CHAPTER TWELVE
“I’m sorry, sir, but I need more than the hunch of an investigating agent to unseal a juvenile record.”
Marcus wished he had a cigarette. He’d never been much of a smoker and Cheryl had insisted he quit for good when they met, but he could really use one right now.
It wasn’t healthy, but it was a lot healthier than slapping a judge, and he was imagining such an action with far too much fondness right now.
“Ma’am—”
“Your honor.”
In that case, it's special agent, not sir, he bit his teeth to avoid saying. “Your honor, Elijah Cox will kill again. We’re trying to stop him before he does.”
“And how on Earth will Paul Delaney’s sealed juvenile record help you find him?”
Justice the Honorable Pamela Lafayette had a thick accent that widened vowels that should be long and narrowed vowels that should be wide. Haa on Earth… Help eww faand hem?
He reminded himself that his skin was unusually thin at the moment and kept his tone respectful. “Cox is incredibly selective with his victims. Knowing the details of Paul Delaney’s criminal history could give us insight into the specific criteria he’s using to select them.”
Justice Lafayette pursed her lips. “Your superiors can provide a formal order from a federal court to release a copy of that record. Otherwise, you and I have no further business.”
She leaned back and picked up a sheaf of papers, shuffling them for no reason and looking away from Marcus. Marcus got to his feet, staring coldly at the judge. “I’ll do that, your honor. And I’ll make sure they’re aware of your unwillingness to cooperate.”
Lafayette chuckled. “I’ve been a justice of the peace longer than you’ve been alive, young man. You’re not going to intimidate me.”
Marcus left the court, shoulders bunched, eyes glowering at the floor.
He hated that he’d lost control of himself like that, even a little bit.
Antagonizing the judge wasn’t going to help him.
If anything, he’d just guaranteed that she would drag her feet even more.
She could appeal that court order and bounce it back and forth between her office and the circuit court for days if she wanted.
He sighed heavily. God damn it, Cox. Why couldn’t you just stay in prison where you belong?
That wasn’t the only reason he was on edge, though. He couldn’t blame the world for his thin skin.
He called Winters, stepping outside of the court and allowing the cool breeze to calm his thoughts. She answered on the first ring. “What do you have for me, Marcus?”
“I have a judge dragging her feet,” Marcus replied. “Our Tennessee vic has a sealed juvenile record, and the Honorable pain in the ass Pamela Lafayette doesn’t feel it necessary to unseal the record.”
“Why do you need to look at a sealed juvenile record?”
“Because we need to know why Cox is choosing his victims.”
“Presumably because they’ve broken the eighth commandment. Do you believe the record will reveal something else?”
A vein over Marcus’s left eye throbbed, but he was nowhere near enough to want to argue with his boss.
“We need to know why these victims specifically. Why not many other more serious thieves? We’ve got some ideas, but we need more evidence before we can figure out where those ideas are supposed to point us. ”
“I see. All right. I’ll request a court order. Thank you for working with Kate. I appreciate you extending her and me your trust.”
“Yeah. Don’t mention it.”
“She’s back on the right track, Marcus. Let’s give her the benefit of the doubt.”
That doesn’t mean she won’t derail again. “Will do, ma’am.”
She hung up, and Marcus sighed and looked up at the sky. It was lunchtime now, and the sky was as bright as it was gonna get, which was a washed-out blue that looked like a pair of jeans run through the laundry machine about a thousand times.
“So we’ve got apathetic local judges and officers on one hand and overprotective federal supervisors on the other.
We’ve got the mad priest slinking around looking for who else he may devour, and our two heroes caught in the middle digging for scraps and trying to figure out what they might mean. Just another day in the life.”
His phone buzzed, and when he saw Cheryl’s name on the caller ID, his head dropped to his chest. “Day just keeps getting worse.”
He answered and said, "Can this wait? I'm in the middle of a case."
“I just wanted to tell you that I’ve agreed to drop the alimony claim.
I’ve been thinking it over, and I’ve decided a clean break is the best thing for me.
My counsel is pitching a fit about it, but I’m going to overrule him.
I’ll switch my health insurance to my company’s plan.
We can sign the paperwork remotely and… that’ll be that. ”
Marcus blinked. “Oh. All right.”
“Is that okay?”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“You sound disappointed.”
Marcus couldn’t tell if Cheryl was disappointed by that or if she was gloating. “No, I’m… I think you’re right. I think a clean break is best for both of us.”
“Okay. Good. I’ll push it through on my end, and then we can pursue happiness apart from each other.”
“Yeah. Look, Cheryl…”
His voice trailed off. After several seconds, she prompted, “Yes?”
“I…” He sighed. “I didn’t mean for things to end this way.”
Now it was Cheryl’s turn to fall silent. Marcus bit his lip, waiting for her to answer, wondering why he still cared what her answer would be. He wasn’t in love with her anymore. Why was it so hard for him to let go?
Because it’s a failure. A permanent one. You tried to be married to a woman you loved, and you failed. Just like you did with Kate.
“It’s a little late to say that, isn’t it, Marcus?”
There was no anger in Cheryl’s voice, just a resigned exasperation. The love they’d once shared was in Cheryl’s past where it belonged. Marcus should take his cue from her and leave it in his past too.
But if he couldn’t make that marriage work, then how could he make a future with Kate work?
He loved her too, or at least he wanted to love her.
If he could just get past whatever damned hurdles kept him from making smart choices around the women he wanted, then he could love them and they could love him, and everything could be beautiful, the way it was supposed to be.
But he couldn’t seem to get it right. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to get his ducks lined up. Couldn’t make his marriage to Cheryl work, couldn’t make his relationship to Kate work, couldn’t find Cox and keep him from killing people with impunity. All just wasted effort.
That was going to be etched on his tombstone. Marcus Reid: tried hard, still failed.
“Goodbye, Marcus. I wish you happiness.”
Marcus heaved a sigh. “Yeah. You too.”
Cheryl hung up. Marcus put his phone in his pocket and stood where he was, coping with the final punctuation of that particular failure.
He looked back up at the sky. The blue had brightened to an almost cartoonish shade. The breeze tickled his face with an almost liquid caress, flowing through his stubble and sending tingles down his spine and through his extremities.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and sent Kate another text: Waiting for court order for juvenile record.
He sent that text and typed another one. Cheryl backed off of the alimony request. She’s going to finalize the divorce.
He stared at that text for a long moment. Why would he tell Kate this? What was he hoping from her in return? Support? Congratulations? A request for a date now that Cheryl was completely out of their way?
I just want us to have a chance at love. Real love. No hiding, no avoiding, no complication. I want to know that I’m not crazy and that she and I really do have something real.
He erased the text without sending it and sat on the edge of a planter in the courtyard of the civic center adjacent to the courthouse. Kate sent him a thumbs-up and a three-word message on my way.
He waited, looking up at the pastel blue sky while lawyers and petitioners filed in and out of the courthouse and minor functionaries flitted from the civic center to the various other buildings in Knoxville's administrative complex.
The breeze continued to blow, but the cold Marcus felt had nothing to do with the wind.