Ties That Bind (24 page)

Sloan asked, as if this was his house, “Anybody want coffee?”

They both did.

“I’ll get it.” Kate crossed to a pot she’d set up on a high table near the window. She poured two cups. “How do you take yours, Dray?”

“Two sugars. Lots of milk.”

Kate didn’t ask Reese his preference, and somehow that she knew he took it with just a bit of milk, made this all the harder for him; by the look exchanged between Dray and Sloan, they caught the familiarity, too.

In an effort to banish his discomfort, Reese began laying out piles of folders, as everybody stood around and watched. Then Kate came and helped. They stood on the same side of the table, staring down.

“Okay,” Kate said. “We need to pair up. Reese and I should work together and take the drug arrests, the domestic violence cases, and the probation violations.”

“Oh?” Sloan asked, “And why is that?”

She shot a glance at Reese and he nodded. “These are the most complicated ones. I figured you two would have trouble with the procedural information.”

“I agree,” Reese added. “Dray, you and Tyler can do the robbery cases. After we explain a few things, you shouldn’t have too much trouble understanding them.”

Sloan made a disgusted sound. “Dray—you’ve got a Masters Degree in kinesiology, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And I have a little thing called a doctor of medicine, so I guess we should be able to handle some robbery terms.”

Reese’s head snapped up. His gaze narrowed. “Fine. Go for it. I just thought if this was all medical terminology, I’d want you to give me the easier ones and help me with specifics.”

Kate came around the table with a stack of about a dozen folders. “Here.” She nodded to the corner table. “You can work over there. Reese and I will use the end of this long one where the majority of the files are.”

“What exactly are we looking for?” Dray asked.

Kate explained. “Chase Sanders said to isolate cases where the defendant got a verdict he didn’t like. Then to crosscheck each name with Yolanda’s notes on current status of that person. For example, if Joe Blow was put away on a felony charge and just got out of prison six months ago, he might be a suspect.”

Sloan said, “This sound like a shot in the dark.”

“I’d say a shot in pitch-black hell.” Kate smiled. “But we’re running out of options.” She nodded to the files. “They’re arranged by degree. New York State divides robbery into three main categories. Robbery in the first degree is a Class B violent felony. This is the most serious and carries the toughest penalties—twenty-five years max in prison. It’s what most people imagine when they think of robbery—done at gunpoint in a store or bank.”

Reese half listened as she told them about second-degree robbery, a Class C violent felony, and the next most serious, carrying a fifteen year max sentence. It frequently came up when multiple people worked on a robbery. The last, third degree, was a class D nonviolent felony and carried a seven year max. “I think there’s one in there, if I remember correctly, where the guy arrested on a class D robbery didn’t get the desk appearance ticket he wanted and he was angry at us.”

Reese recalled the case. “A failed desk appearance ticket doesn’t warrant somebody going after us.”

“No, but then again, whoever is doing this isn’t really being rational.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He said to Dray, “Look for that case, okay? We’ll isolate all potential perpetrators.”

“Sure. But what’s a desk appearance?”

Kate turned her back to them, so Reese explained. “It’s when a person commits a misdemeanor, and in lieu of going to jail or court right away, the guy is given a ticket for arraignment. For a court date. He’s still arrested, but doesn’t have to show up until such and such a time.”

Dray smiled at Sloan. “Ready?”

Reese was reminded that she’d spent some time with the guy. He wondered about it. But if he brought that up, they’d have to discuss the real reason for this un-cozy get-together—why exactly Sloan and Dray were with them today. He circled the table to sit next to Kate. Immediately some enticing scent wafted over to him. She used to put perfume on all the places he loved to kiss. When she turned her head, he saw that her neck bore faint red marks. That he’d put there with his teeth. When she was wrapped around him like a pretzel and he was grinding his mouth and groin into her. Shit, he thought shifting uncomfortably, it was going to be long day.

Kate looked up from the file at Reese’s intake of breath. He seemed upset. After checking out the kiddy area, she leaned in close to him. “You all right?”

He put on his glasses. “I’m fine. Where do you want to start?”

“Domestic violence is on top. As good a place as any.” She took a file and he did, too.

She read about a young woman requesting a temporary order of protection, called a TOP; Kate had brought the case to court. On their second appearance, the complainant wanted the order rescinded because the couple was living together again. The guy gloated. Kate remembered coming home angry about it and Reese wasn’t there. He’d been at Lindsay Farnum’s.

“Want to review this?” she asked him. “I don’t think it’s anything, but you’d better check it.”

He read the file. And she read him. The look on his face was like newsprint. When he raised his eyes, they were filled with recrimination. What the hell were we doing that year? his expression asked. But he said, “The guy was sent to jail twice after that for beating up on their kids. Yolanda’s note says he’s out now. It should go in the possible-suspects pile.”

She placed it there, and tried to focus on another file. She was fine until she came upon a case she had completely put out of her mind. Everybody—police, judges, prosecutors and defense attorneys—hated to make a mistake in domestic violence cases, fearing that this one would become The Case. The Case was a seemingly minor domestic incident in which the accused walked away, because someone didn’t arrest, prosecute or defend correctly, and then he or she returns home and murders the partner who complained.

They’d had one of those, of sorts. Reese had argued in court that Jack Smith, a rich, successful computer businessman, was falsely accused of hitting his wife. The evidence supported the defendant: kids’ testimony, maid’s testimony, parents’ testimony. Judy Smith had reported several incidents, but she later confessed that she’d lied about them. All indications were that this newest charge was fabricated. But the woman didn’t back down this time. Still, the jury found him innocent. Throughout the proceedings, Reese had confided in Kate that he thought Smith was guilty.

He’d been inordinately restless the night the verdict came in. Things were really bad between him and Kate. They were sleeping in separate rooms. He got up about two a.m. and went out. Kate had heard him leave, had thought he was going to his girlfriend and was furious. Instead, he’d driven to the Smiths’ home and found Jack’s car parked out front. Though they’d gotten together in the past during a legal separation, Reese had a bad feeling about this. He called the police and when they arrived, they had to burst inside when they heard screaming through the door. Judy Smith had been badly beaten, and Jack would have finished the job if the police hadn’t interfered. They arrested Jack—that time it had stuck.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She cocked her head.

“Which case has the blood draining from your face?”

Tyler’s head snapped up; he stood and came over to their table, placing a proprietary hand on her shoulder. “Kaitlyn, are you all right?”

“It’s the Smith case.” Briefly, she explained what happened to Tyler and Dray, who’d joined them.

“How did you know to go over there?” Dray asked.

“Just a hunch.” Reese’s voice was raw. “They come to lawyers. We learn to listen to them.”

Kate shook her head. “It could have been disaster, but Reese prevented the worst from happening.”

Reese’s face was dead sober. “I need to stretch my legs.” He stood and walked out of the room.

Puzzled, Dray looked after him. Kate said, “It was a tough one for him. He got Smith off and then the guy beat his wife so badly it took months for her to recover, and then she walked with a permanent limp. The press was not kind to us, despite the fact that Reese probably saved her life by going over there.”

Dray nodded and followed Reese out.

Tyler said, “You want a break?”

“No. I want to keep working.” And forget.

“Whatever.” He went back to his robbery files. Kate tried to concentrate on her own cases, but she couldn’t. Because she could still see Reese when he came home at four that morning…

She’d met him on the staircase. “I won’t stand for this, Reese.”

He’d totally disarmed her. “I didn’t go where you think.”

“Where did you go?”

He told her. She had immediately gone into comfort mode. “Oh, Reese, I’m so sorry.”

There were tears in his eyes, and he’d gone to their bedroom, not the spare room where he was sleeping. He sat down on the bed and buried his face in his hands.

She followed and stood before him. “I won’t let you take blame here. You did your job. What’s more, you saved that woman tonight.”

“All along, I felt he was lying through his teeth.”

“You can’t go on feelings in court. You have to go on facts.”

Still he’d been distraught.

“I won’t let you do this to yourself.” She dropped down to her knees and grasped his hands. “You did nothing wrong.”

He’d just stared at her. Then, he’d tugged her onto his lap. They hadn’t made love since she’d found out about his affair. But that night, she fell into his arms and let him do whatever he wanted.

Which was to strip her, explore her—roughly with his mouth and hands—and thrust into her like a madman. They both came with violent, shuddering force. Just the memory made her go damp.

It changed nothing between them though…

“Kaitlyn?”

She looked up at Tyler. “What?”

“You moaned. What’s going on? Are you finding suspects?”

“No. No. I just don’t…” She bit her lip. If she told him reading these files reminded her of those last years of her marriage to Reese, he’d flip again. He’d barely calmed down as it was; he’d agreed to come here today because, bottom line, he wanted to salvage their relationship. He’d made it clear, though, that he wasn’t happy about any of it. So she bluffed. “I’m discouraged. I just can’t believe we’re going to find any answers here.”

Still, she went back to the file. Oh, no. Jack Smith was out on bail. As of six months ago. She put the folder in the possible stack. And opened another case. Which only brought on another memory.

How on earth was she going to survive this process?

o0o

THEY WORKED UNTIL noon, in awkward, awful tension. Tyler’s neck hurt from it. When the clock in the foyer chimed twelve, he stood. “I’m hungry. And I need a break. I also have to call my office.”

Dray stood, too. “I’ve got to leave for a bit. I have to go over to the gym to bring in next week’s schedule.”

Both Kaitlyn and Reese looked up. Kaitlyn seemed annoyed, which pissed him off. “Okay. What did we decide for food?”

“Subs,” Tyler said.

“I can get them on the way back,” Dray offered, when Tyler whipped out his cell and went into the foyer to make his call. He was back in seconds. “I need to stop in at my office, too.”

Unspoken was the don’t leave Kate and Reese alone edict—the reason they were all here together. What the hell? Tyler was tired of elephants in the room. “So,” he said somewhat nastily. “Is it safe to leave you two alone?”

Bishop’s face reddened, and he gripped the file he held. “Fuck you, Sloan.”

“Hey, we all know what we’re doing here.”

“Tyler.” Kaitlyn’s voice was hoarse. Shit.

“Maybe it’s just better to get it out in the open.” This from Dray. “It’s been like a morgue in here all morning.”

Bishop leaned back in his chair and nailed Tyler with an insolent look. “Well, as long as we’re being honest, you and Dray seem to be pretty chummy with each other. Jillian Jenkins saw you at Starbucks together. What was going on there?”

Dray raised her chin. “Tyler and I have a lot in common. I don’t think I need to spell out what.” She faced Tyler. “Since Reese drove me over here, why don’t you and I go together? I’ll only be a minute at the gym, then we can go to your office.”

“Fine by me.” He gave Kate and Reese one last disgusted look and headed out the door.

They were in his car before Tyler spoke. “Did I make a mistake bringing it out in the open?” he asked, pulling his Blazer out to the street.

“No, you didn’t make any mistake.”

“Oh, that’s right. They did. That’s why we’re all together.” He hit the steering wheel. “Is this as bizarre as I think it is?”

“Yep.” Dray crossed her legs. “But since the alternative is giving up on my relationship with Reese, I decided to come. What do we have to lose, Tyler?”

“Our pride. We’re goddamned chaperones.”

“It’s probably not even going to work anyway.” Dray laid her head on the back of the seat, looking exhausted.

“What do you think about their big mistake—the infamous kiss?”

Her blue eyes shadowed with pain. “It makes me sick. But I knew it could happen.” She reached out and squeezed his arm. “So did you, Tyler.”

“Maybe it’s best they fucked up. Now they’ll be more careful.”

“I hope so.”

But Tyler didn’t believe what he said and he’d bet his medical license that Dray didn’t, either.

When they reached The Iron Butterfly, Dray turned to him and asked, “Want to come inside and see the place?”

He smiled. “Sure.”

The gym was huge. It had several rooms, each devoted to an activity. Upbeat music sounded from one area where Tyler could see an aerobics class in progress. The clank of weights came from another. As Dray went to her office, he checked out the dance room, where a yoga class was being held. Everything was state-of-the-art, slick and contemporary. He was absurdly proud of all Dray had accomplished here. It made him wonder why she was putting up with Bishop’s shit.

“I’m very impressed,” he told her on their way to the car.