She looked up at him, green eyes glinting with pain. “I just hate feeling stupid,” she said quietly.
“I get it, Mags, believe me.” He looked down, fidgeting restlessly with his glass again. “I was dumped by a woman not too long ago. She said that she couldn’t see me anymore, she was getting married.”
He looked up at Maggie. “It shocked the shit out of me. Out of the blue, she was inviting me to her fucking wedding.” He shook his head. “I really miss her, too. I kept thinking, How did I not see that coming? Feeling stupid sucks. You know you’re not stupid, right?”
“I seriously question my judgement when it comes to men,” she replied, slurring slightly. She regarded him for a moment and raised her glass in a salute before draining it again.
He looked back down at his glass, not missing the meaning of her mocking toast. “How about we get you home?” he asked gently. Michael settled their tab and walked Maggie outside into the late afternoon.
Maggie pointed waveringly down the street. “Tha’s where I can catch the subway.”
Michael smiled. “No subway for you today.” He hailed a cab and gave explicit directions to the driver, along with a crisp hundred dollar bill. When he opened the door, Maggie reluctantly sank into the back seat.
“I can manage, really,” she said.
“I know you can. This is my thanks to you for coming in on a Saturday.” He closed the door and patted her shoulder through the open window. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I’m always okay,” she said sourly.
Chapter 36
“I feel like shit,” Michael groaned. It was halfway into the fifteen minute recess the judge had granted at his request. In the privacy of the courthouse’s lawyers’ lounge, Maggie touched the underside of her wrist to his forehead.
“You look like shit. Your eyes are all glassy and you’re warm,” she said, shaking her head. “You should be home in bed. Ask for a continuance.”
That morning he’d come to the office with a slight headache which he had ignored. Now his head seemed ready to explode and he felt both cold and hot at the same time. His body ached and he felt shaky.
“I don’t want to do that. This little shit has taken up enough of my time. Our time.” In the eighteen months that Maggie had been with Murphy, Rannigan, this was the third time Nathan Menzel, errant son of Councilman Robert Menzel, had been arrested for criminal stupidity. The last time, the charge had been trespassing and mischief at the home of a former girlfriend. This was his second DUI arrest and this time, Nathan had upped the ante with a bottle containing oxy discovered in the console of his luxury SUV.
“Well what do you want to do?” she asked. “You still need to finish up with Padgett.” Michael had just begun questioning Officer Charles Padgett, the arresting officer in Nathan’s latest stunt.
“Let’s just get this thing done,” he said. “The sooner we finish, the sooner I can go home and pass out.”
Maggie looked at him doubtfully. “Whatever you say.”
Back in the courtroom, Maggie sat in her place beside their young client at the defense table. She and Michael were a duo this time, Dan being on vacation. Michael approached Officer Padget who was seated on the witness stand. Maggie’s former mentor Rance Stockwell, the prosecutor in this case, sat at the table across the aisle.
“You’ve testified that you pulled over a car driven by the defendant, Nathan Menzel, on the night of May 3, is that correct?” Michael asked.
“Yeah,” the policeman answered.
Michael paused and cleared his throat, leaning shakily on the railing of the witness box, his head down. Looking up he murmured, “Just a moment, Your Honor.” Then he slowly made his way back to the defense table where he sank into his chair.
“I can’t do this, Mags. I can’t even stand.”
Maggie looked at him anxiously. “What are we going to do?”
“You take it,” he said. “You know this case inside and out.”
She stared at him, aghast. “I can’t! I’m not prepared. They’re expecting you.”
“What the fuck, Michael?” Nathan demanded. “I don’t want some chick holding my life in her hands.”
Michael’s eyes cut quickly to his client. “Shut up, Nathan.” He looked back at Maggie. “You’ve got this, Mags,” he said fervently. “I believe in you.”
Maggie was aware of anxious shifting in the seats directly behind the defense table but she refused to look at Nathan’s family.
“Mr. Rannigan?” the judge asked. “May we continue?”
Michael leaned on the table and pushed himself up. “Your Honor, I’m suddenly feeling unwell. My associate, Ms. Flynn, will be taking over for me.”
“Noted. Does the Prosecution have any objections?”
“None, Your Honor,” declared Rance.
“You may proceed, Ms. Flynn,” Judge
On the witness stand, Officer Padgett smirked. Maggie straightened herself, took a deep breath, and slowly approached the witness stand. “Officer Padgett, on the night of May 3 of this year, you pulled over a car driven by the defendant Nathan Menzel, is that correct?”
“Why yes, Ms. Flynn, I did. Just like I told your boss.” He snickered as did several others in the courtroom. Maggie turned toward the courtroom frantically seeking Michael’s eyes.
“It’s okay,” he mouthed, nodding firmly.
“And can you tell us exactly why you pulled him over?”
“Well, like I said,” speaking carefully, as though to a slow child, “I pulled over Mr. Menzel because he was speeding.”
“How did you know he was speeding?” she asked pointedly.
“I read the number on the radar gun,” he answered.
“Would this be the same radar gun that was shown to be inaccurate?”
Padgett sat up straighter. “Yeah, it’s inaccurate, but I just know to add about fifteen miles per hour to what the display shows.”
Maggie smiled a bit and turned toward the jury. “So you just know to add the extra fifteen. Are you sure it’s fifteen? Could it be twenty? Could it be five? How do you know you don’t need to subtract?”
“Well, I just always...” Padgett began.
“Objection, Your Honor,” Rance said, not bothering to stand.
“Sustained. Move on, Ms. Flynn.”
Maggie picked up a piece of paper from the table in front of Michael. He watched her intently, a hint of a satisfied smile playing on his lips. “Officer Padgett, do you recall January 15 of this year?”
Padgett’s smirk was back. “I don’t know Ms. Flynn, that was a long time ago. Could be I had a date that night.” He snickered again.
Maggie glanced up at the Judge. “Officer Padgett, you will answer the questions of counsel,” the judge admonished.
Padgett sat up and crossed his arms. “Like I said, counselor, I don’t know.”
Maggie gave him a thin smile and held up the paper. “I can help you out. On January 15, you received disciplinary action for violating the civil rights of one Mr. Jose Santos. You spent a week off unpaid. Do you recall that now?” The courtroom was still.
“I guess,” he reluctantly answered.
“How about the February before that?” She held up the list again. “Or the previous September, or the March before that?”
Maggie walked toward the jury box, smiling at them in a friendly way. “I’m new at this. Just graduated with my law degree less than two years ago. I’ve never had disciplinary action taken against me.” She glanced back at Padgett. “But I imagine if I ever did, I’d remember the date. I imagine it would stand out in my mind,” shrugging, “unless, of course, it happened so often I just couldn’t keep up.”
Rance stood behind the prosecutor’s table. “Objection, Your Honor. Counsel isn’t allowing the witness to answer.”
“Sustained. You’ve made your point, Ms. Flynn. Ask a question or excuse the witness.”
Glancing back at the defense table where Michael watched her with a
proud sparkle in his eyes, Maggie returned to the witness. “Can you irrefutably prove that on the night of May 3, you had adequate probable cause to pull over the defendant, Nathan Menzel and were therefore constitutionally entitled to search his car?”
Padgett leaned forward red-faced, veins bulging in his neck. “I can assure you that on May 3, or any other day, I did my job,” he snarled.
“Officer Padgett, you have a history of skirting procedure to do your job.” Maggie waved the document in her hand. “I suggest that you pulled over Mr. Menzel without probable cause and proceeded to violate his constitutional rights by subjecting him to illegal search and seizure. Anything you may or may not have found after that is inadmissible. It’s like it never happened.”
“Objection!” Rance shouted.
“Withdrawn,” Maggie said blithely.
* * *
Following the verdict, Rance stepped across the aisle, offering his hand to Maggie. “Nice job, rookie,” he smiled. “You kicked my ass today.”
Maggie blushed. “I don’t know. Your witness was shady, that’s all.”
“Any time you get tired of working for the bad guys, let me know,” he said. To Michael, “I may poach her from you yet.”
Michael and Maggie stepped out into the crisp fall day. Councilman Menzel and Nathan joined them at the top of the courthouse steps. A throng of media surrounded them immediately.
“Ms. Flynn, do you feel justice was served today?” asked a reporter. Maggie looked to Michael uncertainly. He nodded encouragingly.
“Law enforcement is a dangerous and often thankless job. It’s their duty to keep us all safe. That being said, everyone in this country is entitled to basic civil rights which can’t be circumvented in the name of protecting the public. Today’s decision is a reminder that procedure must always be followed.”
“Okay, Mags,” Michael said in her ear, “get me in a cab before I fall down.”
Chapter 37
When they reached his apartment, Michael sank onto the living room couch, resting his head on an overstuffed throw pillow and automatically clicking on television sports. Maggie stood uncertainly. Now that he’d made it home, she could probably leave him to himself. He’d refused to go to an urgent care doctor, instead calling his own physician, who made house calls.
“Would you like a blanket while you’re waiting, Michael?” she asked him.
“That’d be great, Mags,” he said. “There’s a linen closet down the hall past my bedroom.” He pointed vaguely without sitting up.
Maggie looked to her left. She’d seen a hallway when they first entered the apartment. She moved in that direction, passing a huge bedroom, and found the linen closet a bit further down the hall. Choosing a white cotton blanket from the shelf, she couldn’t resist peeking in the other rooms before returning to the living room. She counted three large bedrooms, each with its own ensuite bathroom.
Curious, she scanned the master bedroom again on her way back, feeling the color rise in her cheeks as she considered all the times she’d imagined being with him there.
She’d just covered him with the blanket when there was a knock at the door. “That’ll be Dr. Ghosh,” Michael muttered. Maggie hurried to let him in.
The doctor was a charming man of Indian descent in his mid-fifties. He checked Michael’s vitals and asked a few questions. “I’m afraid you have a bad case of influenza,” Dr. Ghosh told him. “I’ll call in some scripts for you, but what you need most is rest. And you must take in fluids.”
The doctor turned to Maggie. “I’m afraid, my dear, that you have been exposed to this virus. You may soon get sick yourself.”
“I had my flu shot a few weeks ago,” Maggie offered. “Won’t that help?”
The doctor patted her hand. “It will help tremendously. If only I could convince all my patients,” he gave Michael a meaningful look, “to take their flu vaccine every year.”
Maggie walked the doctor to the door. He gave her some patient information for Michael. “Also, I’ve requested that the pharmacy deliver the medication as soon as possible.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Maggie said as the man left. She returned to Michael on the couch. His eyes were closed and she thought he was sleeping.
As she turned to gather her purse and jacket, he spoke. “Mags, can you please wait for the pharmacy? I can’t get up to answer the door.”
Maggie set down her things again. “Sure, Michael, I can wait. Don’t you want to go to bed? You can’t be comfortable on the couch.”
“I feel like absolute shit,” he groaned. “It wouldn’t matter where I was.”
“At least let me get you some juice or something,” she said. “You’re supposed to get plenty of fluids.” She went through the dining room to the kitchen and searched the fridge for some kind of juice, finding cranberry-pomegranate. She popped a few ice cubes into a glass and poured the juice, stopping to grab a straw from a drawer.
Returning to the living room the other way, she discovered a fourth bedroom behind the kitchen, presumably for a live-in housekeeper.
Michael pushed himself up with a groan and took the glass from Maggie, sipping appreciatively. Maggie sat at an angle from him on the huge sectional. “This is a beautiful apartment, Michael,” she said. “I mean, it’s not my style, all the steel and glass and everything, but still.”
She looked past the television mounted on the wall and for the first time realized that there was a large glass room just beyond the living room. It jutted out onto a huge private terrace bordered by plants. “Holy cow, is that a sun room?” she asked.
He feebly waved his hand. “Go on out and take a look.”
Maggie walked out into the glass structure just off the living room. It must have been ten feet wide and twenty-five feet long. The room was outfitted with sleek modern furniture that complimented the interior décor and it was accented by a variety of potted plants.
She pushed open a door and walked out onto the terrace that was at least as wide as the sun room and even longer. A built-in concrete planter filled with all sorts of shrubs and small trees surrounded the perimeter of the terrace. Looking beyond the planter she was treated to an incredible view of the city.
She hurriedly returned to the living room, fearful of missing the knock at the door. “It’s absolutely amazing,” she told him as she sat down again. “I’m now feeling sheepish about the couple of times you’ve been to my place.”
Michael rolled his eyes. “Why? I like your place. It’s perfect for you.”
Maggie watched him for a moment. “I have to ask. Why, as a single guy, do you have four bedrooms?”
He smiled slightly. “You were out there, right?” He hooked a thumb toward the terrace. “That’s why. This unit has the best views in the whole building.”
His attention was diverted to the baseball game on the television. “Aw, dammit!” he muttered.
Maggie heard a soft knock at the door. She opened it to find a courier holding a bag from the pharmacy. “Delivery for a Michael Rannigan,” he said.
“Thanks, I’ll sign for it,” she said.
“Mags,” Michael called from inside.
Maggie leaned so she could see him on the couch. He held up some cash. “Excuse me a moment,” she said to the delivery guy. Michael handed her a twenty.
“Seriously?” she asked him. He waved her toward the door and went back to his ball game. Maggie tipped the guy and closed the door behind him, returning to the living room with Michael’s medicine.
She opened the bag and read the information. “Here, you should take these now,” she said, handing him two pills. He swallowed them with the last of the juice she’d given him.
“I just want to crawl into bed,” he said, slowly standing and dragging the blanket with him. She followed him to his bedroom and turned her back when he dropped his pants and shirt on the floor before sliding under the covers of the huge bed.
Tiptoeing, Maggie picked up his clothes and lay them over a ch
air near the window. She adjusted the covers and leaned over, planting a light kiss on his temple. “Sleep well,” she said quietly. “Feel better soon.”
When she reached his door, she stopped, unable to resist. “You know, you really should get your flu shot every year. You could have avoided this whole thing.”
“Thanks, Mom,” he quipped, groaning.
She sighed. “Good night, Michael. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”
“Mags,” he called weakly. She turned around. “Thanks.”
Chapter 38
Maggie leaned back in her chair and smiled thoughtfully at the collection of photos that had gathered over the years on the credenza behind her desk.
There was one of Ben and Nate at the housewarming of their new apartment. Who would have thought that nearly five years later they’d still be together?
She looked at a photo of herself and Des in pale green bridesmaid dresses at Casey’s wedding. Now Casey and John had a toddler and another baby on the way. Behind that picture was one of Des and Jacob with their son Eli, who was about three now.
Then there were photos of Michael. Some were from office functions, others more casual, including a few from Doc’s. Over the years Michael had made a tradition of stopping by the Orphans and Misfits Christmas at her place before jetting off to whatever fabulous tropical destination he’d chosen for that year. Maggie’s gaze fell on a handful of photos featuring the Christmas crowd wearing those silly paper crowns that come out of party poppers.
She picked up her favorite picture of herself and Michael. They were dancing together and were both laughing about something. It had been taken at a charity event years before and had actually appeared in an issue of Vanity Fair. Michael had ordered a print and given it to her as a gift once. She smiled fondly. How was it that time passed so quickly?
The firm had changed here and there. Dan had moved on to start his own firm in Brooklyn. Nate was brought up from downstairs to work with Stan. For the last few years, Maggie had accompanied Michael to the job fair at NYU where she helped him interview new candidates. Last year, they’d hired Amy Tranh. She was a bright and eager young lawyer who was just now beginning to accompany them to court on occasion.
Rannigan's Redemption: Complete Collection Page 17
