“No, but maybe we can get justice for Cleo.”
“It’ll take a long time to come to court. Albia Rothman’s got big-tag lawyers. They’ll stall and evade and file more motions than O.J.’s lawyers. But it will happen. She will go down. It’s not enough, but it’s all we can do. Now, what are you planning on doing, Nick?”
“You know I resigned from the university.”
“Yes, I know,” he said, and waited, and thought of the huge box of condoms he had in his briefcase. He smiled even as she said, “I’ve been thinking I’d like to come east, maybe to Washington, D.C., see what’s available for an out-of-work college professor.”
He stopped, lightly touched his fingers to her cheek, smelled the fresh salty air, and said, “Yes, I think that’s a fine idea. Given your record for getting into trouble, it’s probably smart of you to get as close as possible to the biggest cop shop in the U.S.”
“I sure hope you’re wrong about that. I don’t even plan on getting a parking ticket. Dane, remember you wanted the next fifty years?”
“Yes, and then we’ll negotiate for more. I was thinking that someday Sean Savich will be a grown man and just maybe, if we have a girl, she and Sean could get together. What do you think?”
“Good grief. We’re not even married and you’ve already got our daughter married! Hmmm. To Sean Savich. We’ll have to speak to Savich and Sherlock about some sort of nuptial contract, what do you think?”
He laughed, took her hand, and felt a bolt of happiness fill him, deep and bright. He turned back once more to see the lily atop Michael’s grave lightly waving in the salty breeze.
