, research people, investigators. He could delegate so much of what he did on his own and not diminish one iota his dedication and purpose.

He could do that, would do that, if Jennifer actually loved him.

And that, he thought gloomily, was a pipe dream.

A knock at the door caused Evan to jerk upward in his chair.

“What!” he yelled.

The door was opened and Jennifer poked her head around the edge.

“Is it safe to come in? Or should I just throw you some raw meat? Belinda isn’t at her desk, but she told Sticks earlier that you wanted to see me.”

“Sorry I barked at you,” Evan said, getting to his feet. “Yes, I do want to see you.”

And hold you, Evan thought, and kiss you senseless, and make love to you for hours. There, walking toward him right now, was the only woman he had ever inched toward falling in love with. She was coming closer and closer, but she might as well be on the opposite side of the world for all the good her close proximity would do him. Ah, Jenny.

Jennifer sat down in one of the chairs opposite Evan’s desk. He remained standing, looking at her intently.

“Do I have a ladybug on my nose?” she said. “Why are you staring and glaring at me?”

Evan sank onto his chair. “Sorry. My mind was off and running somewhere.”

“You wanted to see me?” Jennifer prompted.

“I did?” Evan said, frowning. “Oh. Yes. I did. I do. And here you are. Good.”

“Evan, for Pete’s sake, what’s wrong?” she said, matching his frown. “You’re acting very strangely.”

“Tired. I’m very, very tired, that’s all.” Evan cleared his throat. “Okay, here’s the deal. We’re running out of time as far as lightning striking, or some such thing, and producing some solid evidence against Lyle.

“To be more precise, we need the damnable ring he claims he lost and a way to prove he was wearing it when Franklin was murdered. That ring isn’t suddenly going to drop into our laps so I’m going to have to go to trial next week with what I have.”

“You’ll get your conviction, Evan.”

“I wish I had your confidence,” he said, shaking his head. “Anyway, I’m going to spend the next two or three days reviewing information with the people who are going to testify for the prosecution. In all fairness to them I don’t want you filming them coming in and out of here. Granted, the reporters will see that their pictures are splashed across the newspapers, but I don’t think it’s fair to expose them to further scrutiny in the documentary.”

“I understand.” Jennifer nodded.

“And it goes without saying, I’m sure, that a D.A. going over testimony with his witnesses is not meant for public review. So, what I’m saying here is that beyond maybe showing my closed office door and stating what is taking place in this office, there’s nothing for you to do around here until the trial commences.”

“Oh. Well. Yes, I guess you’re right. Sticks and I will spend the time back at the studio viewing what we have so far and starting to edit the film.”

“That sounds very…productive,” Evan said, leaning forward and fiddling with a pen. “Because the mayor is so high on this documentary, you’ll be allowed to film in the courtroom while the reporters are stuck taking notes and making do with artist drawings of various witnesses. You’re not going to be very popular among the press, you know. Jealousy will rear its ugly head.”

Jennifer shrugged. “I’ve been through that before. You wouldn’t believe who I’ve been accused of sleeping with to get my coveted up close and personal coverage of various events.”

“The reporters might think you slept with the mayor?” Evan said, his voice rising.

“Sure. Or the governor. Or…” a warm flush crept over Jennifer’s cheeks “…you. Don’t worry about it, Evan. I can handle whatever remarks the press may fling at me.”

“Not on my watch,” Evan said, his jaw tightening. “If any one of them hassles you, you let me know and I’ll straighten them out, believe me.”

“And say what? That, yes, I slept with you, but it was the mayor who decreed that I should film the trial? That ought to make page one of the tabloids, if nothing else. Just stay out of it, Evan, and let me take care of it if it happens. You’re supposed to be concentrating on the trial, not on me and whatever slings and arrows the press might decide to shoot my way.”

“It’s not that easy. I care about you, for you. I can’t stand the idea that you might be harassed because the mayor is calling the shots and…I want to protect you from that garbage, stand between you and harm’s way and… Ah, hell.” He tossed the pen to one side.

Damn it, Jennifer, he thought fiercely. Don’t you get it? Can’t you see it? I’m falling in love with you.

“That’s…that’s very sweet,” she said, blinking back sudden and very unwelcomed tears. “And while it isn’t necessary, I appreciate it, I really do.”

And it just makes me realize that I’m falling deeper and deeper in love with you, Evan, she thought miserably, so stop saying such beautiful things to me please before I dissolve into a puddle of tears.

Jennifer cleared her throat. “So, the witnesses you’re seeing in the next few days will sit in this chair where I am now and you’re there behind your desk and…I just want to be certain I have the details right. I might decide to shoot your office with no one in it, then explain what will transpire behind the closed door that would be shown next.”

“Actually, no. I use the conference room for this type of thing. I don’t want to make my witnesses feel like they’re in the principal’s office with me looming over them from behind my desk.”

Jennifer frowned. “What conference room?”

“Follow me, ma’am,” Evan said, getting to his feet.

They crossed the large room to a door on the far wall and entered an even bigger room that held a long table surrounded by chairs, a sofa and easy chair grouping, a small refrigerator and a multitude of filing cabinets and bookcases filled to overflowing. The table had a row of neatly stacked papers as well as several accordion files.

“This is impressive,” Jennifer said, walking forward. “I didn’t even know this room was here.”

“This is where I get organized before a trial. Plus we have department meetings in here on a regular basis so the A.D.A.’s can bring me up to date on their cases. I go over testimony with witnesses in here because we can sit on the sofa and chairs, or whatever, and it’s less intimidating.”

Jennifer nodded. “Sticks and I will film this room with no one in it, then show the closed door. Okay?”

“That’s fine.” Evan paused. “You know, Jennifer, the first days of the trial will be spent on jury selection. Again, I’d like to protect the jurors’ identities as far as the documentary goes, even though the press will be hovering around with cameras outside the courtroom.”

“In other words, you don’t want me filming during jury selection.”

“No, and no footage of the jury once the trial begins.”

“I have no problem with that, Evan,” she said, turning to meet his gaze.

“Well, there is one problem with it.”

“Such as?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

Evan closed the distance between them and looked directly into her eyes.

“Well, if I’m tied up with witnesses for the next several days, including through the weekend, then the trial starts next week and jury selection takes place, that’s a whole lot of time during which I won’t see you. That’s not good. Not good at all.”

“It’s not?” She smiled up at him.

“No, it’s not,” he said, matching her smile. “I’ve gotten used to you hanging around, so to speak. I’ll be looking over my shoulder wondering where you are, which would be hazardous to my concentration.”

“I see.” Jennifer laughed. “Well, is there a solution to this dilemma?”

“Why don’t we go out to dinner tonight and discuss it?”

“Well, I certainly want to do everything I possibly can to assist you, sir.”

“Good. I’ll pick you up at seven. Dress casually. I know a restaurant that serves the best steaks in town, but it’s rustic. You know, wooden tables and benches, that sort of thing.”

“Sounds like fun. Oh. Maybe we’re not supposed to have fun while we’re discussing details of this and that regarding this case.”

“I won’t tell, if you won’t.”

“My lips are sealed.”

Evan’s expression became serious and he drew one thumb over Jennifer’s lips, causing her to shiver at the sensual foray.

“Your lips,” he said, his voice very deep and very rumbly, “are so kissable they should be declared against the law.”

“So, arrest me,” she said, hardly above a whisper.

“No, I’d rather…” he lowered his head toward Jennifer’s “…much rather kiss those lips that are so…”

The hazy mist that was settling over them was shattered by the sound of Belinda’s voice in Evan’s office beyond the conference room.

“You don’t have an appointment,” Belinda said. “You can’t just barge in here and…”

“I can and I am,” a woman said. “Now where is Evan Stone? I don’t intend to leave until I’ve spoken with him.”

“What the hell…” Evan muttered, striding toward the door leading to his office.

Jennifer was right behind him.

“I’m sorry, Evan,” Belinda said, throwing up her hands, “but she wouldn’t listen to me and…”

“It’s not your fault, Belinda. I’ll take it from here.”

“Thank goodness,” Belinda said, stomping from the room and closing the door behind her.

“Mrs. Gardner,” Evan said, “won’t you have a seat?”

So this is Cecelia Gardner, Jennifer thought, the grande dame of Chicago society. Or she was until this scandal broke. This was Franklin and Lyle Gardner’s mother. She was definitely an intimidating figure. Tall, thin, white hair swept up and couture clothes that suited her perfectly.

“You’ve been refusing to accept my calls,” Cecelia said, sitting down opposite Evan’s desk, “so I came in person.” She swept her haughty gaze over Jennifer. “I’d prefer to speak with you privately, Mr. Stone.”

Evan stepped forward and moved the second chair from in front of the desk to the side and away from Cecelia.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Ms. Anderson is filming a documentary on the inner workings of the D.A.’s office, per strict instructions from His Honor the mayor. Anything you say to me will be said in front of Jennifer.” He looked at Jennifer. “Jenny? Your chair?”

Jennifer sank onto a chair, her eyes darting back and forth between Evan and Cecelia. The tension in the room was a nearly palpable entity. She studied Cecelia more intently, looking for the sorrow, the mother who had lost one son and had another facing charges of murdering his own brother. All she could see was anger flashing in Cecelia Gardner’s icy blue eyes.

Evan sat down in the leather chair behind his desk. “Now then, Mrs. Gardner, what can I do for you?”

“You can drop the charges against my son Lyle,” she said, lifting her chin. “This trial is a travesty, part of a conspiracy carefully planned by those who are jealous of the social standing, wealth and power that my family possesses. The lies being told about Franklin now that he’s no longer alive to defend himself are further proof of the evil forces who wish to diminish us. I won’t stand for it.”

Evan leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, but didn’t speak.

“The story in the newspapers,” Cecelia went on, “relating that Franklin was involved in some sordid nonsense about young girls being sold into prostitution is ridiculous, and I plan to sue for slander, believe me. And as if that isn’t enough, you have all gone on to accuse Lyle of murdering his own brother.”

Evan nodded.

“Do you know, Mr. Stone,” Cecelia said, her voice quivering with fury, “that I have been asked to resign from the governing board of six charities that I have helped establish and run for many years? Do you know that the name Gardner is to be removed from the shelters and halfway houses I worked tirelessly to put into operation? Do you have any idea what you have done to my reputation in this town?

“You will pay with your job, as will the mayor and governor. Yes, you will pay for what you’ve done. But you will first petition the court to drop all charges against Lyle so I can begin to reestablish my name and status to its proper place. Is that clear?”

“Dear heaven,” Jennifer said, speaking aloud before she even realized she had done it, “where are your tears? Where is your grief for your dead son and for the other son who faces charges of taking his brother’s life? What kind of mother are you, Mrs. Gardner? All you can think about is you, your wants and needs.” She slid one hand protectively across her stomach. “Your…your baby boys, your babies are… Don’t you care?”

“You have no concept of what is important in my level of society, young woman.” Cecelia glared at Jennifer. “Respect for me, my name, my power and wealth must be reestablished before more damage is done.

“Once I have regained my proper standing, I will see to the clearing of Franklin ’s name and, in the meantime, Mr. Stone will drop the charges against Lyle so I don’t have to be concerned about that. I will have the respect due me. That is first and foremost on my mind.”

“Incredible,” Jennifer whispered, as she stared at Cecelia.

“I trust we understand each other, Mr. Stone?” Cecelia said, getting to her feet. “I doubt seriously that you intend to see your career destroyed over this nonsense. I expect Lyle to be released from jail before this day ends. I will also be looking for a public apology from you. A brief press conference should take care of that nicely. I will, in fact, be making a list of everyone who owes me an apology and I will see to it that they are forthcoming. I assume you have no questions regarding this matter?”

“Just one,” Evan said, a steely edge to his voice.

“Yes?” Cecelia said.

“Do you plan to attend Lyle’s trial,” Evan said, “or just catch the highlights in the evening paper since you’ll be so busy attempting to repair your status in Chicago ’s Gold Coast society? Can you fit witnessing your son convicted of murdering his only brother into your schedule, Mrs. Gardner?”

Cecelia Gardner narrowed her eyes. “You are finished in this town, Stone, and I will see to it that no one, no one, across the entire United States will hire you. You don’t seem to comprehend who I am.”

“I understand perfectly who and what you are,” Evan said, “and I think it’s very, very sad.”

Cecelia squared her shoulders, then turned and crossed the room, leaving the door open as she left the office.

“If I hadn’t seen it, heard it,” Jennifer said, her voice quivering, “I wouldn’t believe it. She’s not a mother. She’s not. How can a woman give birth to two sons and not be a mother?” Two tears spilled onto her pale cheeks. “She’s horrible, Evan. Didn’t she hold her babies in her arms, nurture them, sing to them, read them stories and…” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I just…I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Evan said, getting to his feet and hunkering down next to Jennifer’s chair. “Ah, man, she really upset you, didn’t she? I’m the one who is sorry, Jenny. I shouldn’t have subjected you to that despicable woman.”

“No, no, it’s not your fault. I’m overreacting,” she said, swiping the tears from her cheeks, “because…I’m…tired. Yes, that’s it. I’m just tired.”

Evan slammed his hands onto his thighs, pushed himself to his feet and began to pace around the office. He dragged one hand through his thick, dark hair, a deep scowl on his face.

“Damn that Cecelia Gardner. I should have just called security and had her hauled out of here instead of allowing her to sound off.

“No, no, she’s not a mother, not really. You’re right about that, Jennifer. She might have gained the title by giving birth but she doesn’t have a clue as to what it really means. She is the most selfish, self-centered…

“I’ll tell you this, Jenny,” Evan ranted on, as he continued his trek. “I don’t have one iota of experience in the role of father, parent, but I don’t have to even think twice about how I would feel about my child, how I’d move heaven and earth to protect him, her, whatever. I’d put my life on the line for my son or daughter if it came to that. I would. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Evan stopped in front of Jennifer and met her wide-eyed gaze.

“Yes, I’m listening, hearing, everything you’re saying, Evan,” she said, her voice still wobbly as fresh tears filled her eyes. “I didn’t realize you felt so passionately about being a father.”

“I didn’t either until that witch came in here and did a fine job of show-and-tell of what a lousy parent is.” Evan shook his head. “That woman is…”

“Hello,” Belinda said, rapping on the open door, then coming into the office. “I was stuck on the phone when Cecelia Gardner stormed out of here. She was one furious lady, that’s for sure.

“Jennifer? Oh, my dear, what’s wrong? Why are you crying? And Evan? You look like you’re ready to chew nails. Oh, gracious, Cecelia upset both of you, didn’t she? What an awful person she is.”

“I should never have let her get on her rip,” Evan said, taking a steadying breath.

“I overreacted to her, I guess,” Jennifer said, then sniffled. “I just assumed that Cecelia Gardner was a…a mother who was in pain, who was heartbroken over losing one son and standing helplessly by as she faced the truth that her other son killed his brother. I was wrong. Giving birth doesn’t make a woman a mother. That title is earned, comes from the heart, from the love, from…” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head.

“Damn straight it does,” Evan said. “Cecelia Gardner isn’t a mother, she’s a social-climbing, power-hungry…”

“Watch your mouth now, Evan,” Belinda said. “We get the point. Let’s back up to why I came in here, besides wanting to know what happened with Cecelia, of course.

“This envelope was just delivered by a uniformed police officer, who actually ran down the hall to give it to me. It’s from Detectives Waters and Wilson.” She extended the interoffice envelope to Evan.

Evan took it and opened it so quickly he tore the flap off, then pulled out the contents, reading the enclosed note, then looking at the other piece beneath it.

“Yes!” he said, punching one fist in the air.

“What is it?” Belinda and Jennifer said in unison.

“Waters and Wilson are good, they are very, very good at what they do,” Evan said. “All we had to go on as far as the description of the ring that Lyle wore when he beat up his brother was a rather blurry print from a newspaper photograph that showed Lyle wearing the ring.

“Then Maggie Sutter, a forensics detective, did an absolutely brilliant job of lifting an impression of what caused the bruises on Franklin Gardner’s face. She determined that it was, indeed, a heavy signet ring with the letter G engraved on it.

“Now? Waters and Wilson contacted the Gardners ’ insurance company on the off chance that since the ring is valuable there was a picture of it on file there.”

“And?” Belinda said.

“Here it is,” Evan said, turning a photograph around to show Belinda and Jennifer. “A crystal-clear picture of that ring. This has got to help in locating the damn thing. It just has to.” He reached for the telephone receiver. “I’m going to call those detectives and tell them what a fantastic job they did getting this.”

“Evan, wait just one second, please. I know I said I’d go out to dinner with you this evening, but I’m going to take a rain check. I have a headache and I’m exhausted. The best place for me is home and early to bed.”

“Are you sure?” he said, frowning as he released his hold on the telephone receiver. “You have to eat. We can make an early evening of it.”

“No, I’ll have some soup and toast. I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon and see how things went with your witnesses. I must go. Bye.”

Jennifer got to her feet, took one step forward, then gasped as a wave of dizziness swept over her. She reached out blindly for the chair as black dots danced before her eyes.

“Evan, quick,” Belinda said, “catch her. I think she’s going to faint.”

Evan closed the distance between himself and Jennifer and swept her into his arms just as she began to crumble.

“I’m…I’m fine,” she said, blinking several times. “Evan, put me down. I’m fine. Just…just a little…dizzy and…”

“Take a deep breath, honey,” Belinda said. “Slow and easy. I fainted a few times at the beginning of my first pregnancy, too. It’s nothing serious, but you should tell your doctor about it. Your body is going through a great many changes right now and sometimes it just blinks out from the overload. Deep breath.”

“What…did…you…say?” Evan said, looking at Belinda, Jennifer, then back to Belinda.

“I really don’t want to be here right now,” Jennifer said, then slumped against Evan’s chest as everything went black.

Chapter 4

J ennifer wondered hazily why she was standing in the shower allowing icy cold water to cover her forehead and dribble down her face and along her neck. She frowned, opened her eyes, and found herself almost nose to nose with Belinda, who was pressing a wet paper towel to Jennifer’s forehead.

“What…”

“Easy now,” Belinda said, removing the soggy wad of paper. “You’re all right. You fainted, but you were only out for a little bitsy time. Evan carried you in here to the conference room and you’re on the sofa. Are you with me so far?

“I sent Evan off to bring his vehicle around to the front of the building so you won’t have to traipse all the way through the parking garage before he can take you home.”

“Oh, but…” Jennifer said, struggling to sit up.

“Stay,” Belinda said, pushing her back gently to a prone position.

Belinda got to her feet, pulled a chair next to the sofa and settled onto it.

“I…” Jennifer’s eyes widened as she stared at Belinda. “Oh, dear heaven, Belinda. I heard you say that you had fainted during your first pregnancy, too, meaning just the way I was fainting during my first pregnancy and…” She covered her face with her hands. “Oh-h-h, this is terrible. How did you know that I… Oh-h-h.”

Belinda lifted Jennifer’s hands and placed them on her stomach.

“How did I know that you’re pregnant?” Belinda said. “It’s just a silly knack I’ve had forever. I can just…tell. You’re going to have Evan’s baby.”

“Your strange powers announce who the father is, too?” Jennifer asked, frowning.

“No, of course not.” Belinda laughed. “That’s just simple logic, for mercy sake. The sparks between you and Evan are enough to start my backyard grill. What I want to know is when you intended to tell him he’s going to be a daddy?”

“That’s a rather moot point, isn’t it? You already told him, Belinda. I wanted to postpone it for as long as possible because I knew he’d be upset, probably angry and… What kind of mood was he in when you shuffled him off to get ready to play taxi?”

“I’m not sure. I couldn’t read his expression like I usually can. I think he was sort of shellshocked.”

“Dandy.” Jennifer paused. “I’m going to sit up and see if the room will stay still.”

Belinda helped Jennifer upward, then she shifted so her feet were on the floor.

“So far, so good,” Jennifer said, then sighed. “Everything is in such a mess. I’m just not…not ready for Evan to know about this baby. I’m so thrilled about being pregnant, I really am, and I wanted to enjoy the very thought of it, the…

“But it’s definitely reality check time. Evan knows. He certainly won’t be thrilled about this news. Oh, I’m not saying he’d turn his back on us, refuse to support us monetarily, but I have to face the truth of how dedicated he is to his career. He doesn’t have room for anything, or anyone else, in his life.”

“Would you like my opinion?” Belinda said.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Nope. So listen up. I believe you’re selling Evan short. Did it ever occur to you that he devotes himself to his career because there isn’t an important woman in his life? He probably figures that working long hours here is better than sitting at home alone watching television.”

“Mmm,” Jennifer said, frowning.

“Are you in love with Evan, Jennifer?”

“I…I’m not sure. I just don’t know. I care for him, about him, but…I think I’m falling in love with him, slowly, step by step, but…I’ve been attempting to deal with the fact that I’m pregnant, plus sift and sort through my feelings for Evan and I’m exhausted. Emotionally and physically drained.”

“That makes sense.” Belinda nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Evan wasn’t struggling to understand his feelings toward you right now, too. Love is a very simple, yet complicated thing.”

“If he is in love with me, or even thinks he might be falling in love with me,” Jennifer said, lifting her chin, “why hasn’t he told me?”

“Have you told him that your feelings for him are steadily growing? Tit for tat, you know. He could very well think that you’re so focused on your career you have no room in your life for him.”

“But that’s not true. When I have this baby I’ll cut back on the number of assignments I take, I wouldn’t travel so much and…”

“What we have here,” Belinda said, pointing one finger in the air, “is a basic lack of communication. You two need to talk to each other, for crying out loud.”

“Oh?” Jennifer said, raising her eyebrows. “Something like ‘Evan, my sweet patootie, you don’t happen to be kind of falling in love with me, are you? Because I think I’m falling in love with you, you know what I mean? Oh, and by the way, how do you feel about the little news flash that Belinda let out of the bag? Isn’t that a kicker? You’re going to be a daddy.’ How’s that, Belinda?”

“It’s definitely lacking something,” she said, shaking her head.

“No joke. I just want to go home and curl up in bed with the covers over my head.” She sighed. “I wish I had at least a clue as to how Evan reacted when he heard you say…”

“Uh-oh,” Belinda said softly, as Evan strode into the room.

Jennifer’s heart thundered as she stared at Evan as he approached. His eyes were narrowed slightly and his teeth were clenched so tightly she could see a muscle ticking in his jaw.

This was not, she thought miserably, a happy man.

“Can you walk, or should I carry you?” Evan said, looking at a spot just above Jennifer’s head.

“I’m perfectly capable of walking, thank you,” she said coolly, getting to her feet slowly and carefully. “Yes, I’m fine. Steady as a rock. In fact, I’m going to drive myself home.”

“No, you are not,” he said, a steely edge to his voice as he finally met her gaze. “Give me your keys and I’ll make arrangements for a couple of police officers to deliver your car to your apartment building.”

“I…”

“Don’t argue with me, Jennifer, not now. Come on.” Evan spun around and started back across the room.

“Hey, wait just a minute here,” Jennifer said indignantly.

“Go, go,” Belinda said, flapping her hands at Jennifer. “You can’t talk to each other if you’re not in the same place.”

“He’s not in the mood to talk. He’s barking orders like a drill sergeant.”

“Jennifer!” Evan said from the doorway.

“Oh, geez,” Jennifer said, hurrying toward him. “Goodbye, Belinda. If you never hear from me again you can have my half-dead Christmas cactus.”

The drive to Jennifer’s apartment was made in total silence. The ride up in the elevator in her apartment building was made in total silence. By the time Evan and Jennifer entered her living room that ominous, tension-filled silence was nearly crackling through the air.

The atmosphere in here, Jennifer thought, was certainly a world apart from the first time she and Evan had been in her home, the night their baby was conceived.

She sank onto the sofa and clutched her hands tightly in her lap, her gaze riveted on Evan. He swept back his suit coat and shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers as he began to wander restlessly around the spacious room.

It was decorated with white wicker furniture with bright-colored cushions and an oak coffee table and end tables. A home entertainment center contained a television, VCR, stereo and a multitude of CDs and videos. An oak bookcase was filled to overflowing with books.

Evan stopped his trek, stared unseeing at the books for a long moment, then turned to meet Jennifer’s gaze.

“When did you intend to tell me that you’re pregnant with my baby, Jennifer?” he said, a definite edge to his voice. “Or didn’t you think it was something I needed to know?”

“What makes you believe this is your baby I’m carrying? I’ve been on the coast for three months. There are men in California, you know.” Jennifer sighed and shook her head. “Erase that. I have no intention of playing that kind of game. This is your child and you’re aware of exactly when he, or she, was conceived.”

“So, I repeat,” he said, still standing across the room, “when did you intend to tell me, if at all?”

“Of course, I was going to tell you,” she said, her voice rising, “because a man has the right to know that he’s going to be a father. But as to when I was going to share this news with you? I don’t know, Evan, I really don’t. I was afraid it would result in an ugly scene and I was right, wasn’t I? Because here we are locking horns, or whatever cliché you want to use. Bottom line? You’re mad as hell.”

Evan nodded. “I’m angry. I admit that. But it’s due to the fact that I found out about this baby by accident, by hearing what my secretary was saying, for God’s sake. If it hadn’t been for Belinda blithering on and on I still wouldn’t know.”

“I just said I would have told you…eventually. But why rush it? I know you don’t want this baby, Evan. You have the focus you want in your life…your career as the district attorney. This baby is a glitch in your program, a nuisance you’ll have to deal with somehow. Why would I be in a hurry to hear that you don’t want this baby or…or me in your future? Try to see this from my point of view for a second.”

“Who in the hell are you to tell me how I feel, what I want, what my focus in life is?” Evan said, none too quietly. “You’re capable of looking into people’s minds, hearts, souls? That’s a good trick, Jennifer. You ought to take it on the road and see if it will play in Peoria.”

“Don’t yell at me,” Jennifer yelled. “I’ve been dealing with the existence of this baby for weeks, coming to grips with it. I struggled to find an inner peace about the way it was conceived, move past the fact that what happened between us that night was wrong because we’d only known each other for a few hours and…

“But I found that peace and centered on the baby. My baby. Mine. Because I want it more than I can ever express to you. I’ve been savoring the very existence of this little miracle,” she rushed on, one hand on her stomach, “daydreaming about seeing her, him, for the first time, holding him, watching him grow, smile that first smile, take his first step.”

Tears filled Jennifer’s eyes and she blinked them away, angry at herself for losing control of her emotions.

“I didn’t want you to intrude in my bubble of happiness, Evan,” she said, “break it, that bubble, and now you have and we’re yelling at each other and…I don’t want anything from you. Nothing. I don’t intend to make demands on you because I’m having your baby. You can set up a college fund for him if you want to, if that will ease your conscience, but you don’t have to pretend that you’re thrilled to pieces to have found out you’re going to be a father.”

Evan felt as though he’d been punched…hard…in the solar plexus, making it difficult to breathe.

I don’t want any anything from you. Nothing.

Jennifer’s words beat against his mind like physical blows. He sank onto an easy chair and dragged both hands down his face.

Jennifer didn’t want anything from him, he thought. Not his love, not a future with him, not…not anything. He had been falling in love with her, losing his heart to her a little at a time. How did he stop his emotions from going further? Or how did he reverse them? Could a man do that? Just…just stop falling in love with a woman who had staked a claim on his heart and who was carrying his baby?

He had to, somehow, before the very essence of who he was was shattered into a million pieces. Jennifer sure as hell didn’t love him, not even close. She didn’t want anything from him. Not anything.

But what about his child? His son, or daughter? Dear God, he was going to be a father, wanted to be there for the same things Jennifer had spoken of so wistfully…holding his baby, seeing that first smile, witnessing those wobbly first steps and…

“I can’t…I can’t take this all in at once,” Evan said, leaning his head on the top of the chair and staring at the ceiling. “It’s a lot to digest, to get used to.”

“Oh, believe me, I know that. When I first discovered I was pregnant, I told the doctor I went to in California four times that she had made a mistake. I was in complete denial, then I moved to terrified, then angry at myself, and you, for what we did that night, then finally…finally it came. The peace, the joy, the anticipation, the bubble of pure happiness.”

“That I just burst.”

“Well, it was going to happen eventually.” Jennifer sighed. “Please believe me when I say I would never have kept the existence of your child from you, Evan. I wouldn’t have done that.”

“I know,” he said, his voice hushed. “I’m sorry I lashed out at you before, asked you if you intended to ever tell me.”

“Evan, look,” Jennifer said, leaning forward. “You need time to adjust to this just as I did. I’m not telling you what to do, but I’d like to suggest that you try to put this on hold until after the Gardner trial. You’re on mental overload already with that pending, hanging over you the way it is.

“I realize that it would be easier for you if I wasn’t around all the time, but I have to continue to be with you to film the documentary. We’re going to have to work together until the trial is over.

“It will be difficult, maybe even impossible, but do you think we could just put the existence of the baby in a special place and not address the issue, not discuss it or anything until after the trial? I don’t want this pregnancy to be the cause of your not being able to concentrate fully on what you must do to be victorious in that courtroom, or be unable to have a clear mind when you focus on the baby.”

“I could try, I suppose,” he said, lifting his head. “Heaven knows I need every ounce of mental energy I have to present the prosecution’s case.” He nodded. “What you’re saying is logical and wise. Whether or not I can do it remains to be seen.”

“I understand.”

“I care about you, Jenny. I’m worried about the fact that you fainted. You scared the hell out of me. Will you promise me that you’ll make an appointment with your doctor and tell him what happened? Then let me know what he says about it? I need to know that you’re all right, that the baby is all right. Will you go to the doctor as soon as possible?”

“Yes,” she whispered, feeling the ache of fresh tears in her throat.

Evan was being so kind, she thought. Kind. What a bland word. People were kind to old ladies who needed help crossing the street, kind to a puppy with a burr in its paw, kind to the person who needed a door opened for them because their arms were full of packages.

But they didn’t love that old lady, that puppy, that person. They were just there, allowing a momentary surge of kindness to rise to the fore. That’s what Evan had to offer her…kindness. It was better than his earlier anger, but still…

What was she to do with her feelings for him? The kernel of love for him within her that was steadily growing? How did she snuff it out, make certain that it no longer existed, didn’t have the power to cause her pain beyond measure? How did a woman stop falling in love with a man such as this one?

She didn’t know.

But somehow, somehow, that’s exactly what she was going to have to do.

“Jennifer?” Evan said, bringing her from her jumbled thoughts.

“Yes?”

“Will you be all right if I leave you here on your own?” Evan said, getting to his feet. “I…um…I need some time alone to… But I’ll stay if you feel dizzy or-”

“No, I’m fine,” Jennifer interrupted. “Really. I’m as good as new. I’m sorry I caused such a scene with my dramatic… Well, maybe it’s just as well that everything is out in the open. I just don’t want this to keep you from having total concentration on the trial.”

“And I want you to go to the doctor.”

“I will. I promise.”

“And I promise you that I’ll work very hard at focusing on the Gardner case…for now.” Evan paused. “Well, if you’re sure you’re okay, I’ll shove off. Don’t get up. I’ll let myself out.” He strode across the room to the door.

“Evan,” Jennifer said quickly, shifting on the sofa so she could see him.

Don’t go, her mind screamed. Don’t leave me alone. I want you here, with me. I need you, Evan. If you love me even a little bit, and I allowed the love I have for you to grow, nurtured it, we could have it all, don’t you see? A future together. You, me, our baby. We’d be a family. Husband, wife, child… Oh, Evan, please? I…

“Yes?” Evan said. “What is it, Jennifer?”

She drew a shaky breath, then dashed away an errant tear that spilled onto one cheek.

“Nothing,” she said.

Evan stared at her for a long moment, then left the apartment, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.

Chapter 5

L ate the next afternoon Jennifer approached Evan’s office and saw that Belinda had already left for the day. The door to Evan’s office was open and Jennifer stopped three feet away, gathering her courage to go farther.

Maybe she’d wait until tomorrow, she thought, to put the “we’re going to have to work together until the trial is over” bit into motion. Yes, that was a good idea. She and Evan had had a very emotional confrontation yesterday and a little time and distance would…

No, she was just postponing the inevitable and the longer she put it off, the more nervous she would become. It would be better to just march right in there and ask Evan if anything had transpired during his day that she needed to know about for the film.

Right, Jennifer thought, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin. She was a mature woman and she could handle this. She was a mature, pregnant woman and her child’s mother was not a wuss.

Jennifer walked slowly, very slowly, toward the doorway of Evan’s office. She peered inside just as a loud sneeze echoed through the open door of the conference room beyond.

“Evan?” Jennifer called as she made her way toward the large room.

“In here, Jennifer,” he yelled.

Just as Jennifer entered the conference room, thunder rumbled and a bright flash of lightning zigzagged across the darkening sky beyond the bank of windows. The lights flickered, then steadied. Evan sneezed again.

“Bless you,” Jennifer said. “Did you get caught in that cold rain that’s been whipping about out there all day?” She glanced at the ceiling. “And is picking up force even as we speak?”

“Yes, I did,” Evan said. “I went out to lunch with the mayor and got drenched. I’ve been slogging around in a wet suit ever since.” He frowned. “We forgot the greetings. Hello, Jennifer, how are you? You should have gone on home where it’s dry and warm.”

“Hello, Evan. I’m dry and warm standing here because some of us have the good sense to carry an umbrella on a day like this. Please excuse my casual attire, but jeans and a sweatshirt are my fashion statement when I’m editing.”

“You look comfortable.” Evan rolled up the sleeves on his shirt, his damp suit coat already draped on a chair to dry. “Have you had dinner?”

“No, I came straight here from the studio. I’m eager to know how things went with your witnesses.”

“Why don’t I get a pizza delivered up here?” Evan said. “The witnesses I dealt with today are as prepared as they are going to be. What I’m going to tackle now is examining the jury pool applications. If you’re willing to keep it off the record, I’d appreciate your input. If you don’t mind. Of course, if you’d rather not, that’s fine, too.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jennifer said, then sighed. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, we sound like people reading lines in a play. I guess our working together is going to be more difficult than I thought, but it’s necessary. We’ve got to attempt to relax, just be ourselves.”

“That’s a tough assignment,” Evan said gruffly, “when there are so many unresolved issues between us.”

“Which will be addressed after the trial,” Jennifer said. “Except… Oh, dear.”

“Oh, dear…what?”

“Well, I promised you I’d go to the doctor and I did, but I also said it would be best if we didn’t discuss the baby until the trial was over and…”

Evan sat down at the conference table and pointed to the chair opposite him.

“Sit,” he said. “Tell me everything the doctor said. Why did you faint? People don’t faint for no reason. There has to be an explanation for it. What did he say was wrong with you that made you conk out like that?”

“Whoa,” Jennifer said, raising one hand palm out. “Give me a chance to speak. The doctor said my blood pressure was a bit low but he’d keep an eye on it and it should straighten out once my body adjusts to being pregnant.

“Low blood pressure is better than blood pressure that is too high. Get it? I should…hopefully…be finishing up my tour of duty with morning sickness and that will help settle things down. He said I was doing just fine.”

“Fainting is not doing fine,” Evan said, shaking his head.

“Fainting when you’re pregnant is doing fine. Are we going to argue about this?”

“No. No, of course not. I was worried, that’s all. So, okay. You’re doing fine.”

“Yes.” Jennifer paused. “Evan, there’s one other thing I need to tell you about my visit to the doctor today.”

Evan sat bolt upward in the chair. “What? What else? What is it?”

“I had an ultrasound and, oh, it was amazing. The printer wasn’t working so I didn’t get a picture to take home but… Anyway, I thought you might like to know…well, maybe it doesn’t matter that much to you but…”

“Damn it, Jennifer,” Evan interrupted, “cut to the chase. You’re scaring me to death here.”

“Okay, okay.” Jennifer drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The baby…our baby…Evan, it’s a boy. I’m…you’re…we’re…going to have a…a son.”

Evan got to his feet, opened his mouth to speak, then snapped it closed again when nothing came out. He plunked back onto the chair and leaned toward Jennifer.

“A son?” he said, awe ringing in his voice. “It’s a boy? A…a son? Are you sure?”

Jennifer laughed, the musical sound seeming to fill the room to overflowing.

“Pictures don’t lie,” she said, still smiling. “The ultrasound was so clear it just took my breath away and, yes, believe me, it was very obvious that our baby has certain equipment, shall we say, that baby girls don’t have.

“My doctor looked at the screen and said, ‘Well, hello, young man.’ I saw him, Evan. I saw his little heart beating and…” She laughed again. “Of course, I wept buckets, but I swear I’ll never forget that moment when I saw…” She flapped one hand in the air. “Don’t get me started.”

Evan sank back in the chair. “A son. Whew. Add that to the stack of ‘I need time to adjust to this’ stuff. Are you disappointed? I mean, don’t women usually want a girl they dress in frilly, pink things, and put bows in their hair and on their socks and…”

“Bows on their socks?”

Evan shrugged. “I saw a little girl in a restaurant once who had bows on her socks. She was in a high-chair and kept lifting her feet so she could see those bows. Her mother finally took off her shoes and socks so the kid would eat some dinner.” He paused. “So, are you? Disappointed that it’s a boy?”

“Not in a million years,” Jennifer said, smiling.

Evan matched her smile and their gazes met across the table. The room seemed to disappear into a mist, leaving a private place where awareness was heightened and desire began to hum, gain force and heat within them. Jennifer was the first to break the sensuous spell.

“The jury applications,” she said, tearing her gaze from Evan’s. “We need to get to work, Evan.”

“What? Oh, right. Work. Yeah.” Evan got to his feet. “I’ll order a pizza first, then we’ll start tackling these things. You don’t have to do this, you know. I mean, if you’re rather go on home I’ll understand.”

“Do you want me to leave?” she said, looking up at him.

“No,” he said quietly. “No, Jenny, I don’t want you to leave.”

“Then I’ll stay.”

“Thank you.” Evan smiled. “Let’s see how much of an argument we can make out of what toppings we want on this pizza I’m going to order.”

“You’re on,” Jennifer said, laughing.

Four hours later Jennifer yawned, then stretched out on the sofa instead of being curled up in the corner of it with her shoes off.

“I like that one,” she said. “The fact that she’s a single woman with no children is excellent. She won’t get caught up in the mental scenario that I did about Cecelia Gardner having lost one son and now here is the other on trial and blah, blah, blah.

“Boy, I sure was wrong on that score. Cecelia isn’t a mother, she’s a walking, talking social machine.” Jennifer yawned again. “Anyway, I vote that you try to get that woman on the jury. I don’t think she’d declare Lyle innocent out of sympathy for Cecelia.”

“Mmm.” Evan nodded, then wrote a note on the top of the paper.

Rain beat against the windows with a frenzy, the thunder continued to roar and lightning followed closely behind each rumble.

“That’s enough of this stuff for one night,” Evan said, rotating his neck. “These people on the applications are all starting to sound the same to me. I think we should… Jennifer?”

Evan got to his feet and moved around the long table to stand next to the sofa where Jennifer had drifted off to sleep. She had shifted to her side, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, the other splayed on her sweatshirt-covered stomach.

So beautiful, he thought, his heart quickening as he drank in the sight of her. In the future he might work late one night…not often, but occasionally…then come home and move quietly through their home so as not to waken her. Then he’d stand next to their bed and gaze at her, just as he was now. He could find a way, he could, to cut back on the long hours he worked. He could. He would.

He’d shed his clothes and slip beneath the blankets and… No, no, wait a minute. He’d forgotten something. On the way to his and Jennifer’s bedroom, he would have stopped first in the nursery down the hall to check on their baby, their son, to watch the little miracle they had created together sleep the sleep of the innocent.

An explosion of thunder jerked Evan from his thoughts. In the next instant the lightning lit up the room with an eerie glow, then the lights went out, cloaking the room and the city beyond the windows in inky darkness.

Evan reached blindly for a chair, connected with one, then turned it around so he could sit next to the sofa. He settled onto it and stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles.

He’d stay right here, he thought, in case Jennifer woke up and was momentarily frightened by the darkness. Oh, yes, he’d stay right here next to his sweet Jenny.

Evan slouched lower in the chair so he could rest his head on the top and allowed himself the luxury of being aware of nothing but Jennifer.

She’d been a tremendous help to him as he’d gone over the jury applications, he mused. Her input had been intelligent, and she’d often thought of details about the person that hadn’t occurred to him. He couldn’t think of even one woman he’d dated who was remotely interested in the inner workings of his career. He and Jennifer were good together, a team, like two pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly.

Just as they would as wife and husband.

Just as they would as mother and father.

Just as they would…forever.

“Ah, man,” Evan said wearily, dragging his hands down his face.

He couldn’t go on like this.

Once this trial was over he was going to sit down with Jennifer, start at the top of the list of issues they needed to address and hit them, one after another, until solutions were found and questions answered.

Yes, once he won this trial for Jennifer so her documentary would have the power and punch he knew she needed and wanted, he…

Evan straightened in the chair, his mind racing and the sudden wild tempo of his heart echoing in his ears.

What? he thought. Repeat that one, Stone. Once he won this trial for Jennifer? Not for the feather in his cap? Not for the very basics of justice being served? Not for the satisfaction of knowing that Lyle would pay the price for killing his brother?

Those things were probably there somewhere in his beleaguered mind, but first and foremost was the deep and heartfelt desire to not disappoint Jennifer, not fall short in her eyes, or cause her problems with her project which her boss might decide to chuck altogether if it had a dud of an ending where the profiled D.A. lost the big case in question.

Damn it, he had to get a conviction. He had to win…for Jennifer.

His eyes having become adjusted to the darkness, Evan looked at Jennifer as she slept, a smile forming on his lips.

For Jennifer, his mind echoed. And there it was. The truth. He was, indeed, deeply in love with Jennifer Anderson.

How strange and complex was this thing called love. It brought to the fore aspects of himself he didn’t even know he possessed, a whole section of his inner being that had been hidden from him. It made him complete, whole, filled with awe, and a wondrous sense of excitement and joy that was intertwined somehow with a soothing warmth of peace, of knowing he’d journeyed far and had finally arrived where he was meant to be.

Oh, he liked being in love with Jennifer. She brought out the best in him, made him put her first in importance, yet it somehow didn’t diminish his sense of self. The very thought of being the one to make her smile, laugh right out loud, be the cause of her incredible green eyes changing to a smoky hue of desire for him, him, made him feel ten feet tall.

Evan leaned forward and gently brushed a silky strand of hair from Jennifer’s cheek.

“I love you, sweet Jenny,” he whispered.

And now there was more. She brought so much into his life and now there was more. A son. Their son. Their baby boy. He wanted to win this trial for his son, too, so that someday when he told his boy what had been going on when his parents fell in love, he’d be able to announce that he had won the trial in question and justice had been served.

He had to win in that courtroom.

For Jennifer.

For their son.

For himself.

And when the trial was over he was going to tell Jennifer how he felt about her, ask her to marry him, and wait to see if he was to become the happiest man in the world, or one who was sliced and diced.

Yes, a momentous question had been answered tonight…he was irrevocably in love with his sweet Jenny, but a great many questions remained.

The lights suddenly came back on, startling Evan so much that he jumped to his feet and bumped the sofa. Jennifer’s eyes popped open.

“What?” She struggled to sit up, then blinked and shook her head. “Did I fall asleep? Well, that’s mortifying. Big help I am.” She laughed. “I’m sorry, Evan. I feel like a three-year-old who needed a nap and just conked out.”

“Which means you’re a very exhausted lady, who is calling it quits for today and heading home,” he said, extending one hand toward her. “Up. Out.” He glanced at the ceiling. “The storm is even cooperating, and it’s not raining so hard.”

Jennifer placed one hand in Evan’s and allowed him to assist her to her feet. She made no effort to resist when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, nestling her to his rugged body.

“Could I interest you in the last slice of cold pizza?” he said, his voice gritty.

“No, thank you,” she said, her arms floating up to encircle his neck.

“Well, how about the last couple of inches of your soda, which is now flat and warm?”

“No, thank you.”

“I can offer you about three or four hours more work examining jury applications?”

“No, thank you,” she said, smiling. “I’m brain dead. They’d all sound the same at this point.”

“Well, shucks and darn, ma’am,” he said, “I guess I don’t have one thing to give to you that you’d be interested in.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Mr. Stone,” she said, shifting to tiptoes and brushing her lips over his once, then twice, then gaining courage to do it one more time as she felt a tremor sweep through him. “I think you have exactly what I want and need right now.”

“Oh?”

“Kiss me, Evan,” she whispered.

“I live to serve,” he said, then his mouth melted over hers.

It was an explosion of senses. The kiss was as wild and intense and raging as out of control as the storm outside had been. The thunder of nature’s fury was now the pounding tempo of their hearts. The brilliant lightning was the razor-sharp awareness of the marvelous differences between a body soft and a body hard and muscled that made them perfect counterparts. The swirling, beating rain was transformed into churning, pulsing desire deep within them.

But while the storm beyond the windows had been cold, what was consuming them was hot, burning flames that licked throughout them. The kiss intensified and breathing became labored as passions soared.

Evan lifted his head a fraction of an inch and spoke close to Jennifer’s moist lips.

“I want you so damn much,” he said, hardly recognizing the raspy tone of his own voice. “Ah, Jenny, you have no idea how much…”

I love you, Evan’s mind hammered. No, this was not the time or place to declare his love for her. The Gardner trial possessed too much of them now. He wanted that done, finished, the slate wiped clean so he could concentrate totally on the future. A future he could only hope and pray would be spent with Jennifer.

“I want you, too, Evan,” she said softly.

“Jenny, I…” Evan started.

“Yo, in the room,” a man yelled. “Cleaning service. Is anyone here?”

Jennifer and Evan jerked apart, then each took a step backward. Jennifer fluffed her hair, Evan dragged a hand through his.

“Yes,” Evan hollered, then cleared his throat. “We were working in here, but we’re finished for tonight. Come on in.”

A man appeared in the doorway to the conference room, pulling a cart stacked with supplies.

“Howdy, folks,” he said. “You public servant types sure do put in long hours.”

“Your tax dollars at work,” Evan said, “but we’re gone. Please don’t disturb any of the papers on the table. It might look like chaos, but it’s organized chaos, believe it or not.”

“Got it,” the man said, dragging the cart forward. “You must be getting ready for that Gardner trial, huh? Man, you can’t pick up a newspaper, or turn on the tube, without having it in front of your nose. It’s the topic at our dinner table at home every night, too. Guess folks are waiting to see if the rich folks in Chicago get to play by different rules than us poor slaving stiffs.”

Evan frowned. “Really? There’s some question about that? Whether Lyle will get off because he comes from a wealthy, powerful family?”

“Well, sure,” the man said.

“If I don’t get a conviction,” Evan said, “won’t people realize that I just didn’t have enough evidence to convince the jury of Gardner ’s guilt beyond a reasonable doubt?”

“Doubt it,” the man said, shaking his head.

“That’s absurd,” Jennifer said, planting her hands on her hips. “Wealth, power, whatever, will have nothing whatsoever to do with the outcome of this trial. Gracious, people have no idea how many long days this man…” she pointed at Evan, who was staring at her with wide eyes “…their district attorney, has put in to prepare his case against Lyle Gardner.

“Well, guess what? When the documentary I’m working on about Evan Stone and his staff is aired on television, the citizens of Chicago and beyond are going to know the truth. The rich and famous get no special favors when they have broken the law. No, sir. Never. Have you got that? If you don’t, then make sure you watch my film because…”

“Um…Jennifer?” Evan interrupted, chuckling softly. “I think you’ve made your point.”

“Oh, yes, ma’am,” the man said. “Whew. You sure do have a temper there, ma’am, when you get going. And I believe every word you said, by golly. I surely do. Mr. Stone, you’d better count your lucky stars this lady is on your side.”

“Oh, I count those lucky stars every day,” Evan said, smiling at Jennifer.

“I…I guess I got a little carried away,” Jennifer said, feeling a warm flush of embarrassment stain her cheeks. “I’m sorry. It’s just that… What I mean is…” She threw up her hands. “Never mind. I need some sleep.”

And he needed to spend the rest of his life with this dynamite lady, Evan thought, his heart swelling with love for Jennifer.

Chapter 6

T he next day was a study in frustration for Evan. Reporters were calling one after the next in response to Cecelia’s accusation that the governor, the mayor and District Attorney Evan Stone had concocted a conspiracy against her family because they feared the power the Gardners possessed. The three men had manufactured phony evidence against her deceased son Franklin, who was unable to defend himself, and were attempting to convict her remaining son Lyle of killing his own brother with a flimsy case that should be thrown out of court.

Evan found it impossible to concentrate as the telephone rang constantly, knowing that Belinda was being harassed and growing weary of the “no comment” she repeated over and over again.

Jennifer telephoned Evan to say that she and Sticks would be working very late at the studio. Her producer wanted her to thread the new development into her documentary to illustrate the level of pressure the D.A. was operating under.

The next two days were more of the same, resulting in short tempers and frazzled nerves in the D.A.’s office, and the added frustration that both Jennifer and Evan felt, but didn’t voice, of being unable to see each other, not even during the work-packed weekend.

Before it seemed possible Evan found himself entering the courtroom for the first day of the trial of Lyle Gardner, having shoved his way through the maze of reporters in the hallway, his stormy glare taking the place of anything he might have said.

Evan had managed to go over the remainder of the jury applications, acutely aware of how much he missed having Jennifer’s assistance in the chore as well as simply missing Jennifer herself to the point that he ached to see, hold and kiss her.

He placed his briefcase on the table designated to be his during the trial, removed some files, pens and a legal pad, then glanced up to meet the gaze of Lyle Gardner who sat at the table across the courtroom with his attorney.

Lyle had straight, slicked-back black hair, blue eyes, and the puffy, heavy-set physique of someone who had indulged in too many lavish meals and very little exercise. Lyle smirked and shook his head as he looked at Evan with blatant disdain.

Oh, what he wouldn’t give, Evan thought, as he settled onto his chair, to walk across that room and punch that smug expression off Lyle’s face.

Evan forced himself to tear his gaze from Lyle’s and look at the packed rows of spectators, immediately seeing Cecelia sitting in the first row directly behind her son. The remainder of the crowd was a sea of faces that did not include Jennifer’s. He knew she wouldn’t be there during the selection of the jury, but…

He’d telephoned her late last night but had obviously wakened her, resulting in a rather short, foggy conversation that did nothing more than emphasize how exhausted they both were.

Get a grip, Stone, Evan ordered himself. He was as prepared as he was going to get for this trial, and it was going to require his total concentration and expertise to win a conviction. His case was still built on circumstantial evidence and he knew it. Detectives Waters and Wilson and their assigned team of uniformed officers had made no progress in finding the incriminating signet ring.

“All rise,” a man bellowed.

Here we go, Evan thought, getting to his feet as the judge entered the courtroom. And heaven help me.

Despite Evan’s attempts to slow things down to give the detectives and uniformed officers every possible minute to find the missing ring, the jury and alternates were selected by the end of the second day in court. The judge announced that the trial would begin the following morning with the opening statement from the district attorney.

Evan waited until the courtroom was empty with the hope that he could avoid another confrontation with the reporters, then moved around the table just as one of the double doors opened and Jennifer entered, wearing jeans and a pretty red sweater.

“Hi, stranger,” she said, hurrying toward Evan.

Evan left his briefcase on the table and rushed to meet her, immediately pulling her into his arms and kissing her deeply.

“My goodness,” Jennifer said, when Evan finally ended the searing kiss, “that was quite a greeting from a stranger.”

“Indeed, it was,” Evan said, not releasing his hold on her. “Think what I might have done if I knew who you were, ma’am.”

“It boggles the mind.” She smiled. “I’m glad I caught you because I have something of extreme importance to tell you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.” Jennifer laughed. “I’ve missed you. How’s that for a bulletin?”

“It warms the cockles of my heart, and I’ve missed you, too. How are you feeling? How is our son? How is the editing of the film going?”

“Fine, fine, and slow, per usual. My boss is pushing us to finish editing what we have, then keeping up with it when we start filming again, which I understand from the clerk will be tomorrow because the trial is starting. My boss wants to air the documentary very soon after the trial ends and it’s still fresh in the public’s mind.”

“Whew.” Evan stepped away from Jennifer and began to wander around the area in front of the judge’s bench. “Talk about putting the pressure on. What if…” He stopped and looked at Jennifer who was now about three feet away from him. “Jennifer, has it occurred to your boss that I might not win this case for you?”

Jennifer slid onto the edge of the table where Evan’s briefcase still sat, allowing her feet to dangle above the floor. She cocked her head slightly to one side, a confused expression on her face.

“Win this case for me?”

Evan dragged a restless hand through his hair. “Yes. You’ve worked so damn hard on this documentary, given it everything you have.

“If I lose this battle and Lyle walks, won’t your boss reconsider even airing the film? I get a knot in my gut just thinking about the possibility that all your hours will have been for nothing, Jenny. I can’t stand the thought of…of letting you down like that. And I can’t bear the thought of having to tell our son that I didn’t come through for his mother when she really needed me to.”

Never, Jennifer thought, as tears misted her eyes, never in her entire life had she felt so…so loved, so cherished and special. Evan wasn’t even considering the damage that might be done to his own reputation if he lost the case against Lyle Gardner. Fuel would be added to the fire of the smoldering idea the public had that the rich got a break in the Chicago justice system.

Evan was focused on what losing would mean to her, and later to their son.

Oh, Evan, she thought, dashing away a tear that spilled onto her cheek. He loved her. He did. What he had just said was like a precious gift he was giving her, a declaration of his love she would cherish forever.

Should she gather her courage and declare her love for him? Oh, how she yearned to tell him what was in her heart.

Jennifer glanced quickly around the courtroom.

But no, not now. The majority of his concentration and mental energies must be centered on the trial.

It wasn’t fair to him to ask him to envision a future with her…and their baby…when he had to stay in the present and the enormous challenge he was facing.

“You look upset,” Evan said, bringing Jennifer from her racing thoughts. “I guess you haven’t considered the possibility that you would suffer from my defeat in this room. There’s more at stake here than whether or not a guilty man goes free. Your career could be dealt a devastating blow if I don’t get a conviction against Lyle Gardner.”

“No, no, Evan. It’s not like that. I’ve talked at length with my boss about this. We’re prepared for whatever the outcome of the trial is. If Lyle Gardner is found guilty we take the approach that your detectives combined with your expertise in the courtroom made it possible for justice to be served.

“If Lyle gets off? We’ll show that even the best efforts don’t always bring the proper results, whether the defendant is rich or poor, but that you have to move on to the next case, continue to believe in the system, refuse to allow a defeat to diminish your dedication.”

Evan nodded.

“But, Evan?” she said, a sob catching in her throat. “The fact that you were worried about me, about my career, what it might do to me if you lost this case, means more to me than I can ever begin to tell you. Thank you. Oh, that’s too small, too insignificant to express…” Tears closed her throat and she stopped speaking as she shook her head.

Evan closed the distance between them and planted his hands on either side of her bottom where she sat on the table, trapping her in place.

“You’ve got it covered? You’ll be all right no matter what the outcome of this trial is?”

Jennifer nodded.

“Oh, thank God for that. You have no idea how I’ve worried about you and… Well, that’s one less thing to keep me awake at night.” He smiled. “But I have plenty left to guarantee the tossing and turning routine. I am so glad, though, that we had this conversation.”

“I believe Belinda would call it communication,” Jennifer said, managing to produce a wobbly smile.

“Yeah, I think you’re right. Belinda is very big on communication. When this trial is over, Jenny, you and I are going to have a very serious session of communication about…things.”

“I…” Jennifer started, then stopped for a moment. “Yes, we need to do that. Communicate, discuss in depth some very important…things.”

Evan nodded, then straightened and swept his gaze over the courtroom.

“Do you realize,” he said quietly, “how many lives are changed forever in rooms just like this one every day across this country? What an awesome responsibility it is for those of us who play a part in that. It’s big. It’s heavy. It can consume a person if they’re not aware that it’s happening.”

Jennifer was hardly breathing as she listened intently to what Evan was saying.

“It consumed me,” he said, turning to face her again. “But I’m going to change that, get a healthier balance in my life. Delegate, delegate, delegate. I think that somewhere along the line I started to have a godlike complex of believing that I had to do it if it was going to be done right. That’s crazy. My staff is the cream of the crop. I intend to make room in my life for more, much more than just my career, sweet Jenny.”

Will that more include me, Evan? Jennifer thought. Loving me? Wanting me to become your wife, not just the mother of your son? Oh, Jennifer, don’t do this to yourself. Keep the daydreams separate from what might still be pipe dreams.

“That’s…good. I’m thinking along those lines myself. Once I have the baby I don’t intend to travel so much. And I’m certainly entitled to some time off between assignments, too, and… Well, I want a healthier balance, to quote you, in my life, too. I…What’s that noise?”

“I don’t hear… Oh, cripe, it’s my cell phone. I put it in my briefcase.”

Evan hurried to the table, flipped the catches on the briefcase and retrieved the ringing phone, pushing the appropriate button.

“Stone,” he said.

Jennifer watched with building concern as Evan stiffened as he listened to what was being said, then the color drained from his face.

“Evan?” she whispered, sliding off the table. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

He held up one hand to silence her and she pressed her lips together as she continued to stare at him, her heart racing.

“The statement is signed?” Evan said. “And he’ll testify?… You did? You took it to Maggie and she’s positive that it’s… Do you realize what this means? What you’ve done…? Yes… Yes…”

“Yes, yes…what?” Jennifer whispered, clutching her hands beneath her chin.

“I don’t know what to say,” Evan continued, shaking his head. “You two deserve a raise? Steak dinners? Letters of commendation from the mayor? The governor? Hell, the president of the United States. Name it, it’s yours… A vacation, huh? Sold… Yeah, fine. I’ll connect with you back at my office.” He laughed. “Do you like my office? Hell, I’ll give you my office if you want it… No?… Okay. Later.”

Evan pressed the button on the small phone, then set it in the briefcase with exacting care. The color began to return slowly to his face as he snapped the latches on the briefcase in seemingly slow motion.

“Evan Stone,” Jennifer said, her voice trembling, “if you don’t tell me what just happened I swear I’m going to… Oh!”

Jennifer gasped in shock as Evan turned, grabbed her waist and twirled her around and around until she yelled for mercy. He set her on her feet, steadied her as she staggered slightly, then framed her face in his hands.

“That call,” he said, his voice choked with emotion, “was from Detective Extraordinaire Colin Waters, who had Detective Extraordinaire Darien Wilson standing at his elbow as he spoke to me.”

“And?”

“Ah, Jenny, they did it. Those two found the signet ring.”

“Oh, my God,” Jennifer whispered.

“Lyle pawned it. I guess he figured it was tucked safely away in a seedy side of town across the state line in Michigan where no one would ever think to go looking. The ring is worth a bunch of bucks, and he was too greedy to just toss the thing in a Dumpster.

“Maggie has examined the ring, will testify that it’s the one that made the marks on Franklin’s face, and the pawnshop owner has positively identified Lyle from a picture as the man who brought in the ring, having signed a statement to that fact. We’ve got him, Jennifer. Lyle Gardner is going down.”

“You’re going to win,” Jennifer said, awe ringing in her voice. “Oh, Evan, I’m so thrilled, so… I don’t know what to say.”

“I do,” he said, suddenly very serious. “This trial is over except for the shouting. Lyle has no defense left. It’s over.”

“Well, yes, I guess it is, isn’t it? You’ll tell the judge and Lyle’s attorney that… Oh, my.”

“So, yes, sweet Jenny,” Evan said, dropping his hands from her face, and running a trembling hand down his tie in a nervous gesture, “I do know what to say now. It’s time. It’s time to…communicate.”

“It is?” she said, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Yes, it is.” Evan drew a steadying breath. “Jennifer Anderson, I, Evan Stone, am deeply and forever and a day in love with you.”

“I…I beg your pardon?”

“I love you, Jenny. I swear I do. You’re my life, my other half, my soul mate, my…I love you. I love you, I love our baby. Please, oh, please, say that you love me, too. Say that you’ll marry me and stay by my side as my partner until death parts us. Say that we’ll raise our son together, be a family, and that you’ll help me pick out a name for our dog and cat, create a home out of a house we’ll buy and…I’ll cut way back on my work hours and… Oh, God, Jennifer, do you love me as much as I love you?”

Tears filled Jennifer’s eyes. “Yes. Oh, Evan, yes. I love you beyond measure. You make me complete, so glad that I’m a woman who can be a counterpart to you, my magnificent man, and…I hoped, I prayed, that you loved me in return and…”

“Will you marry me? Please?”

“Yes! Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes…”

Evan pulled her close and kissed her until they were both trembling with desire and emotions too deep and complex to give name to. When he broke the kiss, he made no attempt to hide the tears glistening in his eyes that matched those shimmering in Jennifer’s.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice husky. “Thank you for agreeing to be my wife, for making me the happiest man on this planet, for just being you. And, Jenny? Thank you for the greatest gift a woman can give a man. Our baby. Our miracle. I’m going to be a father. I love you and our son so very much.”

“And I love you and our son so very much,” she said, smiling through her tears.

“I don’t want to leave you right now for anything, but I have to get things rolling about the ring being found. I have a feeling that Lyle, who will be not so smug, will be more than ready to plea bargain.”

“I understand. I’ll go to my apartment and wait for you there. Sticks and I will film the press conference later when you announce the wonderful news.”

“This could take a while. I might be very late.”

“Evan, I’ve waited a lifetime for you. A few more hours are fine. I’ll be there…waiting for you to come home.”

Evan smiled, brushed his lips over Jennifer’s, then picked up his briefcase.

“I’ll get there as soon as I possibly can,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Yes, I… No, wait a minute,” Jennifer said, pointing one finger in the air. “I have one teeny-tiny question first.”

“Whip it on me.”

“What dog and cat?”

Their mingled laughter echoed through the big, empty room as Evan encircled Jennifer’s shoulders with one arm and they walked through the double doors, taking the first steps toward their future, their forever…together.

“I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

“Yes,” Jennifer said, then watched her future husband stride out of view down the corridor.

It was nearly nine o’clock when Evan knocked on the door of Jennifer’s apartment. She rushed to greet him, frowning when she saw the exhaustion etched on his rugged features.

“You’re so tired,” she said, as Evan sank onto the sofa.

“You should have called and told me you were going home to get some sleep.”

“Not a chance,” he said, tugging on her hand so she’d settle next to him, which Jennifer did willingly. “Today the woman I love agreed to marry me, spend the rest of her life with me. Sleep can wait. Seeing you tonight definitely could not.”

“That’s sweet.” She smiled at him warmly. “Now, tell me what happened.”

“His lawyer wasted a lot of time with bluster and blow,” Evan said, yanking the knot of his tie down and undoing the two top buttons of his shirt. “You know, what does a ring prove? Anyone could have been wearing it the night Franklin Gardner was killed to frame Lyle and blah, blah, blah. But anyone didn’t pawn it, Lyle did, and he finally confessed to the whole thing.

“To make a long story short, my Jenny, they copped a plea for manslaughter in the second degree due to the fact that Franklin actually died from whacking his head on the table, not from being beat up by Lyle, or stabbed with the ice pick.”

“Well, it’s better than having the creep walking the streets.”

“True. Oh, Cecelia was there during the negotiations, which was interesting.”

“Why? What did she say?”

“Nothing. She… I don’t know how to explain it…but she seemed to shrink, turn old before my eyes. I think it finally hit her that all the money in the world couldn’t solve this problem. When we reached an agreement of fifteen years with no parole, she got up and walked out of the room. Lyle called to her, but she didn’t even look at him. Lyle just put his head down on the table and started to cry.”

“My goodness.”

“Chalk up one for the good guys. We won. Justice has been served. But, Jenny? That isn’t why this day will always be very special to me, why I’ll see this date on the calendar in years to come and smile, remembering. Remembering that the classy lady who stole my heart, the wonderful woman, the mother of my son, agreed to be my wife on this day.”

“You’re going to make me cry,” Jennifer said, then sniffled.

“No, I’m going to make love to you, with you, if you’re willing,” Evan said, then brushed his lips over hers. “I love you, Jenny.”

“And I love you, Evan.”

Evan kissed Jennifer deeply, then with no more words spoken and none needed, they went down the hallway to her bedroom.

And it was magic.

Clothes seemed to float away with a mere thought, and the blankets on the bed were swept back by an invisible hand to reveal cool mint-green sheets that beckoned.

They tumbled onto the bed, then stilled, sweeping their gazes over each other in the golden glow of the small lamp on the nightstand. A body soft and womanly, with a tummy just beginning to show a gentle rise where a son was being nurtured. A body hard and masculine and taut with muscles. Perfect counterparts. And minds that matched with the knowledge that this was theirs to have, to rejoice in, because…

“We’re in love for all time,” Jennifer said, her voice ringing with awe and wonder. “That’s where the magic comes from, Evan…our love. This is how it should be. This is the difference between when we made love the first time and now…the love, the commitment to forever, the pledge.”

“We’ll always have the magic, Jenny.”

They kissed, caressed, explored and discovered anew the mysteries of each other, marveling, savoring, memorizing. The desire within them burned hotter, causing breathing to quicken and hearts to race.

When they could bear no more they joined, a soft sigh of pleasure escaping from Jennifer’s lips as a groan rumbled deep in Evan’s chest. He began to move within her, deep so deep, increasing the tempo, taking her with him as she matched him beat for beat. The heat coiled tighter, hotter. The moment of release neared. It was ecstasy. It was theirs.

And now…it was very, very right.

They were flung into oblivion seconds apart, each calling the name of the other, holding tightly through the wondrous journey, then drifting slowly back to lay close, not speaking, just feeling. Remembering. Tucking it all away in private chambers of hearts that wished to keep the memories of what they had just shared.

They slept. Heads resting on the same pillow and hands splayed on the other’s moist, cooling skin. Neither dreamed because no fantasy produced by subconscious minds could be more glorious than the reality of what had transpired.

When fingers of sunlight inched beneath the curtains on the window at dawn and tiptoed across the bed to wake Jennifer, she opened her eyes, then turned her head on the pillow to see Evan sleeping peacefully beside her.

“That’s your daddy, baby boy,” she whispered, spreading one hand over her bare stomach. “That magnificent, warm, funny, intelligent, loving man is your daddy.”

“Who is in love with your mommy, baby boy,” Evan said, as he slowly opened his eyes, then smiled at Jennifer. “Forever.”

Chapter 7

A week later Jennifer stood in front of her open closet door wearing a silky slip and a frown.

“I don’t have a thing to wear,” she said aloud.

A newspaper suddenly appeared inches before her nose and she gasped in surprise before smiling and tilting her head back to look up at Evan who stood behind her.

“You want me to wear a creation made of newspaper to this shindig?” she said.

“No,” Evan said, chuckling. “I just thought you’d like to see yet another rave review about your documentary. It was aired three nights ago and the accolades are still pouring in.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her freshly shampooed hair. “Congratulations…again. May I have your autograph?”

“I think I should ask for your autograph,” she said. “After all, you were the star of the famous flick. Evan, move that paper before you get news-print on my nose. Oh, I really don’t have a thing to wear.”

Evan tossed the paper onto the bed, then narrowed his eyes as he scrutinized the clothing choices on the hangers. He lifted the material of the full skirt of a silk, teal-blue dress with a pleated top and long sleeves.

“This is the dress you wore the night the mayor ordered us to have dinner together. I like it. It’s very pretty. Simple but classy.”

“You remember what I wore that night? That was several months ago.”

“I remember,” he said, looking directly into her eyes, “every detail of that night.”

“Really? You’re so sentimental. I don’t remember that you wore a dark brown suit that did wonderful things for your thick brown hair and fudge-sauce eyes. Nor do I recall that you added a tan shirt, chocolate-colored tie with a matching handkerchief peeking above the pocket of your jacket.”

Evan laughed. “Well, tonight I’m wearing a blue suit, pale blue shirt, as you can see, and a dark blue tie. In other words, I’m ready to go so pick something or we’re going to be late for the mayor’s party.”

“Here we are again. Going out because the mayor has spoken.”

“Yes, but this time we’re not squabbling.”

Jennifer wrapped her arms around Evan’s neck.

“Definitely not squabbling,” she said, then outlined his lips with the tip of her tongue.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he said, pulling her arms free. “You start that and we’ll never leave this bedroom, Ms. Anderson.”

“That’s the plan, Mr. Stone,” she said, batting her eyelashes at him.

“We’ll make an early night of it. I know you’ve put in some very long hours to get that documentary ready to be aired and you must still be tired, but we really do need to make an appearance at this party.”

“Okay, okay. I guess I’ll wear the teal-blue number that you remember so well. The top blouses a bit and since I’m getting a tad tubby in the tummy it will cover the evidence.”

Evan patted the tummy in question. “How’s our baby boy?”

“He’s fine and dandy, and the morning sickness has stopped, thank heavens. Do you like the name Daniel? It just popped into my head today.”

“No,” Evan said firmly. “When I was in the fifth grade a kid named Daniel stole my Joe DiMaggio baseball card. I wonder if that’s why I went into the prosecution side of the law?”

“Oh, good grief,” Jennifer said, laughing. “Okay, I’ll remove Daniel from the list of baby boy names.”

“You could add Joe DiMaggio to that list. Joe DiMaggio Stone. Now that has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Forget it.”

“That’s what I figured.”

The very well-attended party in the private room at the exclusive restaurant was in full swing when Jennifer and Evan entered, their arrival evoking a loud round of applause and shouts of congratulations to them both.

Lyle’s confession had made the headlines in the newspapers and was the lead story in every newscast in the country.

Mayor Ned Jones made his way through the crowd to vigorously shake Evan’s hand, then give Jennifer a peck on the cheek.

“Fantastic jobs, both of you,” the mayor said, beaming. “You look good, I look good, we all look good. That counts at election time. I’m more than satisfied with the sentence Lyle got. Oh, in case any reporters ask, the tab for this party is coming out of my personal pocket. The taxpayers are not footing the bill for this celebration. I invited everyone who had anything to do with winning this case. We all deserve to celebrate.

“Jennifer, you are a vision of loveliness this evening, I must say. Your documentary is the talk of Chicago at the moment, since the hoopla about Gardner is fading. Any chance of your film being shown beyond this area?”

“My boss is negotiating for prime time with one of the national networks,” she said. “Apparently they’re very interested.”

“Excellent. You deserve recognition for a fine, fine job.” The mayor patted Evan on the arm. “And our man here deserves every bit of credit he can get for the outcome of the Gardner case.”

“I appreciate your compliments,” Evan said, “but I really didn’t do anything to win this case. All the credit goes to Detectives Waters and Wilson. I made that clear in my earlier statement to the press. If they hadn’t found the ring in that pawnshop I’m not convinced I could have won the case with the circumstantial evidence I had to work with.”

“Nonsense,” the mayor said. “You’d have won. We’re spreading out this victory so everyone gets a piece of the public relations pie.” He paused. “By the way, I hear that congratulations and best wishes are in order for you two as well as the other heroes and heroines involved in this case. Ah, yes, that is a sparkling diamond I see on your pretty finger, Jennifer. When is the wedding?”

“Soon,” she said, smiling. “The sooner the better, in fact.”

“Fantastic. Months ago when I ordered you two to go out to dinner and settle your differences you certainly took me at my dictatorial word.”

“You have no idea how true that is,” Jennifer said, unable to curtail a bubble of laughter. “Yes, sir, we have a verdict in this case…marriage.”

“I must mingle,” the mayor said. “Oh, did you hear the latest? Cecelia has resigned from the boards of every charity she was involved with that hadn’t already asked for her resignation. She’s moving to Australia.”

“ Australia?” Jennifer said incredulously. “She doesn’t intend to visit her son in prison?”

“Apparently not. She’s packing up and leaving the country, didn’t even invite her grandson Stephen to go along. I must mingle, mingle,” the mayor said, then hurried away.

“And Cecelia Gardner calls herself a mother,” Jennifer muttered.

“Don’t get started on that subject,” Evan said, chuckling. “Hey, there’s Belinda and her husband at that table over there. Shall we join them?”

“Yes, that’s perfect,” Jennifer said.

They wove their way through the throng of people, being stopped often to receive congratulations and handshakes. Each time Jennifer replied with a simple thank-you, while Evan said the credit for the courtroom victory was due to the detectives who refused to admit defeat over not having found the missing ring. They spoke briefly with Josh and Maggie, then Colin and Darien exchanged best wishes for the future.

When they finally reached the table, Belinda introduced her husband Henry to Jennifer, then Evan and Henry exchanged handshakes and genuine smiles that reflected their long-standing friendship. Henry was a tall, distinguished-appearing man in his early sixties.

“So,” Belinda said, once Jennifer and Evan were settled onto their chairs, “have you chosen a wedding dress yet, Jennifer?”

“No, I haven’t,” Jennifer said. “I’ve been a tad busy editing the film for the documentary. Besides, I don’t need a fancy gown. I told you it’s going to be a very small group of people at the ceremony, you and Henry included, of course.”

“Are you starting a list of possible names for the baby?” Belinda said.

“Belinda, for crying out loud,” Henry said, “Miss Manners would tar and feather you. You don’t ask the bride-to-be about her wedding dress one minute, then inquire about names for the expected baby in the next second.”

“Well, why not?” Belinda said. “Would it become proper if we discussed the weather between the two subjects? That’s silly.”

Jennifer laughed. “It’s all right, Henry. To answer your question, Belinda, the name Daniel was rejected by the daddy-to-be about an hour ago.”

“The name Joe DiMaggio didn’t cut it with the mama, either,” Evan said, smiling.

“I should hope not.” Belinda frowned at Evan. “That’s a ridiculous name.”

“I liked it,” Evan said, shrugging.

“I still say,” Henry said, “that you don’t ask about the wedding dress in the same breath as inquiring about the coming baby, for heaven’s sake.”

“This baby is no secret, Henry.” Jennifer laughed. “I’m surprised that the mayor held himself back from mentioning our little bundle of joy. Of course, he may have missed Evan’s statement that has been quoted in the newspapers ad nauseam in the twenty-four hours since he delivered his pearly words. Apparently you didn’t see it, Henry.”

“I guess I did miss that.” Henry looked at Evan. “What did you say?”

“I missed it, too,” Belinda said. “Evan, what have you gone and done?”

Evan frowned. “Well, hey, I could understand the press wanting details on the breaking news about the Gardner case, and how did I feel about the documentary, but they wouldn’t stop there. They’d heard a rumor about Jennifer and me being involved with each other and pushed, and pushed, and pushed, until…”

“Uh-oh,” Belinda said.

“Until,” Jennifer said, then dissolved in a fit of laughter and shook her head.

“Evan Stone,” Belinda said, narrowing her eyes, “spill it.”

“Well, hell, is it any of their business? No. So I decided to end the speculation, the questions and rumors, the whole nine yards. I said that yes, Jennifer Anderson and I were planning to be married and that baby boy Stone would be attending the wedding, much to our joyous delight.”

Henry put his head back and roared with laughter, which set Jennifer off again. The sound was infectious and Belinda and Evan’s laughter soon intertwined. People near the table glanced over, wondering enviously what joke they had missed. When the four finally settled down, Henry became quite serious.

“Humor me here, Evan,” he said, “then I promise to change the subject to something more pleasant. I’ve been out of the country for weeks on business and just flew in this evening.

“I scanned the newspapers Belinda had saved for me for details of the Gardner case, but didn’t have a chance to really digest it, then my beloved wife was bringing me up to date on family news during the drive from home to the party. Would you mind clearing up a question for me?”

“No, I don’t mind. What has your brilliant brain baffled, Henry?”

“I know about the prostitution ring that Franklin Gardner was running, fine fella that he was,” Henry said. “Then, I take it, Lyle discovered the truth about his younger brother and confronted him, resulting in the nasty fistfight between the two.”

Evan nodded.

“Lyle panicked,” Belinda said, “and tried to make it look like Franklin interrupted a burglary of his fancy-dancy apartment. Lyle stabbed him with an ice pick after Franklin was already dead from whopping his head on a table. Lyle might have gotten away with it if it hadn’t been for the impression left of Lyle’s ring in the bruises on Franklin ’s face. Then Lyle stashed the ring in a pawnshop in Michigan and on the story goes. You know all that part, Henry.”

“Yes, that much is clear,” Henry said. “Those two detectives did a heck of a fine job by finding that ring. Incredible.”

“Jennifer, tell the baby not to listen to this terrible tale about ice picks and dead bodies,” Belinda said. “The poor little darling will have nightmares in there.”

“Oh, okay,” Jennifer said, patting her stomach.

“What was your question, Henry?” Evan said, raising his eyebrows.

“It doesn’t work for me, that’s all. Here we have a man…Lyle…who is so distraught about his brother…Franklin…destroying lives of innocent young girls that he confronts his brother about the prostitution business.”

“Mmm,” Evan said.

“How can a man…and this is my question finally…who is that sensitive and sickened by the horror befalling those girls turn around and beat the pulp out of his brother, then stick him with an ice pick, for heaven’s sake? Panicked or not, the two sides of the man don’t match up. They really don’t.” Henry shook his head.

“Because you’ve assumed that Lyle was concerned for the young girls, Henry,” Jennifer said. “That’s not why he confronted Franklin. Lyle was worried that if what Franklin was doing was ever made public knowledge the Gardner name would be tarnished, leading to the Gardner power and social status being diminished. He couldn’t bear the thought of that.” She nodded decisively. “Lyle definitely learned his attitude at his mother’s knee.”

“Oh, I see,” Henry said. “Well, that makes sense then. Lyle was a scumball.”

“Right.” Jennifer turned to Evan. “You’ve been so patient with everyone who has stopped you and blithered on about the case, and it was really nice of you to answer Henry’s question, Evan, but this is a party and I think we should go visit that yummy-looking buffet over there.”

“Hear, hear,” Belinda said. “Jennifer is eating for two now, and I’m going to do the same because I’m such a dedicated friend.”

Jennifer and Belinda got to their feet and began to chat as Henry and Evan rose more slowly.

“You didn’t answer my question, Evan,” Henry said, frowning. “It was Belinda and Jennifer who…”

“I know,” Evan said, smiling, “and I doubt seriously that they realize it. Trust me, Henry, I understand this stuff. It’s a woman thing. And as far as my woman goes? I intend to enjoy every crazy, wonderful, loving minute with Jennifer for the rest of my life.”