Trial Junkies

— 31 -

Other than the post-lunch subterfuge at the security gate, the bulk of the day was uneventful.

Before Waverly's cross-examination of Detective Meyer could even begin that morning, there was a flurry of defense and prosecution motions, no doubt cooked up in the middle of the night by the two sleepless legal teams.

The jury was sent away as the parties had argued over things that Hutch didn't completely comprehend. Once the legalese started flying, he had turned inward, and judging by the looks on the faces of Andy and Monica, they'd done the same. Monica got up twice to use the ladies room and took her time returning.

Tom and Gus were the only ones who seemed to be following along, and Hutch had made a mental note not to ask them about it later. Legal maneuvers didn't do much for him. He was far more interested in the drama of confrontation, attorney against witness, and he wished they'd put that smarmy fuck Meyer back on the stand so Waverly could have a go at him.

He was reminded, not for the first time, that there was a vast difference between a real trial and what you see on TV.

Hutch spent much of this time studying the creep, who sat not twenty feet away, watching the trial with the rapt attention of a child mesmerized by his favorite cartoon show. As the lunch hour had grown closer, he realized he had butterflies in his stomach in anticipation of what he and Gus had planned.

He was relieved when it all went smoothly.

The afternoon session was more of the same-a fresh new flurry of legal motions, Waverly and Abernathy getting quite heated at times. And Hutch once again found himself sneaking glances at the creep, who now had a name:

Frederick Langer.

It sounded pretty innocuous, but at this very moment, Matt was chasing down as much information as he could find on Langer, and he and Hutch and the others had made plans to meet at the Lincoln Park apartment to discuss what Matt had discovered.

Hutch had no idea if their little attempt at playing detective would amount to much of anything, but his gut led him to believe that there was definitely something off about this guy, far beyond what he'd seen and heard on the L last night.

His suspicion was solidified when he realized that Langer's rapt attention had shifted from the proceedings-

— to Ronnie herself.

His gaze was fixed on her as she sat at the defense table, watching the attorneys argue vigorously before the judge.

Hutch recognized that look immediately. It was the same expression he'd seen on the faces of teenage girls as he walked the red carpet at a premiere, or the Emmys. A kind of impassioned worship that, while completely unfounded, was as powerful as a drug and potentially as dangerous-to the object of their affection, that is. Hutch had often wondered what would have happened to him if those screaming girls had ever been let loose.

And what, he wondered, was behind Langer's fascination with Ronnie?

Was he enthralled by the thought that this woman might very well be convicted of a crime he had committed? Or was he imagining her laying face-up in an alleyway, her broken body peppered with knife wounds?

Hutch had spoken only briefly with Ronnie that morning. Although it came with the territory, he was still a little angry and embarrassed by the way the press had played up their kiss.

But Ronnie wasn't fazed by it.

"They've already printed enough lies about me," she'd told him. "What's one more? I'm just happy to be free."

"I'm not sure free is the right word. They're probably camped out in your front yard by now."

"And the alley," she'd said with a nod. "Don't forget the alley. I got up to take a pee in the middle of the night and saw some bastard digging through my trash. When I shouted at him, he pointed a camera at my window and started flashing away."

"Jesus," Hutch murmured.

"And when Andy came to pick me up, I was worried we might not make it to the car. We just put our heads down and kept walking."

"That's the only way to do it. Or never come out of your house."

"If only I had that choice."

They had let that percolate a moment, then Hutch said, "I've been thinking, maybe you need to come out to Lincoln Park for a while. You and Christopher and your mom."

She looked surprised. "Seriously?"

"There's plenty of room for all three of you and I've got a doorman who'll be more than happy to keep the riff-raff out, or call the cops if he has to. There's even underground parking, so we can get you to court without having to run the gauntlet."

She had smiled then. "Boy, when you commit, you commit."

"Let's just say I feel bad for doubting you all these months."

"You've already done enough, Hutch."

He shrugged. "So let me do a little more."

He hadn't told her about his suspicions regarding Frederick Langer, or what he and Gus were planning for the lunch hour. He doubted she even knew who Langer was. Most of the time she had her back to the gallery, and if she did turn around, Langer was merely one in a sea of faces.

They arranged for Andy to take her straight to Hutch's apartment after court, and when the reporters got a clue and realized she wasn't coming home, her mother would wait for them to disperse, then pack a few necessities, grab her grandson and follow. Hopefully, their nosy neighbor wouldn't be paying much attention.

Hutch knew that sooner or later the media would find out where Ronnie was staying-which would fuel even more rumors about them-but with a fifteenth floor apartment, at least nobody would be pointing cameras toward the bathroom window.

The afternoon was cut short when the judge, looking like he'd much rather be vacationing in Bermuda, decided to take the arguments into chambers. The current point of contention was a defense motion asking the court to allow Waverly to question Detective Meyer about a number of his previous cases-a motion Abernathy strenuously objected to-and Waverly had come armed with enough supporting case law to keep them all busy for quite some time.

For all his cries of boredom, Hutch was disappointed when they shut down early. His daily routine had been interrupted and he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. He briefly considered following Langer, who had left the moment the gavel fell, but decided that this probably wasn't a wise idea until they knew exactly who they were dealing with.

Waverly had invited Ronnie into chambers and wanted to meet with her after court, so Ronnie told the others there was no point in sticking around.

Monica suggested they go for a drink, but Hutch declined, telling them he'd meet them at his apartment later that evening. After his visit with Nadine last night, he'd nearly had a lapse in judgment, and hanging out in a bar was probably not a wise thing to do.

He said to Andy, "You'll be back for Ronnie, right? Help her pack her things and bring her to my place?"

Andy smirked. "No, I thought I'd leave her here for the night."

"Anybody ever tell you you're a world class smart ass?"

"It's come up once or twice."

When they were gone, Hutch asked Gus what he did to fill the void at times like this.

"What else?" The old guy said with a shrug. "Find another trial."