“This isn’t exactly how I imagined our conversation would go when I came to talk to you this afternoon,” he began. “I wanted to tell you that I still love you.”
Anna nodded, but said nothing.
“I wanted to know if there was any chance you still had feelings for me,” Nick said.
“Nick,” Anna sighed, “of course I still have feelings for you. Why do you think I agreed to meet you tonight? For the past year we struggled with I’m-a-prosecutor-you’re-a-defense-attorney. We gave each other up for our jobs. So when you told me you were quitting, I thought this could change everything—maybe we can have our happy ending after all. But . . . I need to know what happened with Laprea Johnson.”
“Don’t ask me that, Anna.”
“I deserve to know what happened.”
“I agree. But don’t ask.”
“Nick.” She stepped forward and met his eyes. “I can help you. Did you know that the video recording system in your building recycles? The tape from that night will be gone, overwritten, in nine days. I’m the only one who’s seen it. If I wait a few days to send a subpoena, there’ll be nothing tying you to Laprea that night. Do you get it, Nick? I can help you. But I need to know the truth.”
Nick paused, staring out at the water. When he finally turned to Anna, his voice was calm and emotionless. “It was an accident, Anna. D’marco beat up Laprea that night, and I guess she blamed me. She was furious, crazy. You must have seen that on the tape.”
Anna nodded.
“I never should have let her upstairs like that, but I was afraid of what she might do. She wasn’t any better up in my place. I tried to calm her down, but she just got wilder. I couldn’t get her to leave my house. Then she grabbed my phone and said she was calling the police. Calling the police—on me! I had to practically rip the phone out of her hands. And then she’s kicking and swinging at me.
“I hit her, but I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt her. She was attacking me. But she fell back, and her head—her head hit the stones. The fireplace.” Nick started to choke up. He forced his next words out between ragged breaths. “There was a cracking sound. God, Anna. And the blood. There was so much blood.”
Anna swallowed a wave of nausea. Nick was no longer looking at Anna, but above her. He wasn’t seeing the trees or the Tidal Basin, but the picture in his mind.
“I tried to do CPR. But it didn’t matter—she was dead. I still kept trying. I was in shock. Literally, medically in shock. Do you see, Anna? It was an accident.”
“Why didn’t you just call the police?” Anna asked softly.
Nick blinked and turned his gaze back to Anna.
“God, the fucking police—they hate me! Can you imagine me calling the police? Hi, this is Nick Wagner from OPD, this crazy bitch just fell and died in my apartment. They’d have loved it.”
Anna slapped him, hard.
“You asshole! You killed Laprea Johnson—you orphaned her children—and you talk about her that way! You pinned her death on your own client!”
“I’m sorry!” Nick knew he’d gone too far. He held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture and lowered his voice. “I’m sorry. But Laprea was out of control. And D’marco Davis was just getting worse. That’s why you tried to get him locked up in the first place, right? Fact is, he would’ve killed her eventually. And he would’ve gone to jail. All I did was accelerate that.”
Anna stared at him in wonder. She remembered what Nick had told her about his father’s hit-and-run. Nick had deliberately shaped his life to avoid becoming his father. But when it really mattered, he’d done exactly what his father taught him.
Her silence seemed to encourage Nick. He took a step toward her and kept talking. “I just panicked, Anna. But it’s okay now, see? D’marco is in jail for what he did, not for killing Laprea. There’s no more murder case. And I’m done with criminal law. We can go on with our lives. It’s all over.”
He put his hand lightly on her arm. “I love you, Anna.”
She flinched away, repulsed.
“You love me, too.” The arrogance in his voice was gone, replaced with a soft pleading. “Right?”
She shook her head and pulled her torn shirt tighter across her chest. She didn’t love him now. She never would again.
“It’s over, Nick.”
The wild look in his eyes grew brighter. He was fiddling with something in his pocket.
“Don’t say that! We’re in love. It can be like it used to be.”
“I’m sorry. You’re not the man I thought you were. I’m not the woman I thought I was.”
“It’s him, isn’t it?” Nick spat. “Jack.”
He gestured with his left hand while his right hand stayed in his pocket.
“This isn’t about Jack.”
“The hell it’s not!”
Nick slowly drew the gun out of his pocket and pointed it at the ground. Anna stared at the dull black metal. She fought the urge to flee. She couldn’t outrun a bullet.
“A gun.” She spoke slowly as she eyed the weapon. “Is that the same gun you promised to get rid of?”
A shade of hysteria tinged his laugh. “Seems pretty minor compared to everything else, doesn’t it?”
“Nick, take it easy. You’re only making things worse for yourself.”
“No, Anna. There’s no way things could get any worse.”
Nick racked the slide, chambering a round in the weapon.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
• • •
Across the Tidal Basin, Jack held a set of earphones to one ear as a police officer pointed a parabolic microphone at the monument. The mike was the size and shape of a large round serving platter, curved toward the sound it was picking up. Jack had anticipated that the defense attorney might suspect that Anna was being taped, so he’d used this microphone rather than equipment that would go under clothing. The parabolic microphone couldn’t work everywhere, but the Tidal Basin was the perfect site. With the mike focused across the clear space of the water, Jack and the police team had recorded the entire conversation between Anna and Nick.
Anna’s calm announcement that Nick had a gun made Jack’s stomach clench into a knot of terror.
“Go!” Jack yelled to the group of SWAT officers standing behind him. “Go! Go!”
The officers ran through the forest of pine trees that surrounded the cherry blossoms.
Jack shoved his earphones at an officer staying behind with the microphone and—although it wasn’t protocol—ran with the arrest team, through the trees. He cursed himself for letting Anna put herself at risk. As a prosecutor, he felt it had been the right call—look what they’d gotten, a full confession! As a man, he felt sick with regret.
Jack pushed himself to run even faster. Somehow he stayed on his feet, despite the uneven ground and jutting roots. He didn’t feel the branches clawing at his body, tearing bloody little creek beds into his arms and face. He had to get to Anna before Nick hurt her.
• • •
Anna stared at Nick. He was still pointing the gun at the ground. Her initial fear from seeing the gun subsided. She realized Nick wouldn’t hurt her. She’d always known that about him. But she knew what he planned to do, and it filled her with dread.
“Easy, Nick, take it easy.” She used her most soothing voice. “Look at me. It’s gonna be okay. Just put the gun down.”
“I’m sorry for everything,” he choked. “I can’t live with this.”
“You can make amends. We’ll find a way.”
“How can I make amends? Can I bring Laprea back? Can I give those kids their mother?”
“You can’t fix things if you’re dead!”
“I deserve to die.”
He placed the muzzle of the gun under his chin.
“Nick, no! You don’t deserve a death sentence! You wouldn’t give that to any of your clients. Don’t do it to yourself. Please.”
“What do I have to live for? Waiting for you and Jack to indict me? A trial, the press circu
s, prison?”
He wanted her to convince him that things could be okay. He wanted her to say she wouldn’t turn him in. It was too late for that. She tried to think of anything she could say that would make a difference.
“If you ever cared about me, you wouldn’t do this.”
It sounded so trite, she was surprised to see him lower his gun.
“Anna—” he started.
The arrest team came crashing through the trees right then. A dozen thundering, panting men in black paramilitary uniforms pointed their guns at Nick. Jack was among them, waving his arms and shouting.
“Don’t shoot!” Jack yelled to his men. “Don’t shoot! She’s too close! You don’t have a clear shot!”
Nick looked at Anna, his face twisted with the shock of her betrayal. Then his eyes cut to Jack. Nick raised the gun and pointed it at the Homicide chief.
“Fuck you,” Nick whispered.
“Jack, get down!” Anna screamed. She lunged at Nick and grabbed his wrist with all her strength—just as he pulled the trigger.
The gun fired: an earsplitting blast, a spark of orange in the dark night.
And then everything went black.
40
Jack clenched his stomach, bracing himself for the shot. But nothing hit him. He looked wildly around to see if anyone else had been hit. The officers were all standing.
Then Anna swayed and collapsed at Nick’s feet.
“No!” Nick howled, and reached for her.
Jack was on him in a moment, yanking the defense attorney to the ground. Jack moved with a savagery he hadn’t known he possessed.
“Don’t you touch her,” Jack growled.
The rest of the team ran over. Jack shoved Nick at McGee.
“Arrest him,” Jack ordered. He sank down to Anna’s side.
McGee kicked Nick’s gun away from his feet and slapped on a set of handcuffs. Nick was sobbing and calling for Anna as McGee led him to a squad car.
Anna lay motionless on the grass. Jack put his hand down by her head and felt warm wetness. Blood.
“Anna?” Jack asked quietly. She didn’t move. The remaining officers gathered in a quiet black circle around her. Faces grim, they quietly lowered their guns. Their silence was unnerving. It took something really serious to hush a bunch of fired-up SWAT cops. “Call an ambulance!” Jack ordered. A couple of the officers pulled radios from their belts and stepped respectfully away to make their calls.
Jack turned back to Anna. He put a hand lightly on her chest. She was breathing shallowly. That was better than nothing. He tried to see where the bullet had gone in, but didn’t see an obvious wound. He knew he shouldn’t move her body until the paramedics got here.
He held her hand as he stroked her hair. He started talking to her, hoping his voice would help her find her way back from whatever dark place she was in.
“Anna, you did great. You were incredible.” He prayed she would hold on until the paramedics arrived. He could hear their sirens, approaching in the distance. “You saved my life.”
She was as still as the ground she was lying on. Jack’s heart skidded in his chest.
A bunch of people came crashing out of the trees: a handful of policemen leading two paramedics holding medical bags. The officers standing around Anna parted for them.
“Over here,” Jack yelled, pointing at Anna.
The paramedics bent down next to her. Jack stayed by her side as they began examining her.
He realized now—he admitted it in a way he hadn’t allowed himself before—that he was in love with this girl. This woman who had squared her shoulders, walked out here, and, with courage and dignity, done the right thing. He loved her. And he had squandered the short time he’d been given to be with her. Jack lowered his voice to a whisper.
“Come on. I can’t lose you. I need you, Anna. I love you.”
Seconds passed. Then Anna blinked her eyes open and grinned weakly.
“I thought so,” she whispered.
EPILOGUE
It was late on a Saturday morning, and the courthouse was quiet. Anna used her left hand to insert her motion in limine into the time-stamp machine. The little device hummed as it thumped the date onto the upper corner of the paper. She slid it into the slot for after-hours filings.
Anna was getting more adept at doing things one-handedly. She still wore a blue sling on her right arm, and her right shoulder ached. But the bullet hadn’t hit bone. Although Anna had lost a lot of blood that night, the doctors said that her injury would heal up cleanly. That was one thing she had in common with D’marco Davis.
Anna didn’t mind working while injured, or on the weekend—not one bit. The office had reassigned her to a trial section. Now she was prosecuting felony domestic violence cases. It was what she’d always wanted to do. Anna had a trial coming up, and a slew of pretrial motions to file. She was finally back to doing what she loved.
She walked out of the courthouse’s big glass doors onto the wide brick patio at the front of the building. Jack was waiting for her, leaning against the edge of the concrete flower box. He stood up when she walked out.
“You work too hard, Ms. Curtis.”
“Just taking a page from your book, Mr. Bailey.”
They walked to his station wagon, parked at the curb a few steps away. Anna peered in the backseat. Three children’s booster seats were filled with three lively five-year-olds. Olivia, Dameka, and D’montrae were playing with a set of plastic dinosaurs. They waved when they saw Anna at the window.
Jack held the door open and she climbed into the passenger seat.
“Hi, Anna!” the children called in singsong unison. She turned back to them with a smile.
“Hello, cuties.”
“Can we see the pandas?” Dameka asked excitedly.
“Please, please?” Olivia begged.
“Absolutely.”
As Jack drove, the children quizzed Anna about the animals they would see that day. Anna answered as best she could, wishing she’d spent more time watching Animal Planet. Was a gecko a reptile or an amphibian? She had no idea. But she loved spending time with these little ones. Since Nick’s arrest, Rose had softened toward Anna, and allowed Anna and Jack to see Dameka and D’montrae occasionally. Olivia and the twins loved playing with each other.
The twins were still adjusting to life without their mother. It would be a long process. Anna’s office had helped Rose get them into a good counseling program. Their father had gotten a five-figure settlement from the city for being shot in jail; he’d signed it over to Rose. The money would help Dameka and D’montrae avoid the financial problems that affected many of their friends. But Rose told Anna that both children had nightmares that woke them screaming many nights. D’montrae had started acting out in school, which he’d never done before. Anna didn’t spend as much time with the children as Rose did, but even she could see the clouds pass over their faces sometimes. At least the children had Rose, Anna thought. Their grandmother was devoted to them. In that way, the twins were far more fortunate than many children in the city.
The drive to the National Zoo took ten minutes, and soon Anna, Jack, and the kids were walking down the redbrick walk. It was a warm early-summer day, sunny without the stifling humidity that would come later in the season. The children ran ahead of the adults. Anna was glad to see the twins at play. From a distance, they looked like normal, happy children, untouched by tragedy.
Olivia paused at the head of the Asia Trail and turned to instruct her father to hurry up.
“Go ahead,” Jack said. “Just stay close enough that we can see you.”
He took Anna’s hand as they walked behind the children, past the clouded leopards, fishing cats, and sloth bears. Finally, they reached the big panda yard. Two pandas were playing in the grass with a sturdy red ball; the pandas were flipping over each other to get the toy. The children squealed and shoved their way through the crowd of taller people to get a spot near to the front.
�
��Say ‘Excuse me’!” Jack called to them.
“Excuse me!” they yelled, continuing to push through the crowd.
Anna laughed. “It’s hard to be polite when there are pandas.”
The kids wiggled into a space at the fence and watched, enraptured, as the pandas knocked each other and the ball around the yard.
Jack put his arm around Anna’s shoulders, and she leaned into him as they watched the children watching the bears. She savored the feel of his solid chest against her shoulder, and she let her head lean back until her temple rested against his chin. He brushed his lips over her ear, sending a delicious shiver of warmth into her belly. She turned to Jack and gazed at him with a silent rush of love and happiness. Jack met her eyes and smiled.
“Me too,” he said softly.
She reached up and pulled his head down to hers. They kissed for a few moments longer than people should kiss in the middle of a zoo.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am deeply thankful for the love and support of my parents, who are nothing like Anna’s. My father, Alan Harnisch, is one of the nicest men in the world, and my mother, Diane Harnisch, is a bit of a local legend for her energy, guts, and organizational skills. Any success I’ve had has been built on the foundation they gave me.
Many thanks to my beautiful sisters, Kerry Hughes and Tracey Fitzgerald, my two best friends. Much love goes to my amazing grandmothers, Bertl Reis and Gertrude Breidenbach. Thanks to Laurie Harnisch for her thoughtfulness and enthusiasm.
The huge, loud, unconditionally loving Leotta clan is a force of nature, and I’m lucky to be part of it. Thank you to John, Carol, and Barbara for being my second family. Often, whether I’m writing or raising my boys, I try to be guided by what Mom Eileen would have done.
I’m incredibly grateful for the advice and support of Diana Amsterdam, a talented writer and my literary fairy godmother. Her early guidance jump-started this story and made it publishable.
Thanks to my steadfast friends and early readers, Jenny McIntyre, Jeff Cook, Eric Gallun, and Lynn Haaland. Your cheer, counsel, and laughter (with and at me) were critical. And thanks to Michelle Zamarin, Steve Spiegelhalter, and Meg McCoy for making me look good.
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