Law of Attraction (26 page)

“I’m sure Burma’s really upset about that.”

“Yeah.” Jack laughed. “Now the activists are being replaced by yuppies like me, who just want a neighborhood near the Metro that’s safe enough to raise kids in. Some of my neighbors were suspicious when they learned I’m a prosecutor. That makes me The Man. But I joined the board of the organic food co-op. I compost. And Olivia’s just too cute for anyone to resist. Now my neighbors accept me as another local character, That Prosecutor Fella.”

“It’s a cute neighborhood. I pictured you living in the city.”

Why? Jack thought, suddenly wary. Because I’m black?

“Because you’re the Homicide chief,” she said quickly. “Not some law firm partner. I expected something less gingerbready, more gritty.”

Fair enough, Jack thought.

“I had enough of ‘gritty,’” he admitted quietly. “I wanted to raise Olivia in a neighborhood where she could play on the streets. I grew up in Anacostia. Every couple years, a kid I knew would get killed in some urban gun battle or something. I wanted something better for my daughter. Someplace like where you must have grown up, Miss Midwest Corn Princess,” he joked.

“I grew up in Flint,” Anna retorted. “We’ve been in a recession for twenty-five years. My dad worked on the line at the General Motors plant. When he got laid off, we lost our house and moved into a trailer park. So don’t bring out that tiara just yet.”

“I’m sorry. I just assumed you were a trust fund kid, coming from Harvard Law School and being so—” He stopped abruptly.

“So what?”

So beautiful, he thought.

“So smart,” he said.

Jack directed the cabdriver to a yellow Victorian house at the end of a quiet street. The home and all the trees around it were strung with multicolored Christmas lights, and a tall plastic snowman lit up the yard.

“Excited about Christmas, Jack?” she teased. “We haven’t even had Thanksgiving yet.”

“If it was up to Olivia, we’d start celebrating Christmas in June,” Jack said, handing the cabbie a twenty.

As Jack pushed open the front door of the house, Olivia came running through the foyer. She wore pink pajamas and pigtails and dragged a teddy bear behind her. “Daddy! Daddy!” She hurled herself into his arms, and he scooped her up, flinging her into the air. She shrieked with delight, then threw her arms around his neck and covered his face with kisses. “Did you get the bad guy?”

“We sure did, pumpkin.”

A plump, smiling Latina followed Olivia into the foyer. “She was excited to get to stay up late,” the nanny told Jack. She stopped when she saw Anna. Her eyes narrowed. “A lady friend! You said you had to work. An emergency, you said.”

“Luisa, thank you so much,” Jack said, walking her to the door. “I
was
working. This is Anna—from work. I’ll put the overtime in your next paycheck, okay?”

“Sure, Mr. Jack, no problem. Good night,
cosita.
” The nanny kissed
Olivia as Jack opened the door. “Good night, Miss Anna From Work. Don’t work him too much later tonight.”

“Good night,” Anna called, choking back a laugh as Jack shut the door behind the nanny.

With her arms still wrapped around her father’s neck, Olivia turned to Anna. The little girl had gorgeous mocha skin and Jack’s green eyes. “Hi,” she said brightly. “I’m Olivia.” The five-year-old stuck out her hand and shook Anna’s.

“Hello.” Anna smiled at the precocious girl. “I’m Anna.”

“This is the lady I’ve been working with,” Jack told his daughter. “Anna has nowhere to stay tonight. Do you think she could stay here?”

“Yeah. You can use my bear,” Olivia said, handing Anna the stuffed teddy. “You’re pretty, just like Daddy said.”

“Well, thank you.” Anna blushed and looked everywhere but at Jack. The living room, painted a cheerful buttery yellow, was brimming with toys. A big Christmas tree stood in a corner. Beyond the living room, Anna could glimpse the kitchen, decorated with fingerpaint drawings and noodle art.

“Okay, you,” Jack said, with embarrassed laughter. He set her on the floor. “Bedtime. Go upstairs and choose the book you want to read before bed.”

“Mm . . . how about three?” she asked, with the sweet, bossy authority of a five-year-old girl who knows she has her father wrapped around her finger.

“Two,” he conceded. It was always a negotiation. Olivia ran happily up the stairs, knowing she’d won. Anna watched the scene wistfully. Jack was the kind of father she’d always wanted.

Half an hour later—after Olivia had her books read, her bedtime prayer recited, her glass of water brought, her teddy bear reclaimed and tucked in, and several kisses—Olivia was finally in bed.

“That’s quite a bedtime ritual you’ve got there,” Anna whispered as Jack led her down the hallway.

“I know, but I can’t sleep if I forget to tuck in the teddy bear,” Jack whispered back. He turned on the light in the guest room.

Anna set her backpack on a daybed covered with a colorful quilt. A toy chest, rocking horse, and child-sized table and chairs took up one wall. This was a playroom when guests weren’t staying over.

“Jack, I need to tell you what D’marco said when he came to my house. I think we have to look into something.”

“We’ll talk about that tomorrow. You should get some rest now.”

He showed her the little bathroom attached to the bedroom, and took a towel out for her. She couldn’t wait to shower off the dirt and sweat from tonight. She was glad she’d be doing it here in this friendly house, with the tough-as-nails Homicide chief down the hall, instead of in her lonely basement apartment. She knew this was a place where she would be completely safe.

Anna followed Jack back to the doorway of the bedroom. He turned, and they stood facing each other.

“Jack, thank you. For everything,” she whispered, keeping her voice low so she wouldn’t wake Olivia. “I didn’t realize how much I needed to be around people tonight. Your daughter is beautiful and so is your house. Thanks for letting me come over.”

“Of course. You had a tough night. Maybe you’re fearless, but anyone else would be pretty shaken up. I’m just glad there was something I could do to help.”

He was standing with his hands clasped behind his back, like a soldier at attention. Something about his formality made Anna realize they were a man and a woman standing alone together in a bedroom.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” he asked quietly.

Anna almost laughed. He hadn’t meant a double entendre, and she felt sophomoric to have assigned a sexual meaning to his question. But it got her thinking about how his chest had felt under her cheek earlier that night, the rhythmic thump of his heart beating under her ear. Her eyes skimmed over his face, resting on his mouth. He had beautiful lips, full and sensual. Strange that she’d never noticed that before. If she stepped forward now, she wondered, would he fold her into his arms again? Or more?

She cut off the thought, bewildered by it. It was ridiculous—absurd. He was her boss. Her stern, no-nonsense, straight-arrow boss. She must be seriously overwrought—she was turning a simple, nice gesture into something it wasn’t. She shook her head no.

“Okay.” He stood in the doorway for a second longer. Anna wished she could know what was going through his head. After a moment, he smiled at her politely. “Good night, Anna.”

“Good night,” she whispered to his back.

•  •  •

Anna awoke to the feel of a hand patting her foot. She opened her eyes.
Morning sunlight glinted through the cracks of the curtains. Olivia stood next to the bed, one hand on Anna’s foot and the other holding an African-American Barbie doll. She was still in her pink pj’s.

“Hi,” the little girl said with a shy, flirty smile. “Will you pour me a bowl of cereal?”

“Sure.”

Anna sat up, getting her bearings. The sound of running water came from Jack’s bathroom. He must be taking a shower. Anna stood up. Olivia grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hallway. Anna laughed and stumbled along, wiping the sleep from her eyes. Olivia led her to the kitchen and pointed up to the cabinet that held the Cheerios. Anna poured some into a bowl with milk, and they sat down at the kitchen table. Olivia munched away happily. Anna looked around the kitchen and living room. There were few surfaces that weren’t covered with toys.

“That’s nice.” Anna pointed to the Barbie Dream House set up next to the couch.

“Thanks! Look at these!” Olivia popped out of her chair and ran to the living room, where she scooped up a few toys in her path: another Barbie, an electric toy drum, and a sticker book. She dumped the toys proudly on the kitchen table before taking her seat and another slurpy mouthful of cereal.

“Wow. That’s good stuff.” Anna pressed a button on the drum, which made it play an island rhythm. Anna stood a Barbie on top of the drum, bouncing the doll up and down to the beat. “It’s a dance party,” Anna said.

“Dance party!” Olivia cried. She grabbed the other Barbie and bounced it on top of the drum next to Anna’s doll. Olivia sang along as the dolls danced.

When the music stopped, the little girl called, “More!” and pressed the button again. This time the drum played a catchy salsa tune. Olivia stood up and grabbed Anna’s hand. “Come on, it’s a dance party!” Anna held Olivia’s hand and twirled the giggling girl around the kitchen.

When Anna looked up, she saw Jack leaning against the kitchen doorway. He wore his suit pants, a white undershirt, and a look of supreme amusement. She was suddenly cognizant of the fact that she was dancing around her boss’s kitchen in a tank top, shorts, and bare feet. She froze, but Olivia ran over and grabbed her father’s hand. “Come
on, Daddy! It’s a dance party! Dance!”

Jack stepped into the kitchen and easily obeyed, moving his feet expertly to the salsa beat, spinning his daughter around and around. Anna laughed and clapped her hands with delight. Jack smiled at her as Olivia passed under his arm. It was the biggest smile she’d ever seen on his face.

An hour later, Jack and Anna emerged from the house, lawyers again. He wore a dark suit and tie; she had changed into the gray skirt suit she’d brought. Her clothes from last night were stuffed in her backpack, slung over one shoulder. Olivia stood next to Luisa on the porch and waved at them enthusiastically. “Bye, Daddy! Love you! Bye, Anna! I hope you beat the bad guys!”

“Me too!” Anna turned back to wave at the adorable girl. Jack smiled as they walked down the sidewalk toward the Takoma Metro station. He looked at Anna’s suit.

“You don’t have to come to the office today. You can take the day off.”

“I’ve never taken a sick day. I’m not going to give D’marco the satisfaction of starting now.”

Jack nodded. He would have been the same way.

“So, when are you auditioning for
Dancing with the Stars
?” she teased.

“Don’t get me started, Britney.”

“Britney? Come on. I was going for Madonna, circa 1992.”

“Were you even born then?”

“I was eight,” she said, feigning indignation.

“I graduated from high school that year.” He shook his head in disbelief.

“Oh, did they have high schools back then?”

“Mercy.” He put up his hands in laughing surrender.

“Now that I’ve got you on the ropes”—her voice turned serious—“let’s talk shop.”

He nodded.

“D’marco didn’t come to my apartment last night to hurt me,” she explained. “He wanted to tell me something.” She described what D’marco said about the night of Laprea’s murder. “He admitted that he hit her, but he swore the last he saw of her, she was alive and running off to see a cop.”

Jack shrugged. “So that’s going to be his defense? I’ve seen
defendants blame the police, but that’s ridiculous.”

“I hear you. But he walked away from an ambulance after he’d been shot just to tell me that. That’s probably why he was calling and writing letters.”

“Anna, every man in the D.C. Jail swears he’s innocent. Denial is a natural human instinct. You could have him committing the crime on videotape and he’d tell you it was his evil twin.”

“Okay—but—what if Laprea
was
seeing a cop? What if it was Brad Green?”

“Green?” Jack looked at her incredulously. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head on something last night?”

“I know, I know. But hear me out. Laprea
was
seeing somebody else, right? She was pregnant with another man’s child when she died. So, who’s the other man? Rose didn’t know of anyone else that Laprea was dating—but she did say that Green stopped by the house a lot. And when we visited . . . Green knew where they kept everything in the kitchen, he was all friendly with the kids. Rose said Green was always ‘looking after’ the family. What if it was more than that?”

“I don’t think Green was Laprea’s type,” Jack said gingerly.

“Stranger things have happened. . . .”

“True. But if Laprea was dating Green, why did she keep it a secret from her mother?”

“Maybe Laprea didn’t want to deal with the fallout unless the relationship really became serious. Maybe it would be controversial to date a cop. Maybe Rose would disapprove of the interracial aspect of it.”

Anna glanced at Jack, gauging his reaction to her last comment. She’d found herself thinking about interracial relationships a fair amount lately, wondering if it was still an issue for anyone who lived in a modern, cosmopolitan city. Wondering, more specifically, if it was an issue for someone like Jack Bailey, or his friends and family. But Jack’s face remained neutral and he didn’t respond to her last point.

“Come on, Anna. First Davis wants us to believe he was home all that night with his grandmother, playing video games. Now he wants to blame the police for killing this woman that an eyewitness saw him beating. Gimme a break. No jury’s gonna buy that.”

“But the way D’marco said it—I think he really believed it.”

“No offense, but you were hardly in a position to judge his credibility. That was a traumatic situation.”

Anna knew Jack was right. But something about Green had nagged
at her from the beginning—and made D’marco’s story ring true. She couldn’t just let it go.