Body of Evidence

by Pickart, Joan Elliott; Davis, Justine; Merritt, Jackie

  “Well, Franklin paid the ultimate price for his greed,” Jennifer said quietly, staring at the outline of the murdered man’s body. “It’s probably terrible of me to say this, Evan, but with Franklin Gardner dead we can at least know that a great many young girls have been saved from a horrible existence.”

  “That thought has occurred to me more than once.” Evan nodded. “Franklin paid the piper, big-time. But even though he was an evil, heartless man, his killer can’t go unpunished. No one has the right to get away with what happened in this room, to take the life of another human being. Lyle is going to pay his dues, too.”

  Jennifer placed one hand on Evan’s arm. “You’ll get your conviction, Evan, I know you will.”

  “Will I? I need more evidence than what I have, Jennifer. The detectives working this case and I are convinced that the bruises were caused by the signet ring that Lyle always wore. A ring, he claims, he lost. Damn, we need that ring, but it’s nowhere to be found. The detectives are still looking for it but…” He shook his head.

  “Are you here this morning to search for it again?”

  “No, this place has been gone over inch by inch. The ring isn’t here. There’s no real purpose to be served by my being here. I just wanted to connect with the whole event again, try to imagine it in my mind as it unfolded that night. I suppose you could put in your documentary that the district attorney wasted taxpayer money by returning to the scene of the crime for no plausible reason.”

  “I wouldn’t do that. If you feel the need to be here, then here you should be. It’s sort of creepy though to be standing here realizing that a man was murdered by his own brother in this very room. It’s too bad you can’t bring the jury here, let them see this, feel the evil vibes in here.”

  “The judge would never go for that.”

  “I suppose not.” Jennifer paused. “Can you imagine what Cecelia Gardner must be going through? One of her sons is dead and the other one is accused of his murder. Her world as she knew it is destroyed. Her heart must be breaking.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Evan said, starting to wander slowly around the room. “From what I hear, there are mixed opinions about whether Cecelia Gardner even has a heart. Oh, she’s considered the grande dame of Chicago society and makes certain her picture is in the newspaper whenever possible in connection with charity events she sponsors. But she’s a tough old gal who is used to having her own way.

  “She went all the way to the top, to the governor, to attempt to get Lyle released on bail. He refused but Cecelia managed to rattle some cages, get some very pithy quotes in the paper about the need for a new governor, new mayor, a new district attorney, and a complete overhaul of the police department.”

  “She wanted you fired?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Evan said, smiling. “I said we had enough evidence against Lyle to go to trial. The lady is after my hide. Belinda knows to never put through any call to me from Cecelia Gardner. I have neither the time, nor the patience to deal with her.”

  “It’s probably the first time in her life that her money and social standing haven’t gotten her what she wants. She doesn’t sound like a pleasant person, but a part of me can’t help but think about the fact that she’s a mother who might very well lose both of her sons. What a chilling thought.”

  Evan turned to look at Jennifer. “You sound like a mother right now. You’re taking Cecelia’s actions to a place I hadn’t even thought of, but one that a mother would understand. It doesn’t make me particularly like the uppity woman any more than I did before, but it does show me another layer to her that I hadn’t considered. It doesn’t have anything to do with Lyle’s trial though, if you stop and think about it.”

  “I realize that.”

  “Strange. You haven’t even met the woman, yet you immediately jumped to her role of mother and what she might be feeling in that arena.”

  Because I’m going to be a mother, Evan, Jennifer’s mind yelled. She was already so fiercely protective of the baby she carried that it startled her at times. Well, she wasn’t going to open her mouth and announce that little tidbit to Evan Stone.

  “It’s a woman thing,” Jennifer said breezily.

  “Oh,” Evan said, chuckling, “I see. There are a whole bunch of those woman things that men can give up on ever understanding. Women are very complicated creatures.”

  Jennifer smiled. “Give me one example of what you perceive to be a woman thing.”

  “Okay, but let’s get out of this study. You’re right about the nasty vibes in this room.”

  Back in the living room Evan commented on the fantastic view of Lake Michigan and Lincoln Park from the wall of windows on the far side of the room.

  “Postcard-perfect picture, and you’re stalling,” Jennifer said, folding her arms beneath her breasts.

  “You’re right.” Evan laughed. “Okay, okay, give me a minute here.” He ran one hand over his chin. “A woman thing. I got one. When I was in high school I walked into the room just as my mother asked my father if he still loved her. He lowered the newspaper he was reading in his favorite chair, looked at my mom like she was nuts and said ‘I’m still here, aren’t I?’ I can remember nodding and heading for my room, but my mother burst into tears.”

  “Well, of course, she did,” Jennifer said, shifting her hands to her hips. “She needed to hear the actual words right then, at that very moment. She needed to hear your father say that he loved her.”

  “He thought he had,” Evan said, shrugging, “with the answer he gave her.”

  “Oh-h-h…men,” Jennifer said, rolling her eyes heavenward.

  “That,” Evan said, pointing one finger in the air, “was a fine example of a woman thing.”

  “You’re right.” Jennifer laughed. “You’re absolutely right. You’d do well to remember that incident, Evan, because you may need that data at some point in your life. ‘I’m still here, aren’t I?’ does not cut it when your wife asks if you still love her.”

  Evan closed the distance between them and looked directly into Jennifer’s green eyes.

  “I doubt that I’ll ever need that information. Maybe I will, someday, but I…” He shook his head. “With the hours I put in with this job I wouldn’t even be in a position to blow it by saying that because I’d probably not be there the majority of the time.”

  “It would depend on how badly you wanted a wife and family, I guess,” Jennifer said, hardly above a whisper. “Whether or not you loved someone enough to make changes, learn to delegate some of the workload and…. If the president of the United States can find time for his wife and children, then…I’m sorry. I’m overstepping. This is none of my business.”

  “Isn’t it?” Evan said, still pinning her in place with his intense gaze. “Aren’t you as focused on your career as I am on mine?”

  “Yes, at the moment I am.”

  But things were going to be different once their baby was born, she thought. She had no intention of traveling all the time, or dragging in so exhausted late at night that she fell across her bed fully clothed and went to sleep. She’d find the proper balance between her role of mother and career woman. And wife? No, she wouldn’t be a wife. Without even realizing he was doing it, Evan was making that fact crystal clear.

  “What do you mean ‘at the moment’?” Evan said, pulling Jennifer from her thoughts.

  “Nothing,” she said, averting her eyes from his. “Could we leave? I don’t like being in this place.”

  Evan glanced around. “Yes, I’m finished here without having accomplished a damn thing to help my case.”

  “You mustn’t give up, Evan.”

  “I don’t intend to. When I want something, sweet Jenny, I fight for it until the last bell rings. I don’t admit defeat until it’s popping me in the chops. When I really want something I hang in very tough to get it.”

  Well said, Jennifer thought, as they started across the room. If only Evan wanted to discover with that intensity what they might
have together. If only he would be thrilled beyond measure when told she was carrying his baby. Pipe dreams, Jennifer. That’s all that those are.

  Chapter 3

  Late that afternoon Evan sat in the leather chair behind the desk in his office and stared into space. For the umpteenth time since being in Franklin’s penthouse the question he had asked Jennifer and the answer she had given echoed in his mind.

  If a woman who appeared to be totally dedicated to her career implied that that was the status of her life now, at the moment, didn’t that mean she might very well have a different focus planned for the future somewhere in her “it’s a woman thing” mind?

  Like…perhaps…maybe…Jennifer might, just might, wish to fall in love, marry, have a family? It made sense to him that that was what she had meant. And every time he centered on that thought, he was suffused with a strange and foreign warmth that started somewhere in the vicinity of his heart then traveled throughout him.

  Evan shook his head in self-disgust.

  He was really going off the deep end. He was rewriting the future script of Jennifer’s life based on a statement she had made, then refused to elaborate on. For all he knew, she was saying she was tired of working so hard, planned to have more leisure time for herself between assignments to relax, party, date a multitude of men.

  A cold knot tightened in Evan’s stomach at the mental image he was painting of Jennifer dancing at a nightclub with a faceless man who was the recipient of Jennifer’s sunshine smile. A man who would take her home, be invited in for coffee, then…

  “If he touches her I’ll…” Evan said, lunging to his feet, then glanced quickly at the door to be certain it was tightly closed.

  He sank back onto his chair and sighed. It was a sigh that came from the very depths of his soul and took his heart along for the ride. It was a sigh of defeat, of having nowhere to hide from the truth.

  He was slowly but surely falling in love with Jennifer Anderson.

  And it was, without a doubt, the dumbest thing he had ever done in his entire life.

  He didn’t have time to be in love, to be half of a whole, to do his part to nurture a relationship that would hopefully lead to marriage and babies. And there was no hint from her that she was in love with him, would consider making room in her life for a husband and children.

  Yeah, sure, she cared for him, was attracted to him, responded to his kisses with no hesitation, and when they made love? Oh, man, when they made love….

  “Don’t go there, Stone,” he said, as heat rocketed through his body.

  He leaned his head on the top of the chair and closed his eyes.

  What a mess, he thought. He was falling in love for the first time in his life and was losing his heart to a woman who was as dedicated to her career as he was to his. A woman who might very well take off for parts unknown to film her next documentary when she was finished with this one without a backward glance. A woman who cared for him, but wasn’t in love with him, and who would have no problem walking out of his life and dismissing him from her mind.

  While she was dismissing him, he would be missing her. Aching for her. Scrambling around to find the pieces of his shattered heart so he could hopefully glue it back together.

  Damn it, why couldn’t she be falling in love with him, just as he was with her?

  “Oh, that’s good,” he muttered, not opening his eyes. “So mature. Make it all her fault that you’re a miserable wreck, Stone.”

  Now that he thought about it, why would Jennifer fall in love with him? He’d made it clear to her that he had no room in his existence for a serious relationship. Someday, maybe, sure he might want a wife and kids, but now? Hey, he was the district attorney, worked twenty-four seven, which was exactly the way he liked it. He hadn’t exactly presented himself as the catch of the year.

  But he didn’t have to put in the long, long hours he did to excel at this job. He had a top-notch staff of assistant district attorneys, paralegals, secretaries, research people, investigators. He could delegate so much of what he did on his own and not diminish one iota his dedication and purpose.

  He could do that, would do that, if Jennifer actually loved him.

  And that, he thought gloomily, was a pipe dream.

  A knock at the door caused Evan to jerk upward in his chair.

  “What!” he yelled.

  The door was opened and Jennifer poked her head around the edge.

  “Is it safe to come in? Or should I just throw you some raw meat? Belinda isn’t at her desk, but she told Sticks earlier that you wanted to see me.”

  “Sorry I barked at you,” Evan said, getting to his feet. “Yes, I do want to see you.”

  And hold you, Evan thought, and kiss you senseless, and make love to you for hours. There, walking toward him right now, was the only woman he had ever inched toward falling in love with. She was coming closer and closer, but she might as well be on the opposite side of the world for all the good her close proximity would do him. Ah, Jenny.

  Jennifer sat down in one of the chairs opposite Evan’s desk. He remained standing, looking at her intently.

  “Do I have a ladybug on my nose?” she said. “Why are you staring and glaring at me?”

  Evan sank onto his chair. “Sorry. My mind was off and running somewhere.”

  “You wanted to see me?” Jennifer prompted.

  “I did?” Evan said, frowning. “Oh. Yes. I did. I do. And here you are. Good.”

  “Evan, for Pete’s sake, what’s wrong?” she said, matching his frown. “You’re acting very strangely.”

  “Tired. I’m very, very tired, that’s all.” Evan cleared his throat. “Okay, here’s the deal. We’re running out of time as far as lightning striking, or some such thing, and producing some solid evidence against Lyle.

  “To be more precise, we need the damnable ring he claims he lost and a way to prove he was wearing it when Franklin was murdered. That ring isn’t suddenly going to drop into our laps so I’m going to have to go to trial next week with what I have.”

  “You’ll get your conviction, Evan.”

  “I wish I had your confidence,” he said, shaking his head. “Anyway, I’m going to spend the next two or three days reviewing information with the people who are going to testify for the prosecution. In all fairness to them I don’t want you filming them coming in and out of here. Granted, the reporters will see that their pictures are splashed across the newspapers, but I don’t think it’s fair to expose them to further scrutiny in the documentary.”

  “I understand.” Jennifer nodded.

  “And it goes without saying, I’m sure, that a D.A. going over testimony with his witnesses is not meant for public review. So, what I’m saying here is that beyond maybe showing my closed office door and stating what is taking place in this office, there’s nothing for you to do around here until the trial commences.”

  “Oh. Well. Yes, I guess you’re right. Sticks and I will spend the time back at the studio viewing what we have so far and starting to edit the film.”

  “That sounds very…productive,” Evan said, leaning forward and fiddling with a pen. “Because the mayor is so high on this documentary, you’ll be allowed to film in the courtroom while the reporters are stuck taking notes and making do with artist drawings of various witnesses. You’re not going to be very popular among the press, you know. Jealousy will rear its ugly head.”

  Jennifer shrugged. “I’ve been through that before. You wouldn’t believe who I’ve been accused of sleeping with to get my coveted up close and personal coverage of various events.”

  “The reporters might think you slept with the mayor?” Evan said, his voice rising.

  “Sure. Or the governor. Or…” a warm flush crept over Jennifer’s cheeks “…you. Don’t worry about it, Evan. I can handle whatever remarks the press may fling at me.”

  “Not on my watch,” Evan said, his jaw tightening. “If any one of them hassles you, you let me know and I’ll straighten the
m out, believe me.”

  “And say what? That, yes, I slept with you, but it was the mayor who decreed that I should film the trial? That ought to make page one of the tabloids, if nothing else. Just stay out of it, Evan, and let me take care of it if it happens. You’re supposed to be concentrating on the trial, not on me and whatever slings and arrows the press might decide to shoot my way.”

  “It’s not that easy. I care about you, for you. I can’t stand the idea that you might be harassed because the mayor is calling the shots and…I want to protect you from that garbage, stand between you and harm’s way and… Ah, hell.” He tossed the pen to one side.

  Damn it, Jennifer, he thought fiercely. Don’t you get it? Can’t you see it? I’m falling in love with you.

  “That’s…that’s very sweet,” she said, blinking back sudden and very unwelcomed tears. “And while it isn’t necessary, I appreciate it, I really do.”

  And it just makes me realize that I’m falling deeper and deeper in love with you, Evan, she thought miserably, so stop saying such beautiful things to me please before I dissolve into a puddle of tears.

  Jennifer cleared her throat. “So, the witnesses you’re seeing in the next few days will sit in this chair where I am now and you’re there behind your desk and…I just want to be certain I have the details right. I might decide to shoot your office with no one in it, then explain what will transpire behind the closed door that would be shown next.”

  “Actually, no. I use the conference room for this type of thing. I don’t want to make my witnesses feel like they’re in the principal’s office with me looming over them from behind my desk.”

  Jennifer frowned. “What conference room?”

  “Follow me, ma’am,” Evan said, getting to his feet.

  They crossed the large room to a door on the far wall and entered an even bigger room that held a long table surrounded by chairs, a sofa and easy chair grouping, a small refrigerator and a multitude of filing cabinets and bookcases filled to overflowing. The table had a row of neatly stacked papers as well as several accordion files.