Chapter 1 #4
Peter was watching me closely. “I’m just trying to figure out what you two mean to each other.”
“We’re the best of friends. The very best. But that’s all.”
He eyed me cautiously. “Are you sure?”
“Very.”
For a minute longer, he studied me. Though his eyes never left my face, they seemed to take in far more than mere features.
They delved into me, touching things that were deep and private and had to do with Adam and me, more so than with Cooper.
They asked questions, probed territory that had been untouched for years.
I didn’t understand it. I’d met many people, made many friends in the past six years, yet none had ever gotten to me this way. It frightened me that Peter Hathaway should. He was a total stranger. But powerful, so powerful. Beneath his gaze, I felt bared.
Pulling the refrigerator door open, I ducked inside. When I emerged, my arms were filled with a jar of mayonnaise, a head of lettuce and a loaf of bread. It wasn’t that I believed they could shield me from his gaze, but I had to try something.
As it happened, by the time I straightened, Peter was looking out the window. I followed his gaze, thinking maybe Cooper was coming. He’d promised me that he would, though I’d had to work hard for that promise.
I could have used his help right about then. But there was no sign of him on the walk.
“Where does he live?” Peter asked.
I set to work mixing the tuna. “In town. It’s five minutes by car, fifteen by foot.”
“Does he live alone?”
“No. Benjie lives with him.”
“Any other relatives?”
“There used to be,” I told him, keeping my eyes on my work.
“Cooper’s lived here all his life. His father died when he was seven or eight.
He had a sister, but she left when their mother remarried.
” I took a breath. “Benjie is actually Cooper’s half brother, the son of his mother and her second husband. ”
“Where are they?”
“His mother and stepfather? Dead.”
“Both of them?”
“Yes. There was a fire one night. Neither of them made it out of the house.”
“When was this?”
“About a year before Adam and I moved here.”
“Where was Cooper at the time?”
My fork snagged in the tuna. Slowly I looked up. “Cooper was working on a boat two days north of here. It took the Coast Guard that long to reach him. No, he didn’t have anything to do with that fire. Arthur managed it all by himself.”
Rather than trying to catch Cooper in something, Peter seemed totally engrossed in the tale. “Arthur?”
“Cooper’s stepfather. He was an alcoholic. When he wasn’t drinking, he was abusing Cooper’s mother. He’d done both on the night of the fire. According to the medical examiner, Mayjean was unconscious when the fire started.”
“How did it start?”
“He was smoking. Fell asleep. He couldn’t get himself out any more than he could get her out.”
“And Benjie?”
“Thank God, Cooper had sent him to stay with a friend. He often did that when he had to be away for more than a day or two. Arthur had been known to take his ugliness out on Benjie, too.”
Peter frowned. “How could Cooper stand by and let that happen?”
I was taken aback by his criticism, which was rash and unfounded.
“What could he do?” I asked angrily. “He argued with his mother until he was blue in the face, trying to get her to bring charges against Arthur, but she wouldn’t.
And she wouldn’t leave him. So there wasn’t much of a case.
The best Cooper could do was to try to keep Benjie out of the line of fire.
” I went back to mixing the tuna with greater force.
“Cooper’s life hasn’t been easy. I’ve always admired his fortitude in the face of that. ”
Peter was quiet. I dared a glance at him. He looked pensive as he stared out the window, but I didn’t have time to wonder why before he grew alert and met my gaze. “I take it Cooper took over the fishing business when Adam died.”
Satisfied that I’d successfully defended Cooper on the matter of his family, I felt comfortable moving on. “That’s right.”
“Do you still own the boat?”
“No. I deeded it to Cooper three years ago. It took me that long to get him to take it.”
“Strange.”
“Not if you know Cooper. He’s as loyal a person as I’ve ever met.
Running the boat for me meant as much to him as running it for himself.
He simply didn’t aspire to more.” I reached for the loaf of bread.
“Which is what makes these charges against him so absurd. Cooper Drake doesn’t want or need money, so there’s no motive.
Aside from a speeding ticket or two, he hasn’t broken a law in his life.
He picks and chooses his friends with care, and he doesn’t mix with thugs.
There is no way he had anything to do with the smuggling of those diamonds. ”
“They were found on his boat. In his cabin. In a laundry bag with his name stenciled on it.”
My heart beat faster. “You’ve talked with someone.”
He nodded. “Assistant U.S. Attorney Hummel. We have a mutual friend in New York. When I told him I’d been asked to take the case, he filled me in one what’s happened so far.”
And that, I supposed, was why I was willing to overlook the bad vibes I’d had. A lawyer with clout could get things done. It was as simple as that.
“How is the State’s case?” I asked cautiously.
Peter shrugged with his mouth. “Not great. At least, based on what he told me, it’s not.”
“But Cooper was caught with the diamonds. Isn’t possession nine-tenths of a conviction?”
“All it takes is one-tenth to establish reasonable doubt, and with reasonable doubt comes an acquittal.”
“Do you think you can get one?”
“If I can establish reasonable doubt.”
“Do you think you can?”
“I won’t know until I’ve spoken with Cooper.”
“But you will take the case.”
“Again, I won’t know until I’ve spoken with Cooper.”
All roads led to Cooper. I was beginning to feel uneasy. “Why is that?”
“Because I have to get a feel for the man. I can’t represent him unless I believe in him. And if it turns out that he and I don’t see eye to eye on what has to be done—” He made a “pfft” sound and tossed his head.
With deliberate care, I took two slices of bread from the package, put them on a plate, covered one with tuna, then lettuce, then set the other on top.
I made a neat diagonal cut in the finished product and set the plate before Peter.
Instantly he began to eat, which was just what I’d hoped he’d do.
Hungry and mean was fine for the trial; for now, I needed full and indulgent.
Crossing my hands on the counter, I said, “By definition, a criminal lawyer defends criminals—”
He interrupted me with a raised finger, held it there until he’d swallowed, then said, “Alleged criminals.”
“Alleged criminals. Some of whom are totally innocent. They must be angry at having been accused. You must bear the brunt of their anger sometimes.”
“Sometimes.”
I thought for a minute, choosing my words with care. “There must be times when a client sees you as part of the system and resents you for that.”
Having taken another mouthful, he gave a slow, silent nod.
“And times,” I went on, “when a client doesn’t want help from anyone, least of all you.”
Peter stopped eating and gave the smallest tilt to his head. “Are you trying to tell me something, Jill?”
“Tell you something?” I asked. My voice was a little higher than usual. I wasn’t sure whether it was because he saw too much too fast, or whether it was simply the way he said my name. In either case, I was in trouble.
“Is Cooper angry?”
I debated lying, but it seemed pointless. “Yes.”
“Is he resisting help?”
“Would you like milk with this, or just coffee?”
“Jill?”
I felt a flicker of annoyance. “Yes, he’s resisting.”
“Does he know I’m here?”
“Of course, he knows you’re here. I wouldn’t have dragged you all the way from New York without mentioning it to him.”
Looking thoughtful, Peter popped the last of the sandwich half into his mouth. When it was gone, he speared me with an accusatory gaze. “You mentioned that I was coming, but he hasn’t agreed to cooperate.”
“He’s upset. He doesn’t understand the difference a good lawyer can make.”
“Did he agree to talk with me?”
“Yes.”
“Is he coming over here?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Sometime this afternoon. I couldn’t pin him down to a time. But he promised he’d be here.”
Without another word, Peter started eating again.
When he’d finished his first sandwich, he reached over, removed another two slices of bread from the loaf, forked up some of the tuna left in the bowl and made a second sandwich.
Swiveling in the other direction, he pulled the refrigerator open.
He had to leave the stool to get at the milk, and before I had time to prepare myself, he was standing beside me, looking for a
Again I felt that tiny catch in my chest. It was hard to ignore this time because it made my hand shake when I opened the cabinet.
I made a vague gesture that he should help himself and quickly lowered my hand to the solidity of the counter.
He took the glass, but didn’t move away. Nor did he say a word.
Barely a hair’s breadth separated us. My shoulder was an inhalation away from his chest, my arm his middle, my hip his groin.
He was close enough for me to feel the soft movement of his breath in my hair and smell the wonderfully male scent that had taunted me earlier.
But it was the heat of his body that affected me most; it penetrated both his clothing and mine to tempt me with the kind of solace that I’d been without for six long years.