by V. K. Powell
Regan covered the tightened grip on her arm and stared into Syd’s eyes. “You have to trust me,” she whispered. “I know it’s hard to hear your life trashed like this, but we’ll get our turn soon. Neither I nor Judge Chamberlinck will let this get out of hand.” Her eyes remained on their joined hands for a few seconds before meeting Syd’s. “Trust me?”
Something in her expression made Syd feel less apprehensive. “I think I can do that.”
Bell continued his diatribe. “It is our contention that Officer Cabot was impaired the night of this incident and therefore negligent in the death of Lee Nartey. The surviving members of Mr. Nartey’s family have been denied the pleasure of this young man’s presence in their lives, not to mention the potential income from what could have been a very lucrative career in the retail business. He was only eighteen years old so his earnings could have been substantial. Then there is the matter of medical and funeral compensation for this grieving family, combined with the mental anguish of seeing his young life so brutally and unnecessarily ended. We are also asking for punitive damages against Officer Cabot, as this death was intentionally and maliciously aggravated by alcohol while on duty.”
Bell retrieved a handkerchief from his back pocket and swiped at perspiration that had collected on his forehead. He shoved his summation back into the folder and returned to his seat.
Judge Chamberlinck simply looked at him. After several seconds of silence she asked, “And what, pray tell, Mr. Bell, do you see as reasonable compensation?”
Dean Bell sprang to his feet again like an unsteady jack-in-the-box. His chubby cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he realized that he’d failed to cap off his brilliant summary with a monetary price tag, a major legal faux pas. “The plaintiff respectfully requests monetary compensation in the amount of four million dollars, Your Honor.”
Syd could’ve sworn the judge rolled her eyes before diverting her gaze to some papers on the bench in front of her. Without raising her head, she said, “Ms. Desanto.”
Regan moved to the podium with the air of confidence Syd had glimpsed before. She was so elegant and self-assured that for a moment Syd forgot where they were and wanted simply to be alone in her arms, kissing her again. She scolded herself for the thought. Her professional future rested in this woman’s hands. Now was not the time to fantasize about those same capable hands cradling her body.
“Your Honor,” Regan began, “I’ll be brief. On the evening in question, Officer Cabot received a robbery call at Bradford Jewelers in Oak Hollow Mall. Witnesses working at the store identified Lee Nartey as the robber because he had worked there one day. He exited the mall after the robbery, dumping the items he’d taken into a trash receptacle on the way out because he was being pursued by mall security. These items were later recovered with his fingerprints on them. The gun he drew on Officer Cabot was purchased from an undercover officer working a sting operation for illegal weapons. Warrants were pending at the conclusion of the operation. Officer Cabot identified herself as a police officer and ordered Mr. Nartey to drop his weapon. He refused. It wasn’t until he raised the gun toward her, and Officer Cabot feared for her life, that she fired on him.
“Training records from the High Point Police Department document Cabot’s excellent firearms qualifications. Their standards exceed mandated state requirements and Cabot has never had any difficulty meeting those standards. Her use-of-force file is exemplary for a twelve-year officer. This is the only instance during her career. She prefers peaceful resolution to conflict. She followed the use-of-force continuum that night as events escalated.”
Syd sat a little straighter in her seat. Not only did the facts ring true this time, but the conviction with which Regan relayed them made Syd feel vindicated. She hadn’t really believed in her own innocence in a long time. Too much avoidance, denial, women, and booze had clouded her thinking and prevented her from reconsidering her actions with detachment. Hearing Regan so vehemently argue on her behalf made her heart swell with pride and relief.
“As to any impairment on Officer Cabot’s part, there was no indication that any existed. The fact that she had had a three-day weekend and whether or not she consumed some alcohol during that time is irrelevant. On the day of this incident, Officer Cabot stopped by the Cop Out on her way to work, as she did almost every day. It is her habit to drop by for a cup of coffee with the owner before reporting to duty. I have sworn testimony to this fact.”
Syd stared openly at Regan, amazed that she had conducted such a thorough investigation into her background and habits. It concerned her that Regan knew so much about her without Syd having provided that information. How much more did she know that could prove detrimental later in their relationship.
What relationship? Right now the only thing that should concern her was that Regan had done her homework and it seemed to be helping her case.
“Now the issue of compensation, Your Honor. I have the utmost sympathy for the loss of any human life. My condolences go out to the Nartey family. However, I must contest monetary compensation when there is no earnings history on which to base a projection of future income. A financial review indicates that this family spent money on Mr. Nartey that might have better served the household and the minor children. The City of High Point does not object to covering the medical and funeral costs of the family, with the stipulation that neither the city nor Officer Cabot assume any liability.” Regan gathered her notes. “Thank you for your attention, Your Honor.”
Judge Chamberlinck thanked both sides and said, “I’ll need a while to review my notes, the reports, and your statements. You’ll be notified of my decision before close of business today.”
The bailiff adjourned court and everyone except the Nartey family moved toward the exits. Syd waited while Regan filled her briefcase and shook hands with Bell. As they headed down the aisle, Lee Nartey’s mother stepped in front of her. “Mrs. Nartey, I’m so sorry about your son. Please—”
“You killed my boy for no reason. Why, I’d like to—” The woman drew back her hand and was bringing it forward to slap Syd’s face when Regan grabbed her wrist.
“No. This is not the way to deal with your grief.”
Syd had seen the blow coming and hadn’t tried to avoid it, perhaps out of disbelief. Or perhaps she thought she deserved it in some way. She was surprised that Regan had defended her at all. It was her job to represent her in court, not to protect her person or her honor.
“Why did you do that?” Syd had to ask as Regan steered her out another exit.
No one other than her fellow officers had ever taken up for her. Other women usually assumed she was the strong one because she was a cop, and she’d played along. It was easier to live up to a stereotype than to expose her vulnerability by asking for what she really wanted. Having Regan defend her was a huge turn-on, emotionally and physically.
Regan smiled at her as if reading her mind. “I’m not about to stand by and let anyone hit you, especially when you don’t appear inclined to defend yourself.” She edged closer to Syd as they walked back to her office. “It’s not your fault that young man died. He made a series of bad decisions that left you no other choice. And when the judge gives her ruling, you’ll be completely vindicated.”
When they arrived at Regan’s office, Syd closed the door behind them. “Thank you so much for everything you’ve done. I know I haven’t made it easy for you.”
“You’re welcome. It’s my job.”
“Having said that, I hate to ask, but I need one more favor.”
Regan eyed her. “Name it.”
Syd bowed her head and studied a staple stuck in the carpet. “I’d like to see the women you brought in as witnesses before they leave. Could I speak with them in the conference room for a few minutes?”
Regan looked as if she wanted to object, her blue eyes turning from sparkling azure to deep sapphire. “Of course. I’ll make it happen. Give me ten minutes.” She started toward the door, hesitated like
she thought Syd might reconsider, then she was gone.
Confronting the women she’d used was not something Syd relished, particularly on the day of her trial and especially not en masse, but they had come forward to help her, according to Regan. That deserved at least a personal thank-you.
A light tap on Regan’s office door was followed by her assistant peeking around the corner. “Ms. Desanto said they’re ready in the conference room.”
“Thanks.” As Syd walked down the hallway, for the second time today she felt like she was marching toward a firing squad. She’d barely had the courage to face these women one-on-one after bedding them. Now she was going to face them all at once. Pausing outside the conference-room door, she wondered if she’d lost her mind.
*
Regan tried not to make eye contact with any of the women seated around the conference table. She’d formed a mental image of what each would look like from her phone conversations with them: gorgeous, sexy, and oozing with desire. Having her images confirmed in the flesh and finding herself lacking in all three areas was not her idea of a fun way to pass the time. Instead she looked at Syd.
She was still wearing her dress uniform, and Regan could barely contain herself. The trousers and shirt still fit Syd well, but she had obviously lost weight. There was just enough slack in her outfit that a carefully placed hand could easily fit inside the pants or shirt front. That thought sent a trickle of excitement scurrying down Regan’s tense body. But what was even more compelling about Syd’s appearance was a subtle softening between person and profession.
Regan’s earlier recollections of Syd featured a harsh contrast between the woman and the job, an almost tangible struggle for balance. Now Syd’s personal presence seemed to overshadow the rigid formality of her uniform. Regan could look beyond the outer veneer to a poignantly vulnerable creature. More than anything, she longed to reassure Syd that her world could be safe again. Winning this case would go far toward proving that point, and Syd would be able to return to her normal life. Soon they would know the judge’s decision.
The moment Syd closed the door behind her a young shapely redhead rushed over and wrapped her arms around her. Several other women flinched as if suppressing an urge to gather around her and offer comfort as well. Regan clenched her fists at her sides, realizing that she’d stifled exactly the same impulse.
“Oh, my God, Syd, I had no idea you were in so much trouble. You should’ve called. I would’ve been there instantly.” The redhead clung to Syd as the other women looked on.
Syd’s face blanched. “Tina.” She removed the woman’s arms from her waist and stepped back. “Please have a seat.”
The redhead’s gushing smile turned into a pouty frown. Syd moved to the head of the table, and Regan watched a cascade of emotions wash over her face as she regarded each of her discarded lovers with a sort of reverence.
“I—” Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and started over. “I really don’t know what to say. ‘I’m sorry’ seems most appropriate, based on my past behavior. And ‘thank you’ seems so overused and inadequate for what you’ve done for me today. I’m not sure I deserve your help, but I am truly grateful each of you was willing to offer it.” Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes. She started to leave but turned back to the group. “Thank you, really. You’re all very special women.”
With that the entire table cleared as the women swarmed Syd and enveloped her in a sea of hugs and reassurances. Regan marveled at the outpouring of emotion. Most of these women were mere acquaintances, but they still apparently felt a strong enough connection to support her. A deepened sense of respect swelled inside Regan as she recognized the courage it must have taken for Syd to face this gathering, especially under these circumstances. None of the women had been called upon, and it would have been easy for Syd to simply leave without further acknowledgment or comment. This was a side of her Regan had never seen, the side that faced difficulty head-on and took responsibility for herself and her actions. Regan made her way around the room toward the door and slipped out quietly, leaving Syd to experience the moment in private.
Chapter Twelve
Syd almost dropped the stainless martini shaker she was twirling around her head when the insistent rapping started on her loft door. She’d chosen a quiet night at home over the noisy crowd at the Cop Out, but that didn’t mean she’d abandoned civilization altogether. A cold dirty goose would help calm the frayed nerves caused by waiting for a verdict and seeing a roomful of her past flings. The stress would’ve sparked an all-night binge a few weeks ago, but she’d been content to come home and wait for the decision that could easily change the course of her life.
Placing the shaker on the counter, she glanced down in irritation at her crotch-length cut-off blue jeans and tank top with no bra. She’d intended to change while she waited for the phone call from Regan, then offer to meet her, either to celebrate or commiserate. Whoever was rude enough to try to tear her door off the hinges would have to accept being greeted by an underdressed woman. Syd wasn’t expecting anyone. An image of the redhead flashed into her mind. She’d been reluctant to say good-bye when everyone left. Had she followed Syd home?
Frowning, Syd stalked over to the door and swung it open. “I said I didn’t want company. I—”
She stopped mid-sentence. Regan stood rigid and startled, her hand poised. She was still dressed in her business slacks and blouse from court. The look on her face was fixed and unrevealing. Syd’s heart sank.
“I guess you better come in. I don’t want the whole complex to witness my meltdown when I hear your news.” She stepped aside to allow Regan entry. “I assume you do have news.”
When the door closed behind her, Regan grabbed Syd’s hands like an eager child with a juicy secret to share. Emotion flooded her face. “Oh, yes, I have news. Maybe you should sit down. No, don’t. Stand. Better yet, let’s dance.” Regan swung them around in small circles throughout the room until they collapsed on the sofa, Syd landing on top of her. Panting for breath, she finally screamed, “It’s over. We won!”
Syd’s heart stalled then galloped with another surge of adrenaline. She cupped Regan’s face between her hands and kissed her on the mouth, fully and completely, allowing herself to feel the ecstasy of the moment and to relay it. She couldn’t imagine that any kiss had ever been sweeter. When the euphoria over the news changed to aching physical arousal, Syd realized that the lips touching hers had suddenly stilled.
She opened her eyes and gazed into the deep swirling blue of Regan’s stare. Regan made no attempt to free herself from her pinned position on the sofa. It was almost as if she’d tacitly submitted to Syd’s will and was waiting for more. The situation was a reversal for Syd. While she usually controlled her seductions, she’d never actively taken charge. And Regan seemed a most unlikely candidate for topping. But their entire encounter so far was strange and unfamiliar. Syd wasn’t used to feeling…joyful with a woman. There was something incredibly compelling about the feel of Regan beneath her and the sense that they were also on the same emotional plane.
“I should probably thank you,” she whispered into Regan’s ear, and lightly nibbled her lobe. She wedged her bare thigh between Regan’s legs and felt her tremble.
“Don’t you think we should stop and…” Regan made a feeble attempt to get up.
“No, I don’t think we should start analyzing. You do way too much of that as it is. Just let me show my gratitude.”
“You’re doing an outstanding job so far.” Regan relaxed onto the sofa. “Feel free to keep thanking me.”
Syd ground her pelvis into Regan’s and was rewarded with a throaty moan. “What did the judge say, Counselor? Spill it.”
A stream of sexual current charged through her as Regan’s groan of appreciation reverberated down her spine. This woman had fought for her professionally and now she was surrendering herself personally. Syd felt woefully unworthy but totally rewarded. She wanted desperately to give
something back. This time it wasn’t about her pleasure. It was about this gorgeous, intelligent, trusting woman beneath her.
Regan’s breathing increased as Syd’s rocking intensified between her legs. “All findings were in our favor. No negligence. No punitive damages. Payment of funeral costs.”
“That’s great.” Syd hesitated. How could she possibly show her appreciation in a way that expressed what she was really feeling? Already her body was humming with arousal, close to the point of no return. But she didn’t want Regan to misread her motives as purely sexual. Shifting to lessen the contact between their bodies, she said, “I should probably get up.”
“Please don’t. I need this and so do you.” Regan pulled her back down and stopped further protest with a deep, penetrating kiss.
The pressure building inside Syd caught her by surprise. It was upon her so swiftly that she had no defense against it. She was unsure if it was the welcome news or Regan that sparked the spontaneous orgasm, but she was in the throes of release before she could warn her partner. She simply buried her head between Regan’s breasts and sobbed as the climax rippled through her. She felt Regan shudder beneath her and wondered momentarily if she’d come as well, but dismissed the idea as too surreal.
After several minutes of silent crying, Syd regained her composure enough to say, “I’m sorry. I have no idea what that was about.” She was thoroughly embarrassed by her lack of emotional and sexual control. This had never happened to her before, and she felt helpless and inept.
“Don’t apologize. You’ve been emotionally shut down for months. Release was inevitable sooner or later.” Regan put her finger under Syd’s chin and raised her face so she could look into her eyes. “I’m just glad it happened with me. I’m bound by attorney-client privilege.”
Syd appreciated Regan’s attempt at humor, but she still felt she’d let her down. “So, what happens now?”
