Authors: Leslie Dana Kirby
The Perfect Game (22 page)
“Could be you or Lauren, too, because you
really
never know with these sweet young things anymore,” Kyle added.
“I'm not sure which of us deserves the credit, but at least we are getting very attentive service,” Lauren said.
Lauren's spumoni ice cream came out with a flaming candle in it. Lauren took a moment to reflect on what she wanted most out of life before she blew it out.
Candace and Kyle excused themselves immediately after the meal, complaining they had to return to the office for more trial prep before they could call it a night.
As they disappeared out of the restaurant together, Lauren asked, “Do you think they're more than friends?”
“They kind of make you wonder, don't they? I heard they sleep together sometimes, but Candace isn't interested in anything serious and that only makes Kyle pursue her more. I don't know if it's true,” Ryan answered.
The two of them continued to sit side by side even though the other half of the table was now empty. Lauren nursed the rest of her wine, not wanting the evening to end. To his credit, Ryan did not rush her.
Eventually, Lauren drained the last drops of her wine and they slid out of the booth.
(Thursday, September 28)
Lauren smelled it as soon as she walked outside. Ozone. It was raining at last. She stepped out from underneath the overhang of the restaurant and lifted her face to the gently falling raindrops, breathing in the sweet smell of clean air. Ryan smiled at her childlike enjoyment of the simple pleasure.
As soon as they were in the car, he held up a folded cocktail napkin. “Look what I got,” he said dangling the napkin in front of Lauren. She took the napkin from him and unfolded it. She saw The Old Spaghetti Factory logo in one corner and scrawled across it in bright purple ink was written, Brittany 623-760-6955. Cute little heart to dot the i.
“The waitress' phone number?” she laughed. “I didn't even see her give it to you.”
“She was very stealthy. She waited until you had your back turned.”
“Did she ask you to pass it along to Kyle for her?”
Ryan laughed. Lauren handed him back the napkin, which he promptly crumpled up and chucked over his shoulder into the backseat.
As they neared Lauren's apartment, her heart began to race.
Should she invite him up? Would he say yes if she did?
Geez, it was her twenty-seventh birthday, but she was feeling like an adolescent girl.
“What? No fan club to greet your arrival?” Ryan said as they pulled into the parking lot, noting there were no reporters waiting for her.
“They all think I'm at work. The true diehards are probably standing outside in the rain at Good Sam right now waiting for me to get off shift in an hour.”
“I thought they weren't allowed on the premises?”
“They're not, but that doesn't usually stop one or two from trying.”
Ryan parked the car, pulled the keys from the ignition, and opened his door. It was still sprinkling as they headed toward her apartment. About halfway there, thunder crashed and the sky unleashed a torrent of gigantic raindrops. They dashed up her steps, and huddled under Lauren's small front stoop while she struggled to unlock the door, bursting through at last into the dry interior, slamming the door behind them.
They were both soaking wet. A lock of Lauren's hair had plastered itself to her cheek. Ryan used his thumb to brush it back behind her ear.
In her platform sandals, she would just be able to reach her lips to his if she dared. She reached up on tiptoes, but settled for wiping a raindrop from his cheek, allowing her hand to linger.
She saw conflicting emotions flit across his eyes and braced herself for him to make an excuse to leave. She desperately wanted him to stay. She did not want to spend yet another night alone. Not on her birthday.
She stepped closer and brushed her lips to his. The kiss was tentative. Lauren could sense hesitation in Ryan's stiff posture. She pressed her body against his, pleased to feel his body now responding to hers.
“We should get you out of those wet clothes,” she said in a manner that was uncharacteristically forward for her. “You're in danger of catching a cold. I'm a doctor, you know.”
She pulled his wet T-shirt up over his head, exposing his flat stomach, solid chest, muscular shoulders and arms.
“Are you sure you wouldn't rather go to bed and get some sleep? You are a medical resident after all.”
Lauren felt stung before she remembered having told him that residents preferred sleep to sex. “Not this time. You know what they say about all work and no play.”
“Then it's time to take a taste of your own medicine,” he whispered in her ear. His hands pulled her wet shirt off easily as he kissed her more forcefully, exploring her mouth with his tongue.
As he kissed her, he unclasped her bra, releasing her modest but firm breasts. The bra, the best one she owned, dropped unceremoniously to the floor as he knelt now before her kissing her stomach and breasts. He worked at the button on her jeans, which he soon mastered, allowing them to slip off her ankles. He picked her up and carried her down the narrow hallway toward her bedroom.
The dainty lace panties she had picked out so carefully just a few hours earlier offered no resistance now.
Although she was no longer thinking clearly, Lauren realized Ryan was still wearing his jeans. For a moment, she worried the inappropriate jokes she and Candace had been making about Jake's manhood made Ryan feel insecure about removing his own pants in front of her.
Lauren sat up on the edge of the bed and began to unbutton his jeans with an urgency that sent his button flying across the room. “I must insist that you disrobe,” she said in a voice that was unintentionally breathy, “doctor's orders.” He obliged, the rest of his clothes joining hers on the floor. Lauren could now see that she needn't have worried about him feeling insecure.
Afterwards, Lauren slept in Ryan's arms more soundly than she had in well over a year.
(Friday, September 29)
When she woke up, he was gone.
She found her clothes, dry now, folded neatly on her dining room table, topped by a note written in tidy block letters.
SLEEPING BEAUTY,
I'LL PICK YOU UP AT THE USUAL TIME.
SLEEP TIGHT!
~R
Lauren had no idea what time Ryan snuck out. It was nearly six now. As she left the apartment for her morning run, she discovered he had considerately locked her knob lock on his way out.
True to his word, Ryan arrived promptly at seven to drive her to court. He was dressed in a suit and tie, driving the sedate government sedan once more. With reporters already camped outside, he greeted her professionally, and did not touch her as they walked side by side to his car.
“How did you sleep?” he asked courteously.
“Better than I have in ages. And you?”
“Like a baby.”
They sat in silence in the car for a moment before he continued, “Listen, Lauren, about last night⦔
Lauren's stomach clenched in anticipation of what he was about to say.
“I let myself get carried away. You looked so good, the meal was so fun, and the rain was so unexpected, but⦔
“But?” she asked, steeling herself for his response.
“It was a mistake. I'm sorry. I exercised poor judgment and I can't let it happen again.”
“So you do have a girlfriend?” she accused.
“A girlfriend? What? No. It's nothing like that.”
“Then what is it?”
“I'm one of the lead investigators on this case and you're a material witness. I could lose my job. I thought you knew that.”
“I guess I should've known that.”
“Why did you think I never pursued you before?”
“The same reason lots of guys don't pursue girls. Because they aren't interested.”
He laughed. “Hardly. Everybody has noticed my attraction to you. Except, apparently, you. Candace, Kyle, Wallace. I had to solemnly promise to stay professional when I volunteered for the driving gig and they keep reminding me I can't get involved with you so long as this case is unresolved. It could jeopardize the whole case.”
“It could?”
“Unfortunately, yes. The Defense could accuse me of hiding evidence to protect you or manufacturing evidence to incriminate Jake. If the jury has any reason to question the objectivity of our investigation, it could screw up everything. Candace would have my head on a platter. So we can't right now, okay?”
“Okay,” she answered.
Why do I keep falling for the one man that I can't have? Who was it that said, âMan wants most what he cannot have?'
she wondered as she remembered the quote, but not where it came from.
(Friday, September 29)
There was an accident on the I-10 freeway and traffic was backed up for miles. Ryan turned on his flashing red light and drove down the breakdown lane in order to make it to the courthouse on time. He and Lauren had barely taken their seats when court was called to order.
Friday morning, the Defense called three witnesses who had interacted with Jake at the airport on the evening of July twenty-third as he departed for Washington D.C. All of them testified he had been friendly and relaxed. He hadn't been acting like a man who had just killed his wife.
Candace fired the same series of questions at all of them.
“Do you believe most criminals make an effort to avoid getting caught?”
“Yes,” all of these so-called demeanor witnesses testified.
“And do you believe criminals accused of committing a terrible crime might try to act normal?”
They all agreed.
“And do you think some of those criminals who are guilty, but are putting on an act in order to appear innocent, some of them might be very convincing?
Again, all of the witnesses agreed.
Next, she asked, “Have you spent a lot of time with murderers?”
They all insisted they did not.
“Then you don't know with any certainty how someone who has killed his own wife, but is desperately trying to get away with it might act, do you?”
They all conceded they did not.
Those acknowledgements were enough to satisfy Candace.
Court recessed for lunch. Conversation was minimal until they reached the war room. Leaks in this case had been so numerous that Candace no longer trusted anybody.
“Have you seen this morning's newspaper?” Candace asked Ryan with pursed lips as soon as the door swung shut behind them.
“Not yet, why?”
She reached into her briefcase and pulled out that day's copy of the
Arizona Republic
, tossing it on the table for Ryan and Lauren to see. “Wakefield Trial Investigator and Witness Spotted in Bed Together” read the front-page headline. Lauren gasped audibly and Ryan paled.
Ryan opened the paper at the fold to reveal the rest of the article. A picture accompanied the story. Had a photographer managed to shoot a photo through Lauren's bedroom window?
Looking closer, Lauren could now see the photo had been taken at the restaurant after Candace and Kyle had left. Lauren and Ryan were sitting together at the table framed by the old bedposts, looking at each other and smiling. The photo was somewhat grainy, probably taken with another customer's cell phone camera and sold to the newspaper. The article itself was relatively benign, simply reporting the two of them had been observed dining together the previous evening.
“You can't seriously be mad about this?” Ryan said. “You were there with us.”
“I let you talk me into that,” Candace snapped. “How many times do I have to remind everybody that we're in a fishbowl? We can't afford for these things to get misconstrued by the press.”
“Candace, we're allowed to eat,” Kyle reminded her.
Candace softened visibly. Lauren didn't believe Candace didn't care about Kyle; she could see it on both their faces now.
“We're allowed to eat, but we're not supposed to be out having fun. Sorry guys, but none of us is to be photographed together outside of our activities for the trial. Is that clear? It could cost us this entire case.”
The others nodded. Lauren wondered how furious Candace would be if she knew what had really happened the previous night, hoping she would never find out.
The mood was dampened as they ate their lunch in stony silence. Lauren's phone vibrated in her purse. She didn't recognize the phone number, but it could be work-related. As a second-year resident, she was now supervising first-year interns who occasionally contacted her with a question, though they usually texted her.
“Hello?” she answered.
“So you're fucking Detective Pretty Boy now?” asked the chilling voice on the other end of the line.
“And loving it. And now I have a question for you, why did you kill my sister?”
The line went dead. As she hung up the phone, she realized that Candace, Ryan, and Kyle had all stopped eating and were staring at her with looks of shock.
As she repeated the phone conversation for their benefit, she realized with panic that she had just impulsively disclosed the truth about her tryst with Ryan.
But Candace didn't address that part of the conversation at all, simply saying to Ryan, “Let's see if we can trace that phone call,” before resuming eating her Caesar salad.
Ryan excused himself as the rest of them made their way back to the courtroom for the Friday afternoon session.
“How many more of these fucking airport witnesses do we have to put up with?” Candace asked Kyle.
“They have four more on the witness list.”
“Great, an afternoon spent with four Jake Wakefield groupies eager to do their share to help a murderer go free.”
(Friday afternoon, September 29)
As anticipated, the next witness was yet another airport demeanor witness, a young woman who had asked for Jake's autograph at the airport as he was rushing to his plane. “He was so gracious and kind,” she gushed.
Lauren suppressed an urge to roll her eyes. She was having trouble paying attention to the court proceedings, distracted by her worries about Ryan. Wouldn't he be angry that she had accidentally disclosed their sexual encounter to Candace and Kyle?
When she could stand it no longer, she discreetly tapped a silent text message to Ryan, wherever he was.
I am so sorry. I didn't mean to say that. It just slipped out.
Her phone vibrated in her hand a few moments later with his response. No apology necessary.
Immediately, another text came in from Ryan.
Wait! What do you mean that you “didn't mean to say those things”?
Lauren grinned. She felt guilty about texting in court, which she had never done before, but was relieved that Ryan was not upset with her.
Oh, I meant what I said :) I just didn't mean to say it in front of Candace. Hope I didn't get you into trouble.
Her phone soon buzzed with his reply.
No worries. Candace will be happy when I get the results of this phone search back to her.
Phew! Lauren could now pay attention to the trial again. Candace was cross-examining the witness. The attractive young woman fell easily into the trap set by Candace, admitting she didn't actually know how a wife-killer would act. And, as Lauren knew, Jake was a gifted actor.
Ryan returned to the courtroom, silently handing Kyle some documents before slipping back into his seat beside Lauren. She smiled at him and he raised one eyebrow at her.
As Candace was finishing up with the witness, Lauren's phone vibrated again.
That red wine sure was delicious last night
read the text message from Ryan. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, but he was looking straight ahead as if he were paying close attention to Candace's skillful cross-examination.
What? You didn't have any.
She texted back, confused.
Lauren's phone vibrated. She glanced discreetly down at the message in front of her.
I know, but it tasted delicious on your tongue.
Lauren couldn't suppress her smile while Ryan maintained a perfect poker face beside her.
After the demeanor witness was excused, Pratt leapt to his feet, “If it pleases the court, the Defense would like to call the defendant, Mr. Jacob Wakefield, Jr., to the stand at this time.”
