“So he put me in the back of his car and drove me to his house, where I stayed for the next two weeks. He hired someone, at his expense, to look after me twenty-four hours a day to make sure I didn’t hurt myself or touch any booze. Then he got me an appointment with a shrink he knew.”
Chandler retrieved his suitcase and they headed off toward the short-term lot.
“So,” Denise said, “that’s how you started getting therapy.”
“He saved my life, Denise. I was heading in a bad direction.” He leaned closer to her ear and said, “I would’ve done it with a gun. God knows I’d thought about it enough in those days right before he found me.” Chandler shook his head. “That’s why when this guy calls and tells me he’s in trouble, I’m gonna do whatever I can to help him.”
FATIGUED FROM BOREDOM AND stiff from incessant sitting, Chandler started the shower, hoping it would allow him to unwind before going to bed. While he waited for the water to reach a tepid temperature, he walked over to Denise and hugged her tightly, drawing her body close and enveloping it. He gave her a long kiss. She smiled and ran her fingers through his thick light brown hair.
She marveled at how some couples could be away from each other for days at a time when one of them had a job that required frequent trips out of town. Her mind flashed on her life before Chandler, when she worked as a software engineer at a large mainframe company, all-job-and-no-play, the ultimate career woman. No time for men or family. It seemed like a lifetime ago, she told him.
“And when you graduate from law school, you’ll enter the rat race again.”
“We’ll see. It all depends on what I do with the degree. That’s why I want to get pregnant now, try to time it so I’m all done by the time I pass the bar.”
Chandler gave her another kiss, told her to hold the thought, and walked into the roomy stall that was decked out with glass-block walls, a tile seat, and massaging showerhead. Savoring the wet heat against his taut back muscles for a couple of minutes, he then turned around and stood facing the nozzle as the water rained down on his scalp. He leaned against the wall and flexed his tired neck. The warmth was soothing, comforting.
As he adjusted the spray to a beating pulse, he felt a gentle brush against his buttocks, five fingers cupped around each side...squeezing lightly at first, then more aggressively. Relaxing into Denise’s hold, he felt her breasts press into his back. He turned around and pulled her close.
She placed her arms around his neck, the hot water drumming against his lower back and buttocks. He kissed her, his tongue moving in and out of her warm mouth, exploring and groping and rolling around her tongue, teasing it.
Denise gently pulled on Chandler’s neck and moved him around so he was sitting on the tile seat in the corner of the stall. They moved rhythmically, matching the pulsing beat of the water, until both felt the building grasp and sudden release.
As they toweled off, she fell silent.
“What’s on your mind?” Chandler asked.
She shook her head, bringing her thoughts back to the present. “Wondering what we just created.” Denise wrapped her hair in a towel, turban style, and slipped on her white silk robe. She lay down on the bed, on top of the down comforter, and put her legs up and over a pillow. “I bet it’s a girl.”
“How can you be so sure it even worked?”
“I can tell.”
Chandler pursed his lips and nodded. “Okay ... assuming you have some special power to know this, a girl would be fine with me,” he said. “But I’d be happy with another boy too.”
Denise joked that if it were up to him, he would have nine boys, enough to field an entire baseball team.
Chandler laughed, realizing that she was right. “But even if we had a girl,” he said while towel-drying his hair, “I’d teach her how to play ball, too.”
She adjusted the pillow beneath her neck. “Just as long as you let me dress her up, do her hair, take her shopping for clothes...”
“Sounds like you’re talking about playing with your favorite doll.”
“Absolutely.” Denise reminded him that he was lucky to have made it home at the right time, or they might well have had to wait another month — a situation that had already caused them enough anxiety.
“It’s all water under the bridge now.”
“Or sperm in the canal,” she said with a chuckle.
CHAPTER 31
“THE PROSECUTION REFILED THE complaint.”
Madison had just returned from dropping Chandler at the airport when he received a call from Hellman.
“Re-filed the complaint — what the hell does that mean?”
“It means that the charges against you have been modified. For the worse.”
“Why’d they modify them?”
“I don’t know for sure,” Hellman said. “But if I had to guess, the prosecutor, Denton, is trying to take advantage of a high-profile case to move up the ladder. I’ve known him for years, and I wouldn’t rule it out.”
Madison, standing at the desk in his study, closed his eyes and did not reply.
“They’re bringing more serious charges,” Hellman said. “First set outlined during the arraignment were those filed by the investigating detectives. The prosecutor has revised them upward.”
“What, four to twelve years isn’t enough? What are they asking for now, my firstborn?”
“Phil — ”
“No, seriously. How many years of my life do they
