Let Me Call You Sweetheart

75 Sunday, November 5th

Jonathan and Grace Hoover were expecting Kerry and Robin round one o’clock. They both believed that a leisurely Sunday afternoon meal was a civilized and restful custom.

Unfortunately, the brightness of Saturday had not lasted. Sunday had dawned gray and chilly, but by noon the house was pleasantly filled with the succulent aroma of roasting lamb. The fire was blazing in their favorite room, the library, and they were contentedly settled there as they awaited their guests.

Grace was absorbed in the Times crossword puzzle, and Jonathan was deep in the paper’s “Arts and Leisure” section. He looked up when he heard Grace murmur in annoyance and saw that the pen had slipped from her fingers onto the carpet. He watched her laboriously begin the process of bending over to retrieve it.

“Grace,” he said reprovingly, as he sprang up to get it for her.

She sighed as she accepted the pen from him. “Honestly, Jonathan, what would I ever do without you?”

“You’ll never have to try, dear. And may I say that the sentiment is mutual.”

For a moment she held his hand to her face. “I know it is, dear. And believe me, it is one of the things that gives me the strength to carry on.”

On the way over to the Hoovers ’, Kerry and Robin talked about the previous evening. “It was much more fun staying at the Dorsos’ house for dinner than going to a restaurant,” Robin exulted. “Mom,! like them.”

“I do too,” Kerry admitted without reluctance.

“Mrs. Dorso told me that it isn’t that hard to be a good cook.”

“I agree. I’m afraid I let you down.”

“Oh, Mom.” Robin’s tone was reproachful. She folded her arms and stared straight ahead at the narrowing road that indicated they were approaching Riverdale. “You make good pasta,” she said defensively.

“I do, but that’s about it.”

Robin changed the subject. “Mom, Geoff’s mother thinks he likes you. So do I. We talked about it.”

“You what?”

“Mrs. Dorso said that Geoff never, ever brings a date home. She told me you’re the first since his prom days. She said that was because his little sisters used to play tricks on his dates and that now he’s gun shy.”

“Probably,” Kerry said offhandedly. She turned her mind from the realization that coming back from the prison, she had been so weary that she had closed her eyes for just a minute awakened later, resting against Geoff’s shoulder. And that it had felt so natural, so right.

The visit with Grace and Jonathan Hoover was, as expected, thoroughly agreeable. Kerry did know that at some point would get around to discussing the Reardon case, but it wouldn’t be before coffee was served. That was when Robin was free to leave the table to read or try one of the new computer games Jonathan always had waiting for her.

As they ate, Jonathan entertained them with talk about the legislative sessions and the budget the governor was trying to get through. “You see, Robin,” he explained, “politics is like a football game. The governor is the coach who sends in the plays, and the leaders of his party in the senate and the assembly are the quarterbacks.”

“That’s you, isn’t it?” Robin interrupted.

“In the senate, yes, I guess you could call me that,” Jonathan agreed. “The rest of our team protects whoever is carrying the ball.”

“And the others?”

“Those from the other team do their damnedest to break up the game.”

“Jonathan,” Grace said quietly.

“Sorry, my dear. But there have been more attempts at pork-barreling this week than I’ve seen in many years.”

“What’s that?” Robin asked.

“Pork-barreling is an ancient but not necessarily honorable custom wherein legislators add unnecessary expenses to the budget in order to win favor with the voters in their district. Some people carry it to a fine art.”

Kerry smiled. “Robin, I hope you realize how lucky you are to be learning the workings of government from someone like Uncle Jonathan.”

“All very selfish,” Jonathan assured them. “By the time Kerry is sworn in for the Supreme Court in Washington, we’ll be getting Robin elected to the legislature and have her on her way too.”

Here it comes, Kerry thought. “Rob, if you’re finished, you can see what’s up with the computer.”

“There’s something there you’ll like, Robin,” Jonathan told her.

“I guarantee it.”

The housekeeper was going around with the coffeepot. Kerry was sure she would need the second cup. From here on it’s all going downhill, she thought.

She did not wait for Jonathan to ask about the Reardon case. Instead she presented everything to him and Grace exactly as she knew it, and concluded by saying, “It’s clear Dr. Smith was lying. The question is how much was he lying? It’s also clear that Jimmy Weeks has some very important reason not to want that case reopened. Otherwise why would he or his people be involving Robin?”

“Kinellen actually threatened that something could happen to Robin?” Grace’s tone was icy with contempt.

“Warned is the better word, I think.” Kerry turned, appealing to Jonathan. “Look, you must understand that I don’t want to upset anything for Frank Green. He would make a good governor, and I know you were talking to me as well as explaining to Robin what goes on in the legislature. He would carry out Governor Marshall’s policies. And Jonathan, dammit, I want to be a judge. I know I can be a good one. I know I can be fair without being a pushover or a bleeding heart. But what kind of judge would I make if, as a prosecutor, I turned my back on something that more and more appears to be a flagrant miscarriage of justice?”

She realized her voice had gone up slightly. “Sorry,” she said.

“I’m getting carried away.”

“I suppose we do what we must,” Grace said quietly.

“My thought is that I’m not trying to ride a horse down Main Street and wave to the crowd. If something is wrong I’d like to find out what it is and then let Geoff Dorso carry the ball. I’m going to see Dr. Smith tomorrow afternoon. The key is to discredit his testimony. I frankly think he’s on the verge of a breakdown. Stalking someone is a crime. If I can push him enough to get him to break down and admit that he lied on the stand, that he didn’t give Suzanne that jewelry, that someone else may well have been involved, then we’ve got a new ball game. Geoff Dorso could take over and file a motion for a new trial.

It will take a few months for it to be properly filed and heard.

By then Frank could be governor.”

“But you, my dear, may not be a member of the judiciary.” Jonathan shook his head. “You’re very persuasive, Kerry, and I admire you even while I worry about what this may cost you. First and foremost, though, is Robin. The threat may be just that, a threat, but you must take it seriously.”

“I do take it seriously, Jonathan. Except when she was with Geoff Dorso’s family, she hasn’t been out of my sight all weekend. She won’t be left alone for a minute.”

“Kerry, anytime you feel your house isn’t safe, leave her here,” Grace urged. “Our security is excellent, and we’ll keep the outside gate closed. It’s alarmed, so we’ll know if anyone tries to come in. We’ll find a retired cop to drive her back and forth from school.”

Kerry put her hand over Grace’s fingers and gave them a hint of a squeeze. “I love you two,” she said simply. “Jonathan, please don’t be disappointed that I have to do this.”

“I’m proud of you, I guess,” Jonathan said. “I’ll do my best to keep your name in for the appointment but…”

“But don’t count on it. I know,” Kerry said slowly. “Goodness, choices can be pretty tough, can’t they?”

“I think we’d better change the subject,” Jonathan said briskly.

“But keep me posted, Kerry.”

“Of course.”

“On a happier note, Grace felt well enough to go out to dinner the other night,” he said.

“Oh, Grace, I’m so glad,” Kerry said sincerely.

“We met someone there who’s been on my mind ever since, purely because I can’t remember where I’ve met him before,” Grace said. “A Jason Arnott.”

Kerry had not thought it necessary to talk about Jason Arnott. For the moment she decided to say nothing except, “Why do you think you know him?”

“I don’t know,” Grace said. “But I’m sure that either I’ve met him before, or I’ve seen his picture in the paper.” She shrugged. “It will come to me eventually. It always does.”