₦airaland Forum

Lori spends the afternoon at home, catching up on laundry and housework, two things that have languished while she concentrated on the trial.

"I came straight up here and took a long, hot bubble bath." Scrubbing her bathtub, she remembers saying this to Rob on Sunday. Why on earth did I tell him that? Obviously I wasn't thinking. Obviously it put images in his head. I just can't think straight around him sometimes.

She leans back and turns the water on, rinsing the cleanser down the drain, swishing the water with her hand to get it all rinsed.

I wonder what he's doin' right now? Surely not scrubbin' his bathtub. She chuckles to herself as the image of Rob scrubbing anything crosses her mind's eye.

Lori stands and wipes her hands on the apron she is wearing. She looks at her reflection in the mirror, her face slightly sweaty from working, her hair held back in a kerchief to keep it out of her way. I look like someone's maid, she thinks, frowning at herself. I am also done cleaning. Tired.

She turns the faucet on in the sink and leans forward, splashing cool water on her face. She dries her face, pulls the scarf from her head, and re-secures the ponytail in back, choosing to leave it in for the time being. As she reaches for the ties of her apron, she hears a knock at her door.

"Lori? You in?"

"Yes, Elliot what do you want?" she calls back.

"I brought home some pork chops and greens from the market that are just beggin' for some love from my big sister."

Lori sighs and leaves her apron on, walking to the door.

" They are begging, or you?" She open the door and gives him the look she learned from her mama.

"Okay, me. Cook us supper?"

It'll keep my mind off of other things, she decides. Things I need to stop thinkin' about.

After dinner, Elliot announces that he's going to meet Latoya at Gareth's and actually asks if Lori wants to come along.

"No, I don't think so," she says. Rob might be there, a nagging voice inside mentions. "I'm still dead tired; I think I'm going to go upstairs and look at the television."

As Elliot drives off in his truck, Lori heads upstairs and pulls her apron off finally, depositing it in the hamper. She goes into her bedroom, intending to just put her pajamas on and make an early evening of it when she glances out her bedroom window and sees what she thinks is a familiar figure outside. Is that Rob? What is he doin' here?

Wait… why is he walkin' away?

She watches him drop into the seat of his car, but he doesn't start the engine. He sits. Then he gets out again. He starts walking back to the house, gets halfway there, and stops.

Suddenly wide awake, Lori holds her breath and hides behind the drapes, not sure if she wants him to see her peeking.

He turns around and goes back to his car again, and she slumps against the wall.

It hurts, she realizes. This is what it feels like when your heart breaks.

She hears his car start and, before she can think, she grabs the keys to the Impala and runs down the stairs and out the door.

I'm gonna get arrested for being in this neighborhood, she thinks as she walks slowly up to the door of his building. She scans the list of buttons, finding the one with R. Carter next to it and pressing it.

"Hello?"

She almost loses her nerve. "…Rob?"

"Loretta?"

"Yes… can I—"

A crass buzzing sound interrupts her before she can even ask, and she pulls the door open and enters the building, climbing the stairs to the second floor.

She knocks quietly on the door and he opens it immediately. She steps inside without a word.

"Loretta, I…"

"I followed you here," she says. "I saw you. Out the window."

"I…"

The look on his face tears at Lori's heart. She wouldn't have thought that a single person could feel so many emotions at once. My face probably looks similar, she realizes.

"I'm scared, Loretta," he finally says. "Now that the trial's over… I'm scared that I'll never see you again. The thought of not getting to see you every day, not getting to spend time with you anymore, just…"

They are standing just inside his door, staring at each other, both too afraid to move, too afraid to speak their true feelings.

"I know," she whispers.

"You do?"

She nods, blinking back tears that she can't explain.

"I…" he trails off a moment, trying to summon his courage. "Would you like to sit?" he blurts.

"Yes, thank you," she says, exhaling heavily. He ushers her to a leather sofa, sitting beside her.

"Loretta," he starts again, his fingers drumming nervously on his knees, "I think… I think I'm in love with you."

Lori gasps. Her heart races. She feels warm all over. Then he takes her hand softly in his and she feels slightly faint.

"No… I know I'm in love with you. I've never met anyone like you. You've turned my world on its head, and I've… I've never been happier than I am when I'm with you."

"Rob, I…"

"If you tell me you don't feel the same, I will never bother you again," he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Rob, if I didn't feel the same I wouldn't have followed you across town," she says.

"Oh," he says dumbly, opening his eyes, which are suddenly lit with some mysterious inner flame that Lori can feel burning in her belly.

She closes her eyes. "I do love you, Rob," she admits. "I've loved you for probably longer than I'd be willing to admit."

He smiles then, and exhales the breath that she didn't know he was holding.

"So what now?" she asks, her heart dropping again as she lets reality creep in.

"Well," Rob says, studying her slender hand clasped in his, noting how small it looks compared to his own. He strokes the soft brown skin on the back of her hand with his thumb once, and continues. "Long term, I'm not sure yet. But right now… I'd really like to kiss you."

"Really, Lori? You want to do this? I mean, thank you, but don't you need it?" The principal of Lori's school is sitting at his desk, staring at the check in his hands.

"Not really," Lori shrugs. "Elliot and I paid off the mortgage on our house first, and then we split the rest of the settlement."

"This isn't all of your share, is it?" he asks, setting the check on his desk, swiping his hand up over his bald brown head, a nervous gesture he gets when he's agitated. Probably why he's bald. He rubbed all his hair off.

"I kept a little for myself," she tells him. Not that it's any of your business. "But I want this school to have something. Buy some new books for the children. Replace those broken swings in the playground. I just hate it that everything we have is secondhand just because we're a colored school."

"You're insisting?"

"I am. Make sure it gets used on things for the children, Earl. Promise me."

"I promise, Lori. For the children. Thank you.

And congratulations on winning your case."

Lori stands. "Technically, we settled. But I reckon that's still a win. Plus a no-good child rapist got put where he belongs, so more's the better."

"What?" Earl asks.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Earl, didn't you read the papers this mornin'? It was on the front page."

"Oh…" he leans over, reaching for a newspaper on the windowsill behind him. "Oh. Oh. "

"Trial took an unexpected turn," Lori chuckles. Unexpected for Alined, that is. "Have a good one, Earl."

"Hmm?" the principal is absorbed in the article now. "Oh, yes, you too, Lori."

Tuesday morning, Rob finishes up his paperwork from the trial. He left the billing business to Liam, unable to face extracting money from his Loretta. It feels like theft.

He has trouble keeping his mind on his work, his brain drifting between thoughts of calling his uncle and the dream he had last night.

I soar above the city, one arm outstretched, the other holding Loretta to my side. My Lois Lane.

My red cape flaps in the wind behind us as we ascend to the stars, and I steer north, leaving Memphis behind us.

"Rob?" Shawn pokes his head in the door, snapping Rob out of his Superman dream memory.

"Yeah? Oh, hey, Pop."

"Congratulations. You did us proud. You did yourself proud, Son."

"Thanks, Dad. Luck was on our side, though.

Man was a grade-A sleaze."

"Well, he's going to be put away for probably the rest of his life now, because of your efforts.

Well done."

"Thanks," Rob says again.


"So would you care to explain to me why it looks like someone just shot your dog, then?"

Shawn sits.

"What? Oh. Just a bit tired, I guess. Adrenaline from the trial has worn off," Rob says. Marcus was right. I have to stop being so obvious.

"So, nothing to do with a pretty colored girl whom you no longer have an excuse to see regularly?" Shawn pries.

"Maybe a little," Rob admits.

"Or a lot," Shawn corrects. "Rob, it's for the best. It can't happen, not here. I'm sorry you're upset, but until the law changes, that's how it is. And unfortunately, we don't know when that law will change. If it ever will. Try to put your feelings aside, Rob. It's just too dangerous for her."

"I know," Rob says with a sigh. "Thanks, Dad.

I'm glad I was able to show you that I'm capable of more than handling traffic violations."

"Oh, I knew that all along, Rob. But I also know that you never like having anything just handed to you," Shawn says, chuckling. He stands. "All right. I'll let you finish your work there. Have lunch with me?"

"I have plans already," Rob lies. "Rain check?"

"Okay," Shawn nods, and turns to leave.

"Oh, hey, Pop?"

"Yes?"

"I'm supposed to tell you that… Bob Carlson says hello."

Shawn just snorts a laugh, obviously in on the same secret joke that the FBI agent was smirking about, and leaves.

The door closes, and Rob counts to ten, just to make sure his father is gone. Then he flips through the Rolodex on his desk and finds the number he is looking for.

A minute later, a friendly voice answers the phone. "Carter Law Offices, this is Helen, may I help you?"

"Helen, Robert Carter. How are you?"

"Mr. Carter! How nice to hear from you. I'm very good, how are things down south?"

"Probably warmer than they are in Milwaukee," he jokes.

"Probably? Try definitely."

Rob chuckles. "Is George available?"

"Yes, he's in. I'll transfer you. Take care," she says.

"Thanks, you too."

A moment later Rob hears his uncle's voice.

"George Carter."

"Uncle George?"

"Rob! This is a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you, my boy?"

"Well, I'm actually wondering if you can help me with something," Rob says, tapping his pen on his desktop nervously.

"Anything for my favorite nephew," Gaius says indulgently.

"I'm going to bypass the fact that I'm your only nephew," Rob says. "But I possibly need a favor. Quite a large one. Maybe."

i know i have wronged you guys and am deeply sorry. my phone is a little bit spoilt and the money to repair is much so saving much to buy my dream phone till then sha which would be anytime soon. pleases guys am deeply sorry. N.B am preparing for an online competition would tell you guys about it later.queenitee amenaghwon evajael stephengee12 and homorbolanle


12

Much later, the bar is mostly empty. Marcus
comes over to sit beside an Rob who has
pretty much been moping on and off since
Lori left.


"She's not dead, Rob," Marcus says, sitting
down next to him.


"May as well be. I'll probably never see her
again."


"You don't know that. I saw you walk her out
before."


"Yeah."


"Did you kiss her?"


"She let me hug her. For a few seconds. I think
I may have kissed the top of her head."


"You think? You don't know?"


"Pretty sure I did."


"Rob, listen," Marcus says, leaning back in his
chair. "You're clearly in love with her."


"Shh…" Rob shushes him.


"Why? Who's left here? Gareth? Got news for
you, mate, he already knows."


"You told?"


"Didn't have to. He's smarter than he looks.


Anyway, you want to be with her?"


"Yes."


"Then go somewhere where you can be
together. Leave. Go north. It's legal there,
right?"


"Leave? I've lived here all my life, Marcus. So has
Loretta." Rob sounds unsure, but he looks
as though he is thinking it over.


"Rob, do you love Lori?"


"Yes."


"You can't be together here. I mean, look at my
mum and me. She didn't like how things were
where we lived, so we left. Easy."


"It's not easy, Marcus."


"Yes, it is, Rob."


"Where would I go?"


"Don't you have family up north? A cousin or
something in… Minnesota?" Marcus asks,
gesturing vaguely.


"Uncle George, in Milwaukee. That's Wisconsin."


"He's a lawyer as well, I assume?"


"Of course."


"Call him. I'd be willing to bet he'll have a place
for you at the northern branch of Carter
Law."


"What about Loretta?"


"Surely there are schools in Milwaukee, Rob."


"But…"


"What now?"


"What if she says no?"


"Then she says no. But you won't know unless
you ask."

wow am finally here. its a long long ride.

Claire: she is too gullible. No modern day woman would behave like this with all that is going on in the world. I know i can't predict the story but please pamelB don't make her to suffer much or make her look too stupid.

The society is the one encouraging domestic violence and men cheating on women. A woman is not suppose to continue living with a cheating husband cos she would suffer the repercussions. If your hubby raise his hands on you once my sis don't deceive yourself he would kill you a day. women should flee or report to authority when violated in marriage.

"Rob, it's her party, she'll be here," Marcus mutters in Rob's ear as he walks past. Rob keeps glancing at the door.

"She said she was coming, but what if she changes her mind?" Rob asks.

"You have got it bad," Marcus comments. "She'll be here." He leans in closer. "And try to be a little less obvious, Rob. Remember she's the one that would be punished if you're found out."

Rob slumps. "I know. It's hard, though. I told her that. I don't even realize I'm doin' it, most of the time."

"I just don't want to see either of you hurt or in trouble with the law, mate. And she just walked in with Elliot and Latoya."

"Latoya?" Rob turns.

"Elliot's new ladyfriend. They've been talkin' to each other for a little while now, looks like he finally decided to introduce her to Lori."

"Ah. Loretta," he says, smiling at her as she approaches.

"See? Like that. You could light up a bloody room right now." He looks at Lori now. "Hi, Lori."

"Hey, Marcus. Hello, Rob," she says.

"I gotta go play," Marcus says, waving. "She's just as bad," he mumbles to himself as he wanders away.

"Hey Elliot," Rob says.

"Rob," Elliot nods. "This is my girl, Latoya," he introduces the young lady at his side. She is tall, nearly as tall as Elliot.

"Nice to meet you, Latoya," Rob offers his hand.

After a moment, she takes it, shaking it quickly.

"Hello," she says. "Sorry, I'm not used to pretty white men wantin' to shake my hand."

"Quite all right," Rob says. "I'm a little unusual."

"I'll say," Gareth says, setting a tall glass of lemonade on the bar for Lori and a bottle of Budweiser for Elliot. "Toya, what would you like, darlin'?"

"I'll have one o' them bottles," she says, nodding towards Elliot's beer.

Gareth nabs Elliot's bottle before Elliot can get it and passes it to her, setting a glass beside it as well. "Here you are. Elliot, ladies first, you know that." He returns a moment later with another bottle for him.

"Let's get a table," Rob says, hopping down from his barstool.

Percy arrives a short time later, followed closely by Duncan and his wife, Mary. Lori hugs them both warmly, and Mary immediately starts crying.

"Now, Mary, don't you cry, or I'll start," Lori says, patting her hand.

"Thank you so much, Lori," Mary says.

"I didn't do nothin', Mary. It's me that should be thankin' Duncan." With that, she leans over and kisses Duncan on the cheek. "Thank you, Duncan. I know you'll be a great manager."

"Thanks, Lori. You're Daddy's smilin' down on you today."

Ezra stops in briefly, but doesn't stay long.

Rob makes sure that he has the psychiatrist's phone number and reminds him to call right away on Monday. Duncan even offers to let him use the warehouse office phone to call.

"If that's all right with you, Boss," he looks at Percy.

"Perfectly fine. We want Ezra better, right?" Percy answers.

They listen to Marcus, Aaron, and Fred play.

Gareth brings out tray after tray of food. Some people dance. Percy taps his fingers on the table in time to the music.

"Is it hard? Not havin' part of a leg?" Lori asks him.

"I'm used to it now," he shrugs.

"Wishin' you could dance, though?"

He laughs. "I couldn't much dance with two whole legs. But I like music."

Rob has been chatting with everyone, but always keeping one eye on Lori. He scoots his chair back over to their table. "Bet you can hop pretty good," he says, grinning.

"Rob!" Lori gasps, shocked.

Percy laughs though. "I am a world-champion hopper," he says. "It's all right, Lori, I honestly wish more people would ask questions and even make jokes like Rob just did. Beats getting stared at. I get that enough, being my size."

"I suppose you have a point. I suppose you get people judgin' you based on your looks, same as we do."

"Yeah. Everyone always assumes I'm stupid or violent."

"And you're neither of those," Rob adds.

"Thank you. Like I said, I like music. Can't sing, can't play an instrument, but I like it. And I am bound and determined to learn how to make a proper southern biscuit if it kills me," he laughs.

"Well, I can help you out with that," Lori says.

"I'll share my granny's recipe with you, if you ask real nice," she leans in and says in a conspiratorial whisper.

"What are y'all whisperin' about?" Elliot asks, coming over with Latoya on his arm.

"Biscuits," Lori declares.

"Of course," Elliot shrugs. "Lori," he pokes his sister on the shoulder, "you should go sing."

"What?" Lori asks.

"Sing?" Rob asks.

"Lori can sho'nuff sing," Elliot says.

"You've had too many beers already, Elliot," Lori shrugs him off.

"I'd love to hear you sing," Rob says quietly, smiling at her.

"See? Even Mr. Charlie wants to hear you sing!" Elyan exclaims.

"Elliot!" Both Lori and Latoya yell now, but Rob can only laugh.

"Please?" Elliot asks. "For Daddy?"

"Please?" Rob asks quietly. "For me?"

"Well, shoot, now you done trapped me," Lori sighs and gets up. "Don't start throwin' fruit, now," she threatens before she walks away from them, up to the corner that acts as a stage.

"Hey, Lori," Marcus says, looking up briefly from the piano, not missing a note.

"I'm supposed to come sing with y'all," she says. She waves at Aaron and Fred, who both nod.

"Next song. Think about what you want to sing."

"I only know church songs," she says, biting her lip.

"We can work with that," Marcus says.

"Marcus's got some ears on him, and I ain't just talkin' 'bout they size," Fred says.

Marcus laughs, and Lori hides her smile, looking away from him.

"Okay," Marcus declares when the song finishes.

"What do you have for me?"

"Do you know 'Ain't-a That Good News?'"

"I do," Aaron and Fred both answer.

"Well I know y'all know it," Lori says, her hands on her hips. "We just sang it yesterday, that's why it's fresh in my mind."

"Start singin', Lori, I'll catch on. Gospel?"


"O' course," she says. Then she sighs and turns toward the rest of the bar. They're all looking.

Just pretend it's a really dirty church.

"Waitin', Lori…" Aaron cajoles from behind her.

"Hush, you!" she turns and waves her hand at him. When she looks back, her eyes meet Rob's for a moment, and his expectant look both scares her and gives her confidence. All right, Superman, here goes.

"I got a crown up in-a that kingdom, ain't-a that good news…" she starts singing, slowly at first.

Fred joins in first, then Aaron with a light drum beat. After the first verse is half done, Marcus's got it and he joins in.

"Daddy used to say that Lori's singin' could make the birds hang they heads in shame," Elliot says to Rob.

Rob just nods in agreement, watching her sing. Don't be so obvious. Marcus's advice comes back to him. "She has a very good voice, yes," he finally says. She sounds like an angel.

She finishes, and everyone applauds and cheers loudly.

"More!" Elliot shouts.

Lori rolls her eyes at her brother and starts to go back to her seat. "Get back here, Lori," Marcus grabs her arm, grinning at her. "You heard your brother, he wants one more."

"Fine," she sighs. "I thought of another one.

'You Belong to Me' work for you?"

"Ooo, a newer one," Marcus says, cracking his knuckles theatrically, then launches into an introduction.

I thought of another one looking at Rob, Lori realizes. She closes her eyes a moment to try and clear her head. I hope I can remember the words.

"See the pyramids along the Nile. Watch the sunrise from a tropic isle. Just remember, darling, all the while You belong to me…"

She opens her eyes and braves a look at Rob.

Not a good idea, she realizes, and quickly drops her eyes and concentrates on singing instead.

"You have a beautiful voice, Loretta," Rob says when she finally returns. He is alone at the table for the moment.

"Thank you," she says, reaching for her lemonade.

"It goes with the rest—"

"Don't."

"Right."

"It's getting late," she says. "I'd like to go to work tomorrow, but I have too much to do now."

"Got a big check to deposit," Rob says.

"And one to write. I have to pay you still."

"You'll get a bill later, you don't have to pay right now," Rob says, waving his hand dismissively. "If it was up to me I still wouldn't charge you, but I think Pop might frown on that."

"So would I," she says. "Thank you, Rob." She puts her hand on his, just briefly, and moves to stand. She looks around for Elliot. "Where is he? Ah. Elliot!"

He comes over. "What?"

"I'm ready to go home."

"I ain't."

"Well, take me home and then you can come back." She peers at him. "On second thought, give me the car keys. You ain't fit to drive."

"How'm I gon' get home?" he asks.

"You can walk. Keys." Lori holds out her hand and Elliot fishes into his pocket and hands them to her. "Toya, keep an eye on him," she tells Latoya.

"I will. Goodnight, Lori," Latoya says.

Lori says her goodbyes around, and when she gets to the door, Rob is waiting for her.

"Rob…"

"I'm just going to walk you to your car," he says.

"All right."

He opens the door for her and they walk out into the cool October night, walking silently until they reach the large green Impala.

"Thank you again, Rob, for everything," she says. Why is my heart pounding like this? I should be happy because we won, but I feel so forlorn. Now that I have no reason to, I may never see him again.

"It was a pleasure. You are very welcome, Loretta." He pauses a moment. "I told you that this is what I do."

"Yes, Superman, you did."

Rob's arms remember the shape of her, how she felt wrapped in his embrace. They long to reach out for her and pull her against him.

"Goodnight, Loretta. It really was a pleasure," Rob finally says.

Lori sees his fingers twitching at his sides.

She looks up and down the street. A car drives past, but it turns the corner, and they are left alone. She bites her lower lip and takes a step closer to him. One hug. That's all. As she reaches out with one hand, he finally breaks and pulls her into his arms, sighing heavily.

Lori hugs him back this time, her hands on his broad back. She thinks she feels him kiss the top of her head, but she's not sure.

"Okay," she says, gently stepping back now.

"Goodnight," she says and then hurries around to the driver's side of the car, gets in, and drives away while he stands there, watching her go.

Rob, Liam, Lori, Elliot, Marcus, and Gareth are walking back into the courthouse after grabbing a quick bite to eat at Gareth's – the only place that all of them could dine together – and they are intercepted by Alfred Boudreaux.

"Winters. Carter. A word, please?" He motions to a small conference room.

"Sure," Liam nods.

"Miss Thompson also, please."

Rob ushers Lori inside. Elliot looks on, a little concerned, a little forlorn.

"I'd like Elliot to come in, too," she says.

"Of course," Rob says.

"We'll just sit out here, then," Marcus calls, smirking.

"You do that," Rob answers.

They all sit at a long mahogany table and stare at Alfred until he speaks.

"My client would like to settle," he declares.

Liam passes Rob two dollars.

"What was that?"

"I won the bet," Rob says. "I knew he'd cave.

Or you. Liam thought he'd fight to the bitter end."

"Well, truth be told, Alined doesn't exactly want to settle. But I'm not really giving him a choice."

Rob looks at Lori, who looks a bit overwhelmed, squeezing her brother's hand.

"One moment," Rob says to Alfred. He bends and reaches into his briefcase and withdraws a folder. He opens it and shows the contents to Loretta and Elliot, who read it carefully.

Lori nods and hands it back to Rob.

"We have conditions," Rob passes the folder to Alfred.

Alfred takes the folder. "Of course."

"Rob, what…?" Liam whispers.

"I told you I was confident he would settle after we exposed him."

Alfred reads the list Rob has presented him. "… all of it?" he finally exclaims. " Everything? "

"Well, he ain't gonna be needin' that money where he's goin'," Rob says, leaning back in his chair. "And that includes the Swiss account that he doesn't think we know about."

"So we're to liquidate all of his accounts and split the funds between the ten people on those accident reports who were injured as a result of faulty machinery, plus Ezra Johnson," he sighs.

"And a larger portion for Miss Thompson and her brother," Rob adds, pointing to a line on the sheet.

"Rob…"

"Shh," he shushes her gently.

"Percy Andersen? You sure about that?" he asks, tapping the next point.

"Yes. Duncan Matthews will be promoted to warehouse manager then. And Mr. Aredian has offered to recommend a couple of maintenance men to be brought on. As permanent employees."

"Mr. Aredian isn't interested himself?" Lori asks.

"Oh good Lord, no," Rob chuckles. "That would not work out well for anyone involved.

He's much too independent."

"Not to mention scary as hell," Elliot chimes in.

"That, too. Liam, would you check to see if Percy's outside, please?"

Liam nods and goes to the door. He opens it and pokes his head out. A moment later he returns, Percy in tow.

"You wished to see me?"

"Yes. Alined wants to settle," Rob says.

"Okay…?" Percy sits at the table.

"One of the conditions we have for the settlement concerns you, Percy."

His brow furrows a moment. "It does?"

"We'd like you to take ownership of Alined Paper. You can, of course, change the name to whatever you'd like," Rob says. He glances at Alfred, who is still perusing the sheet Rob gave him, making notes on it now.

"Me? But I don't know…"

"It's not anything you can't handle, Percy.

We've seen your records, both from school and from the Army. You say you're built for manual labor, but you've undersold your intelligence."

Alfred looks at him, raising his eyebrows.

"I'd be willin' to bet he's smarter than his dumb- ass uncle," Alfred mutters. "Oh, beg pardon, miss."

Lori giggles behind her hand while the others stare at Alfred, shocked that he'd say such a thing about his longtime client.

Of course, he's probably anxious to wash his hands of him as soon as possible, Rob realizes.

"But I don't know anything about running a business," Percy says.

Liam hands him a card. "I actually specialize in business law," he says. "I'll help you out. It'll be real easy, I promise."

Percy takes the card. "You are my new best friend, then," he chuckles. "Thank you."

Alfred turns to the second page of Rob's file.

"Today? You want all these accounts liquidated and dispersed today? "

"Shouldn't be a problem," Rob says. "It's only… 1:15. Liam will take you back to the office and you can meet with Geoffrey and he'll get everything sorted. He's got everything ready for you."

"Well, you sure got your ducks all nice and lined up, don't you, Carter?" Alfred says, actually smiling a little.

"Loretta don't call me 'Superman' for nothin', you know." Rob leans confidently back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. Alfred rolls his eyes. So does Lori.

"All right, the sooner this is over with, the sooner I can get on the golf course," Alfred says, standing. "I'll meet you back here in ten minutes, Winters. I have to go bid farewell to Mr. Herman Delaine. Let him know that he is now the property of those two nice men from the FBI."

After he leaves, Lori turns to Elliot. "Rob, we don't need that much money!"

"Shush, Lori," Elliot tries, and she waves him off.

"We can have the same amount as all them other families. Split it evenly between all of us."

"Loretta, it's standard settlement protocol.

Those others were just injured. Your father was killed. Death always warrants a bigger reward than injury."

"He's right, Lori," Liam adds. "Just how it is."

"We could use the money, Lori. And the others will still be gettin' plenty, right?" Elliot asks, looking back and forth between Liam and Rob.

"Life-changing money, most likely," Rob confirms. "Alined had stashes of cash squirreled away all over the place, and we found all of it.

Geoffrey must have magic powers."

"And the company funds will be untouched, so the transition will be smooth," Liam tells Percy.

Percy nods, still apparently in shocked. "Who's going to be warehouse manager now?" he asks.

"Duncan will," Lori tells him. She reaches across the table and places her hand over his.

"Percy, you'll be great. Daddy always spoke well of you. Said how smart you were, how you actually cared about what was goin' on there.

That's the kind of person you want to be the big boss."

"Thank you, Lori. Your father always spoke well of you, too. Both of you," he says, nodding at Elliot now. "You need a job, Elliot?" he asks suddenly.

"Nah, I'm a carpenter, man, I don't need to be workin' in no factory," Elliot chuckles.

"Thought I'd offer, since I'm suddenly now in charge of a company," Percy says, smiling finally. "What do you think of 'Andersen Paper?'"

he asks.

"I like it," Lori says, grinning back at him. "So what happens now?" she asks.

"Now," Liam stands, "I'm going to wait for Mr. Alfred Boudreaux and escort his chunky backside back to Carter Law. Y'all can meet me back there later and I'll start givin' out checks."

"And then, tonight, we all meet up at Gareth's and celebrate, all proper-like," Rob says, standing as well. The rest follow suit and file out of the room into the hallway.

"So?" Marcus leaps on them immediately. "I've been dying out here."

"He has. Irish boy could not sit still," Gareth confirms.

"Settling, as I predicted," Rob says smugly.

"You are thoroughly enjoyin' this, Rob," Lori comments, laughing.

"Of course I am. I was right. What's not to enjoy?" he asks, his eyes twinkling at her in that way they do when he's thinking of things that he really has no business thinking of. "Gareth, we're all gonna be descendin' on your place tonight, too."

"I would expect nothin' less," Gareth nods.

Then he winks at Lori, earning him the briefest glare from Rob. He just chuckles.

Alfred returns now, accompanied by one of the FBI agents. "All right, let's go."

"Mr. Carter," the agent stops as Alfred and Liam continue out the door.

"Yes?"

"Thank you. Godwin's been on this case for nine years. He's very happy to be able to put him away."

"No problem. You should be thanking Percy here, not me, though."

"Ah, Mr. Andersen," Agent Carlson turns, looking up at him. "We've had cars driving past your mother's house at regular intervals. I don't think Delaine has any accomplices in the area, not that he would have had the opportunity to dispatch any of them if he did. Your mom is perfectly safe, son."

"Thank you, Mr…"

"Carlson."

"Thank you, Mr. Carlson."

"Mr. Carter, there is a reward…" he starts.

"Give it to Percy," Rob answers immediately.

Lori smiles. Percy gawks. "Th-thanks…"

"You deserve it. Get your mom something nice."

"Maybe I'll see if she wants to move down here…" he muses.

"Oh, Carter," Carlson says just as he is about to return to the holding cells below.

"Hmm?"

"Tell your father I said hello."

"You know my pop?"

"Went to Harvard together," he nods, smiling a little mischievously, as though remembering some not-fit-for-mixed-company story.

"I'll tell him," Rob says, watching the agent saunter away under puzzled brows.

11

Alined slinks up to the witness stand and is sworn in.

"So," Liam begins, "Mr. Alined, you have been in Memphis for nine years, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"And before that, you were known as Herman Delaine of Sioux Falls, South Dakota, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Your honor, I move for a recess," Alfred stands and declares loudly.

"Reason?"

"I'm not prepared for this… new information."

Judge Rodor taps his chin with his finger a moment, at least pretending to think about it.

"No, I don't think so. The fact that your client was not completely forthcoming with you about his past is not this court's problem. Proceed, Mr. Winters."

Alfred sits, scowling.

"Now, Mr. Alined… Mr. Delaine… I'm sorry, I'm not exactly sure how I should address you," Liam says, smirking. "We'll go with 'Alined' for now, I think. Mr. Alined, we'll get to the, um, details of your life in South Dakota momentarily, but first, will you tell the court how it is that you managed to convince Mr. Andersen and his mother to keep your little secret?"

Alined glances at Alfred, who looks completely lost. He shakes his head no very slightly, so Alined says nothing.

"Mr. Alined, you are under oath. And if you do not wish to share with us, I can simply call Mr. Andersen back to the stand and I'm sure he will be more than cooperative."

"I bought their silence through threats and coercion," Alined growls through clenched teeth.

"I told them both that I would kill my sister if he opened his mouth. Then when she came beggin' me for a job for her boy, it got much easier."

"You threatened your own sister. Your only, helpless sister. Helpless after she took a little 'spill' down a flight of stairs, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Or was it less a 'spill' and more a 'push,' I wonder?"

"Objection!" Alfred yells. "He's makin' accusations!"

"I am stating facts, Mr. Boudreaux," Liam says, reaching towards Rob, who is handing him another file. "Exhibit… oh, hell, I've lost count.

Here," he hands a large file to the judge now.

"Overruled, Mr. Boudreaux," Rodor says, looking through the papers.

"Mr. Alined," Liam continues. "Would you be so good as to tell us exactly why you needed to maim your sister and further threaten her life to keep her and her son's silence?"

Alined's face is beet-red and he doesn't look inclined to say anything further. "Ask Baby Huey there," he nods towards Percy.

Liam looks over at Percy, who is sitting surprisingly calmly behind Lori and Rob. He shrugs, as if to indicate that he expected as much.

"All right, then. You may step down, Mr. Alined."

"Bedivere," Judge Rodor calls to the bailiff, "please escort Mr. Alined to his seat. We don't want him thinking he can take a runner."

"Your honor," Rob speaks up and stands, "we have made arrangements for Mr. Alined. Mr. Godwin?" He turns and addresses an older man in a suit who seems to materialize from the crowd.

"And who do we have here?" Judge Rodor asks.

"Mr. Keith Godwin and Mr. Robert Carlson, FBI, your honor. They'll be extraditing Mr. Alined, I mean, Mr. Delaine, back to South Dakota at the conclusion of this trial."

Judge Rodor nods. Suddenly it's looking like his job just got a whole lot easier.

Godwin walks up to Alined and slaps one half of a handcuff on one of his wrists. "Herman," he says.

"Godwin," Alined answers. "You're looking older."

"And you're looking uglier," Godwin snaps.

"Grow the beard back; it covers up your face.

Come on." He hauls Alined back to his seat beside Alfred, then the two FBI agents sit in two seats that seem to have magically appeared directly behind Alined.

Alfred will not even look at Alined.

"Mr. Andersen, if you would be so kind," Liam says. Percy stands and returns to the witness stand.

"Now, you're still under oath," Liam reminds him.

"Yes, sir, I know, sir."

"Now, we have the details of what Mr. Alined did when he was still walkin' around as Mr. Delaine, but would you care to give us your version of it, Mr. Andersen?"

"Yes, sir. But first, I want to apologize."

"Apologize?"

"For keeping my mouth closed for all this time. I know it wasn't right, but when a man is threatening the only family you have, and it's your own mother, well, it makes it hard to stand up and do the right thing. And I also want to apologize to Miss Thompson. I… part of the reason I stepped up with the information about her father's death is because I finally saw a way out for myself. I saw a way that I could get out from under Mr. Alined's thumb. I used her misfortune to my advantage, and I feel ashamed for that." He looks down at his hands a moment.

"Miss Thompson, would you like to respond?" Judge Rodor asks.

Lori looks at Rob, who nods. She stands.

"Percy, I cannot forgive you because no wrong has been done. You have no reason to feel ashamed. You are helping me and my brother and several others as well. You are doing a good, brave deed and if you benefit as well, then even better. A reward for a good deed done. I will be forever grateful to you, Percy.

You can hold your head high knowing that you helped so many people today, including yourself."

"Thank you, Lori," Percy says quietly. "You are truly an amazing woman. Tom would be very proud of you."

Liam smiles, wipes a few tears from her eyes, and sits. Under the table, Rob's hand creeps over and closes softly over hers for just a few moments, but it is enough.

"All right, then, proceed, Mr. Winters," Judge Rodor waves his hand.

"Mr. Andersen, what can you tell us about the events concerning Mr. Herman Delaine during the month of April 1954?"

"Mr. Delaine was a driver for Dr. Tristan DuBois of Sioux Falls. He was a surgeon, very well- respected. He's retired now."

"And how are you connected to Dr. DuBois?"

"Indirectly. I was friends with his son, Leonard, through my mother. She was Leon's nanny, and she still looked after him even though he was too old to need a nanny anymore. Mrs. DuBois died with Leonard was very young." "I see. Please continue."

"Well, Dr. Dubois had a housekeeper, Mrs. Harris. She was colored, and she had a daughter, Ellie. Her daughter would also help out after school. She was a sweet girl, smart, very pretty. Mr. Delaine, well, he must have decided that he had to… have her, and…" Percy stops, taking a deep breath. "And he raped her. Then he killed her."

There is a collective gasp from the courtroom. Alfred Boudreaux looks like he doesn't want anything to do with Alined anymore.

"And how do you know this information, Percy?"

Liam asks quietly, once the murmuring has died down.

"Leonard and my mother both saw it. Well, the end of it. And Delaine knew they saw him."

"And what happened the next day?"

"Leonard took his car to go to school, and he had a fatal car accident. His brakes failed. Brakes on his brand new car. He was only seventeen."

Lori is crying openly now, as are several others in the courtroom.

"And your mother?"

"Well, it's like you said. She took a rather mysterious fall down a marble staircase in Dr. DuBois' house. She hurt her hip badly. Still walks with a limp. And there was brain damage as well. Her memory is… bad. She remembers things she's always known. Like she knows who I am when I call, but she'll forget to do simple things like eat and shower and change clothes."

"And that's why a friend looks in on her, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"And to keep your silence, Mr. Delaine threatened further harm on your mother?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then what happened?"

"He left. We thought we were free of him, but then he called two months later. He told us that he wanted us to know that he was still alive and that he was thriving, in fact. Bragged about having his own company."

"That seems rather foolish," Liam comments.

"Well, Mr. Delaine may be a lot of things, but intelligent really isn't one of them," Percy says, and many in the courtroom laugh.

"So he told you where he was?"

"Yes. He said he wanted us to know so we wouldn't be tempted to squeal on him. He thought that if we knew where he was then we would be too afraid to turn him in because he could still get to us. Thinking back, and now that I say it out loud, it sounds really stupid."

Liam chuckles at this. "And how did you land in the army with a mother that needed care?"

"I was drafted. I could have applied for a hardship exception, but my mom told me to go.

She said that Sharon would look after her – that's our family friend, Sharon – and that she would be fine. She said that my duty to the country was more important than my duty to her. But then I got injured and was back sooner than either of us expected."

"And, as we already discussed, you were unable to find a job."

"Yes, sir. And that was the first fight I ever had with my mom. She wanted to call Delaine and have him give me a job. I refused. She pleaded with me. Have you ever seen your mother cry, Mr. Winters?"

"Yes," Liam says softly.

"So then you know that it is something you want to stop as soon as you can. I relented, for her.

Because I need to take care of her. I swallowed my pride and took the job, Delaine further secured my silence, and I was pressed further under his thumb."

"And did the threats stop, then?"

"No. He'd slip them in, casual as you please, whenever he talked to me. I tried to avoid talking to him."

"I don't blame you," Liam says. "I think that's enough, don't you, your honor?"

Judge Rodor, who has been listening like he wishes he had a bucket of popcorn, nods and looks at Alfred.

"Mr. Boudreaux?"

"I have no questions, your honor." Alfred looks like he's been on a steady diet of lemons and sardines.

"I thought not. Thank you again, Mr. Andersen."

Rodor flips through the reports on his desk, then he glances at the clock. "All right, this has been one hell of a morning. I'm tired and I'm hungry.

Recess for lunch. We will reconvene in an hour and a half. Bedivere, please show Mr… Godwin and Mr. Carlson where the holding cells are and put Mr. Alined in there for safekeeping." He bangs his gavel.

"State your full name, please," Liam starts out, leaning casually against the table where Rob and Lori sit.

"Percy Einar Andersen," he says, clearly a man less than thrilled with the name his parents gave him.

"That's quite a name," Liam comments.

"Well, it's not just you southerners that go in for family names, Mr. Winters."

"Right. Where is it you hail from, then, Percy?"

"Sioux Falls, South Dakota, sir."

"Sounds like a good, honest, hard-working town."

"It is, sir."

"Do you miss it?" Liam asks, as if he is making conversation.

"Objection, your honor. This is irrelevant," Alfred says, his tone irritated.

"Merely establishing my witness's character, your honor," Liam explains.

"Overruled. Continue," Judge Rodor waves his hand.

"Do you miss South Dakota, Mr. Andersen?"

"Sometimes. Don't miss the cold weather."

There are scattered chuckles throughout the crowd at his answer. Rob smiles a small smile. This is exactly what I was counting on. The man is a genuinely good person. They'll see this.

"You are an Army veteran, is that correct?" Liam pushes himself away from the table and starts milling slowly about the front of the courtroom.

"Yes, sir. Was injured and honorably discharged."

"Were you in Korea?"

"No, sir. Vietnam."

"Oh, so very recently, then," Liam continues as if he doesn't know all the details.

"Yes, sir."

"How is it you were in Vietman? The United States hasn't sent any combat troops there yet."


"Special Forces, sir. Confidential."

"Ah, you could tell me, but then you'd have to kill me, is that correct?" Liam smiles.

"Yes, sir."

"And why were you sent home?"

"Injury. I lost part of my leg, below the knee," he says.

"And I trust that's all the detail you can give, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you came home to find…"

"I came home to find that no one was able to give me a job. Or willing, more accurately. I'm built for physical work, Mr. Winters. No one wanted to hire a man with one-and-two-thirds legs, even if the rest of him is perfectly healthy," he shrugs.

There are some mutterings in the crowd now, mutterings of understanding Percy's plight, mutterings of scorn for the people who wouldn't give him a job.

"So you return home, a war hero with significant scars to prove it, and no one would hire you."

"Yes, sir."

"So you picked up and came here?"

"Not exactly, sir. My mother made a call and… well, sir, she helped me get this job at Alined Paper, sir."

"Your mother?"

"Yes, sir. Eugene Alined is her older brother."

There is a collective gasp throughout the crowd.

Percy's secret is out. Rob glances over to see Alfred Boudreaux scrambling through his notes, and he grins, poking Lori on the arm and pointing.

Rob leans over and whispers, "See? I told you.

Pre-emptive strike. We let the cat out of the bag before Alfred does, disarming what was surely a key element of his defense."

Lori nods and smiles at him, finding her gaze lingering on his smiling face just a fraction too long. She drops her eyes and blushes slightly.

"So your mother called your uncle and asked him if he would give you a job," Liam says.

"Yes, sir."

"If Mr. Alined is your uncle, then why are you helping Miss Thompson with her case?" Liam asks the question that is now on everyone's minds.

"I have no love for my uncle. I am grateful to him for the job, but I disagree with just about everything he stands for as a person."

"You'll be lookin' for another job sooner'n you think, boy!" Alined shouts suddenly, his face red.

Alfred grabs his client's arm and shushes him vehemently. "We do apologize for the outburst, your honor," he sputters, squeezing Alined's arm so hard his knuckles are white. "It won't happen again."

"It better not or I'll find you in contempt of court," the judge says.

"If you dislike your uncle so strongly, why did you accept the job?" Liam continues, asking the questions he knows Alfred would be asking, well aware that Rob is now smiling rather smugly behind him.

"I was desperate for a job, sir. Some of you can understand this." There are scattered nods throughout the crowd. "When you're desperate, you'll take whatever you can get, no matter the conditions. Even if it means moving far away."

"Why did you need this job so badly, Percy?"

Liam asks quietly.

"My father is dead. My mother can't work. I'm her only son. I need to support her," he answers, just as quietly. "My mom is… fragile.

Simple, but sweet. She needs looking after. She has a friend that looks in on her, but we can't expect her to take care of my mom financially."

"You have no other family?"

"No, sir. Just me and my mom. And him, I guess," he says, nodding in Alined's direction.

"So you send money home," Liam says.

"Yes, every week. As much as I can spare."

"You are a good son, Percy," Liam nods. "And I believe you are a good man. Would you care to tell us why you chose to speak up about Mr. Thompson's death?"

"Well, sir, a man was killed. A good man, with a family. His death could have been prevented.

Should have been prevented. It was simply the right thing to do, sir."

"Right," Liam nods. "Your honor, I submit Exhibit B for your perusal," Liam says, reaching for a thick folder of papers. "Copies of repair requests for several pieces of equipment.

Requests that were never fulfilled."

The judge takes the folder and flips through the contents. "I don't suppose you have the originals?"

"Exhibit C, seized from Mr. Alined's office," Liam says with a smirk, handing him the second folder. "You'll see they were never signed off."

"How did you acquire these forms, Mr. Winters?"

Judge Rodor asks, raising an eyebrow.

"His, um, 'personal assistant,' Mr. Dennis Trickler, is currently being held in County for vandalizing Miss Thompson's home, along with several other charges that have come to light.

Miss Thompson and her brother agreed to drop the vandalism charges if he would help us with one or two items pertaining to this case."

Percy glances at Alined. His face is stony and blood-red. Alfred Boudreaux looks like he is going to be sick.

"I have nothing further at this time, your honor," Liam says, nodding to the judge, and sitting.

Rob nods at Liam, pleased. "Let's see what he comes back with now."

"Mr. Boudreaux," Judge Rodor says, trying not to sigh.

"Thank you, your honor," Alfred stands and immediately starts pacing and posturing, a fat peacock with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Mr. Andersen, you expect us to buy that you'd turn your back on your own kin for some negro who happened to be standing in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

"Well, that's a hell of an open," Liam leans back and mutters to Rob behind Lori's head.

Rob shushes him, but he's smirking.

"I don't expect everyone to understand my motives, sir, no," Percy says carefully. It's fairly clear to the crowd to whom he was referring when he said "everyone."

"What are your motives, then, son? Please enlighten us."

"As I said, a man died that did not deserve to die."

"Surely that happens all the time."

"But it would have been prevented if other people had done their jobs, sir," Percy says, glancing again at his uncle.

"So. You're just a nice, honest, down-to-earth young man with a big heart, a decorated war hero that just wants people to treat each other with respect, is that it?"

"I guess you could say that, yes, sir."

I love that he keeps ending his statements with "sir," Rob thinks.

"Mr. Andersen, according to my findings, your nickname in the army was 'Sweet Pea,' is that correct?"

Percy furrows his brows. "Um, yes, sir."

"That's an… interesting nickname for a soldier, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir," Percy answers, glancing at Liam and Rob, who look as confused as he is, but give him encouraging nods anyway. Keep being yourself!

"Now, Mr. Andersen, it makes me no never mind, but surely homosexuals are not allowed in the military…"

"Objection, your honor!" Liam stands and yells.

"This isn't relevant, and he's insulting my witness!"

"Merely establishing the witness's character, your honor," Alfred shoots back, using Liam's earlier words against him now.

"Overruled… for the moment. Proceed carefully, Mr. Boudreaux."

"Now, Mr. Andersen, would you care to explain how you kept this little secret from your commanding officer? Surely this fine, upstanding war hero wasn't lyin' to the U.S. Government…" he sneers, the implications plain in his voice.

"I am not a homosexual," Percy states simply.

Calmly. Rob almost stands and cheers. He's unflappable!

"Oh, you ain't? Well, then, care to explain your little nickname, honey?"

"Objection!" Liam yells again.

"Sustained. Watch it, Boudreaux."

"I'll answer the question," Percy offers, looking at the judge.

"If you'd like."

"My initials are P.E.A. I made the mistake of writing them on my pack, and, well, you know how it is in the military…" Percy starts.

"No. I don't, as a matter of fact," Alfred says, sounding like he's proud of the fact that he never had to dirty his hands serving his country.

"I'm a Navy man, Mr. Andersen, so I understand completely," the judge says. "But perhaps you can explain it to the defense attorney."

"Well, all it takes is for one person to say something once, sir, and if it sticks, you're stuck forever. And since I am, as you yourself said, a nice, honest, down-to-earth young man, someone started calling me 'Sweet Pea.' On account of the fact that I am how I am. Not queer, but quiet."

Alfred seems to deflate like a balloon with a slow leak.

"You may think it an unfortunate nickname, but try telling that to my buddy Muttonhead," Percy adds.

Rob has to slap his hand over his mouth to stop his laughter. I love this guy.

"Quite," is all that Boudreaux can manage. "So tell me, Mr. Andersen, why is it you felt it was necessary to make and keep copies of all these reports? Surely there is a better use of your time than pushing around papers?"

"Well, Mr. Boudreaux, my captain had a motto that he drilled into us. C.Y.A."

"C… Y… A…" Alfred mulls over the three letters, as if tasting them. "Care to explain that?"

"Yes, sir. It stands for 'Cover Your…' um, rear end. Or very nearly close to that."

"And how does this charming 'motto' pertain to your wasting company time and resources to make copies of reports?"

"Well, sir, the repairs weren't getting done. So I started keeping copies of the requests just case there was an accident involving one of these pieces of machinery, and if someone got hurt or killed, we would know that we at least tried to keep our equipment operating properly," Percy explains, speaking slowly and clearly, as if he is talking to a small child. "You will also notice that I re-used scrap pieces of paper to make the copies rather than, as you said, wasting clean white paper," he adds, just to further drive his point home.

Rob reaches around Lori and pokes Liam in the shoulder, who just nods. He glances at Lori, who appears to be holding her breath.

"Breathe, Loretta, it's going to be fine," he whispers to her, and she slowly releases her breath.

"Sounds to me like you have no confidence in your uncle," Alfred says. He turns to the crowd "What kind of fine, upstanding young man turns his back on his kin like that, I ask you?"

He gets no response, only stony stares, so he spins quickly around to address Percy again.

"You do not trust your uncle, son?"

"With due respect sir, I would ask that you please stop calling me 'son.' I am not your son.

And no, I do not trust my uncle."

"All right, Mr. Andersen, why is this, pray tell?"

Percy looks at Alined a moment. It looks as though he has just swallowed a toad. "That is a matter of public record, sir. His past is well- documented in the state of South Dakota."

"I didn't find anything incriminating against Mr. Eugene Alined," Alfred shrugs. "Exhibit, um, D, your honor." He tosses a thin file on the judge's desk, a report stating that Eugene Alined has no criminal record.

"Did you check under the name Herman Delaine, sir?"

"Who in the Sam Hill is Herman Delaine?"

"Eugene Alined, sir. His birth name."

"You little bastard!" Alined leaps from his chair again, fuming.

"Mr. Boudreaux, restrain your client or I will have him restrained," Judge Rodor shouts, banging his gavel. "Mr. Alined, you are fined $100 for contempt. I did warn you."

"No further questions, your honor," Alfred mumbles, pushing Alined back to his seat. "Mr. Winters?"

"I believe Mr. Andersen has said all he needs to say," Liam drawls. "I'd like to call Eugene Alined… or Herman Delaine… to the stand.

Whichever of you wants to come up. Don't matter to me which."

Percy gets down from the witness stand and makes his uneven way back to his seat. He pauses beside Liam, and she smiles up at him, reaching her hand out a bit, then withdrawing it some, knowing that she shouldn't. Percy reaches forward and clasps her hand anyway, squeezing it reassuringly between his large paws.

Loriis surprised at the gentleness of his touch. "Thank you," she whispers. He just nods and returns to his seat.

Dedicated to all the readers am sorry guys i know am not as active like before. Am sorry just sorry


****#####"**####


8:40 Monday morning finds Lori waiting
outside the courtroom with Rob and Liam.


Both lawyers seem excited about the day's
events. Percy is taking the stand today and
they cannot wait.


"What if he chickens out?" Lori asks.


"He won't," Rob says. She doesn't know the
latest details, and he doesn't have time to go
into it all right now.


She smiles, and he knows that he's gone all
Superman on her again. "Oh, there he is," she
says.


Percy walks slowly over, joining the group.


"Hey."


"Percy, you look very dashing today," Lori
says, looking up at him.


"Thanks. This is my one good suit," he says. "I
have trouble finding suits that fit me right, so I
always have to have them made or tailored," he
explains.


"Well, if you were the size of a normal human
man instead of a… a silverback gorilla, it
wouldn't be a problem, now, would it?" Rob
asks, smirking at the large man.


"That's a new one," Percy says, nodding
appreciatively with a chuckle.


Rob looks between Percy and Liam's
shoulders now, suddenly feeling very short, and
sees Marcus and Gareth walk in.


"Gareth?" she says, furrowing her brows.


Rob turns. "Marcus," he nods. "Gareth, this is
a surprise."


"Trial of the year, man, had to come. Miss
Lori, you look lovely, as always," Gareth holds
his hand out, expecting Lori to place her hand
in his.


She looks at his hand and raises an eyebrow at
him.


"This ain't your pub, mate," Marcus says,
thumping him on the head. "Company manners."


Lori chuckles at Marcus as he chastises
Gareth like he is a disobedient child. She looks
at the large clock on the wall. 8:50. "Ugh, time
is crawlin'. Why were we here so early?"


"Gotta be here early. The courts frown on
tardiness," Liam says, looking at his watch.


"Hey, Jim," he says, greeting a police officer
walking past.


"Jim!" Rob calls, waving him back.


"Rob, Liam," the policeman says.


"Jim, this is Loretta Thompson. The house
that was vandalized by your new favorite guest
was her house," Rob says. "Loretta, police
chief Jim Quigley."


"Pleased to meet you, sir,"Lori smiles. The
chief offers his hand and she shakes it. "And
thank you for your help."


"Just doin' my job, miss. And speaking of, I'd
better get to it," he nods. "Nice meeting you.


Rob, Liam, good luck today. Keep me posted."


He glances up at Percy and gives him a friendly
nod.


"Of course," Rob answers.


As Jim steps away, Lori sees him pause near
Gareth and mutters, "Mom says hello. And get
a haircut."


Gareth snorts and slaps Jim affectionately on
the arm as he walks away.


Lori looks at Rob, a question in her eyes.


Rob nods slightly, but puts his finger to his
lips.


Well, I guess that explains how Gareth's tavern
stays open.


"Let's go inside," Rob says. "We don't want to
meet up with Alfred here in the hallway, do we?"


As he leads the group inside, Lori glances
back to the doors and sees Elliot come skidding
in.


Earlier than he was on Friday, she thinks with a
shrug.

happy bday dear evajael. i know its coming late but i won't forgive myself if i didn't do this. wish you many more years of grace. The olowogbogboro would surely hear your prayer this month. Hbd dearie. P.S send me your number

Sunday, halftime of the St. Louis – Minnesota game, and Rob's phone rings.

"You're lucky it's halftime," is how he answers the phone.

"You think I would be callin' anyone while the game was on, Rob?" Lori laughs.

"Oh, well, seein' as how it's you, then, no. Marcus isn't as considerate. How are you, Loretta?"

"Pretty good. Cardinals are kickin' tails and takin' names, so it's a good day."


"Can't argue with that logic."

"Elliot told me what you did yesterday," she says.

"Oh. It wasn't nothin'."

"It was somethin', Rob. He really appreciates it. And so do I."

"It really wasn't a big deal. I just made the cops realize that they were overreacting, is all."

"You put your own reputation on the line for my brother, Rob. He told me what you said; about if Elliot gets in trouble again they can arrest you, too. He couldn't believe you'd do that for him."

"Elliot's a good guy. I think he forgets that himself, sometimes. But I did it for you, too, Lorettta."

"For me?"

"Well, yes. You don't need him addin' more stress to your life right now. I told him that, too.

He loves you, Loretta, and I don't think he realized that his actions could have a negative affect on all the good you're tryin' to do with this trial."

"Oh," she says. "The trial, right."

"Well, that's not the only reason, but you won't let me talk about that," he says softly.

"You don't need to impress me, Superman, you've already done that," she admits.

"Um… oh! Did Elliot convince you to cook dinner for him on Friday?" he asks, changing the subject to hopefully a lighter topic. Ignore the elephant in the room.

"Nope," she says, and he can hear her smile.

"We stopped at the McDonald's on Ridgeway and I made him buy me a cheeseburger."

"Good for you," Rob chuckles. "I came home and had a bowl of cereal and some toast and ended up falling asleep on the couch. Woke up around 1:30 and then went to bed."

Lori laughs. "After supper we came home and I came straight up here and took a long, hot bubble bath."

The silence on the other end of the line is deafening, and it is only then that Lori realizes her mistake.

"Rob?" she ventures cautiously.

"Sorry," he croaks. "I'm here…"

"Um, the game is coming back on. I'll let you go so we can both watch."

"Oh, um…"

"See you tomorrow morning," she says. "Okay. Goodbye, Loretta," he answers and hangs up the phone.

Rob finds he has trouble concentrating on the second half of the game because his mind keeps drifting to thoughts of Loretta, lying blissfully in a bathtub, her skin glistening, surrounded by piles of luxurious suds.

Rob is heading into Gareth's to meet Marcus for lunch Saturday when a commotion catches his eye a couple blocks away.

Police are outside the Woolworth's, and as he looks, he sees about a half dozen young black men being escorted from the premises.

Not escorted, hauled. He looks. Shit. Is that Elliot? He starts walking over. Yes, it is. Shit, Elliot, what are you doing? I don't need this.

Loretta doesn't need this.

He recognizes the officer holding Elliot's elbow and calls to him. "Steve! Hey, Steve!"

The officer stops. "Rob!"

"What's going on here?"

"Taking these boys to the station. Disorderly conduct."

"Now hold on a minute there," Rob says. "I happen to be this young man's lawyer." He shoots Elliot a look that says Don't you dare open your mouth. "Can I have a word with my client, please?"

"Um…"

"Steve, I just want a word."

"All right," he says, holding his hand up to the other officers who are now taking an interest.

"Elliot what the hell are you doing?" Rob asks, quietly but forcefully.

"We wasn't doin' nothin', honest! We was just sittin' in. Real peaceful, like. Wasn't botherin' no one!"

Rob studies him a minute. "I wish Loretta was here," he mutters.

"What?"

"She knows when you're lyin'."

"I ain't lyin' Robert! We was just settin'. On my Mama's soul." He moves his shoulders a minute. "I'd cross my heart if I had my hands."

"All right, I believe you," Rob says, holding up his hands. "Let me talk to the cops."

Elliot nods.

" Do not open your mouth, " Rob says sternly.

"Hey, Steve," Rob says. "Disorderly conduct?

Surely that's a bit… trumped-up, don't you think?"

"I just got a call from the Woolworth's, Rob…"

"Steve, Pete," he addresses another policeman as well now, "these boys weren't botherin' anyone. They were bein' peaceful."

"They upset old Mrs. Nash."

"Old Mrs. Nash is 112 if she's a day. A goldfish would upset old Mrs. Nash," Rob sighs. He shoots a glare at Elliot as he bites back a snicker.

"Let 'em go, boys, come on. You got better things to be doin' than chasin' after some colored boys who weren't doing anything besides maybe loitering."

"I don't know…" Steve shifts his weight on his feet now, clearly considering it.

"You got bigger fish to fry, boys," Rob presses. "Like that kid who keeps knockin' over gas stations. Or that slowpoke who keeps showin' his business to ladies down in the park."

"I suppose…"

"Look, Steve. If it'll make you feel better, I'll be responsible for Elliot here."

Elliot is about to open his mouth to protest, but another glare from Rob keeps his teeth together.

"If he so much as jaywalks, you can arrest me, too," Rob finishes.

Elliot is shocked. He would put his own neck on the line like that for me?

"Release them, boys," Steve says to the other officers, and they go about unlocking handcuffs.

"I will be keeping my eyes out for you, though," he says to Elliot.

The policemen get in their cars and disperse, and Elliot turns to Rob.

"Um… thanks."

Elliot's friends all stop and thank him as well.

Rob notices that Aaron is among them, too.

He stops and shakes Rob's hand. "Thanks, man. Knew you had to be good people, since you're Marcus's friend."

Rob nods at Aaron, then turns to Elliot. "Don't make a liar out of me, Elliot," Rob says tersely. "I don't want to end up in jail any more'n you do."

"Understood."

"Your sister doesn't need you making trouble either, not now." Rob starts walking back to Gareth's, and Elliot follows.

"I know. I wasn't tryin' to make trouble. I said we was bein' peaceful, and we was, but then that old biddy started in to fussin', and 'fore we knew it, the fuzz was pullin' up and slappin' cuffs on us all without even askin' us what we was doin'."

Rob nods, then shakes his head. "That's wrong. They shouldn't be hasslin' you and automatically assumin' you're trouble because of the color of your skin."

Elliot looks at Rob as if he's never seen him before. "You really think that way, don't you?"

"What way?"

"Like what Dr. King said. That people shouldn't be judged by the color of their skin. They should be judged by the…" he pauses, trying to remember the words.

"The content of their character, yes," Rob nods. "That is really the way I think."

"You're all right, Rob," Elliot says after a time.

"Even for a blonde Mr. Charlie?" Rob asks, smirking.

"You're all right as a man, Rob."

"Thank you, Elliot. So are you, my friend."

Rob is heading into Gareth's to meet Marcus for lunch Saturday when a commotion catches his eye a couple blocks away.

Police are outside the Woolworth's, and as he looks, he sees about a half dozen young black men being escorted from the premises.

Not escorted, hauled. He looks. Shit. Is that Elliot? He starts walking over. Yes, it is. Shit, Elliot, what are you doing? I don't need this.

Loretta doesn't need this.

He recognizes the officer holding Elliot's elbow and calls to him. "Steve! Hey, Steve!"

The officer stops. "Rob!"

"What's going on here?"

"Taking these boys to the station. Disorderly conduct."

"Now hold on a minute there," Rob says. "I happen to be this young man's lawyer." He shoots Elliot a look that says Don't you dare open your mouth. "Can I have a word with my client, please?"

"Um…"

"Steve, I just want a word."

"All right," he says, holding his hand up to the other officers who are now taking an interest.

"Elliot what the hell are you doing?" Rob asks, quietly but forcefully.

"We wasn't doin' nothin', honest! We was just sittin' in. Real peaceful, like. Wasn't botherin' no one!"

Rob studies him a minute. "I wish Loretta was here," he mutters.

"What?"

"She knows when you're lyin'."

"I ain't lyin' Robert! We was just settin'. On my Mama's soul." He moves his shoulders a minute. "I'd cross my heart if I had my hands."

"All right, I believe you," Rob says, holding up his hands. "Let me talk to the cops."

Elliot nods.

" Do not open your mouth, " Rob says sternly.

"Hey, Steve," Rob says. "Disorderly conduct?

Surely that's a bit… trumped-up, don't you think?"

"I just got a call from the Woolworth's, Rob…"

"Steve, Pete," he addresses another policeman as well now, "these boys weren't botherin' anyone. They were bein' peaceful."

"They upset old Mrs. Nash."

"Old Mrs. Nash is 112 if she's a day. A goldfish would upset old Mrs. Nash," Rob sighs. He shoots a glare at Elliot as he bites back a snicker.

"Let 'em go, boys, come on. You got better things to be doin' than chasin' after some colored boys who weren't doing anything besides maybe loitering."

"I don't know…" Steve shifts his weight on his feet now, clearly considering it.

"You got bigger fish to fry, boys," Rob presses. "Like that kid who keeps knockin' over gas stations. Or that slowpoke who keeps showin' his business to ladies down in the park."

"I suppose…"

"Look, Steve. If it'll make you feel better, I'll be responsible for Elliot here."

Elliot is about to open his mouth to protest, but another glare from Rob keeps his teeth together.

"If he so much as jaywalks, you can arrest me, too," Rob finishes.

Elliot is shocked. He would put his own neck on the line like that for me?

"Release them, boys," Steve says to the other officers, and they go about unlocking handcuffs.

"I will be keeping my eyes out for you, though," he says to Elliot.

The policemen get in their cars and disperse, and Elliot turns to Rob.

"Um… thanks."

Elliot's friends all stop and thank him as well.

Rob notices that Aaron is among them, too.

He stops and shakes Rob's hand. "Thanks, man. Knew you had to be good people, since you're Marcus's friend."

Rob nods at Aaron, then turns to Elliot. "Don't make a liar out of me, Elliot," Rob says tersely. "I don't want to end up in jail any more'n you do."

"Understood."

"Your sister doesn't need you making trouble either, not now." Rob starts walking back to Gareth's, and Elliot follows.

"I know. I wasn't tryin' to make trouble. I said we was bein' peaceful, and we was, but then that old biddy started in to fussin', and 'fore we knew it, the fuzz was pullin' up and slappin' cuffs on us all without even askin' us what we was doin'."

Rob nods, then shakes his head. "That's wrong. They shouldn't be hasslin' you and automatically assumin' you're trouble because of the color of your skin."

Elliot looks at Rob as if he's never seen him before. "You really think that way, don't you?"

"What way?"

"Like what Dr. King said. That people shouldn't be judged by the color of their skin. They should be judged by the…" he pauses, trying to remember the words.

"The content of their character, yes," Rob nods. "That is really the way I think."

"You're all right, Rob," Elliot says after a time.

"Even for a blonde Mr. Charlie?" Rob asks, smirking.

"You're all right as a man, Rob."

"Thank you, Elliot. So are you, my friend."

queenitee:
You two Nnenna and Evajael ehn, you guys had a meeting of Elliots no, lol.

Elliot is my crush you know Desmond Elliot

queenitee:
You two Nnenna and Evajael ehn, you guys had a meeting of Elliots no, lol.

Elliot is my crush you know Desmond Elliot

EvaJael:
Yeah yeah biko nnenna help me o queenitee wants to kill me before my time

what happened what did you do to her. Bia queenitee don't kill evajael if you eventually kill her now and she dies who would complete the story biko

EvaJael:
I didn't even notice my Elliot has anoda Elliot here in "In Search Of Dreams". Nnenna how far na

babe am good i was surprised when i saw Elliot on your story but nevertheless all is good

"I think that went well," Liam says, out in the corridor. "It was amusing to see that Alfred was not immune to Aredian's particular charms."

Rob chuckles. "My dad is the only one who is."

"I don't know if that makes me like your father more or if that makes me a little afraid of him," Lori says. "That man was just creepy."

"That he is," Rob agrees. "Are you hungry?"

"Rob…"

"Sorry. Oh, hey, Elliott," Rob looks up to see Elliott approaching them.

"Rob," Elliott nods.

"Elliot, this is Liam Winters, Rob's associate.

Liam, my brother Elliot."

"Nice to meet you, Elliot," Liam says, extending his hand.

Elliot shakes it. "You're doin' a good job up there, as far as I can tell," Elliot says, surprising them all.

"Could you tell that I was nervous questioning Mr. Aredian?" Liam asks.

"Nah, we was all nervous when he went up there," Elliot says. "They takin' good care o' you up there, Lori?"

"Yes, Elliot, I'm fine. The worst part was listening to Ezra," she says.

"Yeah, that was rough. Daddy would o' been proud o' him, though."

Lori nods. "He was there with us today," she says, taking her brother's hand and squeezing it.

"Where were you?"

"In the back, o' course. Sneaked in just before two."

Lori smirks at Rob, who tactfully turns his head to hide his smile.

"All right, I know what you smirkin' at, girl."

"Just be there earlier on Monday. I'd like it if you were sitting closer to me," she says.

"Let's go home," Elliot says. "You got a car here?"

She glances at Rob. "Um, no… Rob gave me a lift…"

Elliot looks sideways at Rob.

"Only because parking is terrible 'round here. No sense in bringin' more cars over when it's already bad."

"Yeah, I'm two blocks over and one up," Elliot allows, grudgingly. "Come on, you can cook me supper," he says.

"I ain't cookin' you nothin', Elliot Thomas," Lori snaps back as the four of them walk out of the courthouse. Rob chuckles behind them. Even Liam can't hide his smile at Lori's sassy demeanor with her brother.

10

Aredian strides to the witness stand from the back of the courtroom, a thin, severe, imposing figure, all in black. Something about his demeanor makes everyone uncomfortable in his presence, like they're afraid that he's going to shoot lightning bolts from his fingertips and smite them just for breathing the same air.

"Good Lord, Rob, where'd your father meet him?" Lori whispers.

"I honestly have no idea. Some questions are better left unanswered," he whispers back. He's been enjoying whispering in her ear all afternoon, though he feels slightly guilty about his enjoyment, in light of the circumstances.

Liam stands after Aredian is sworn in.

"State your full name, please."

"Jack Aredian."

Liam pauses a second. "All right," he nods. "And what is your occupation, sir?"

"Maintenance expert."

"Can you explain to the court what that exactly means?"

"I know how mechanical things work. I diagnose problems and I fix them."

"Is there anything you cannot fix?"

"I have yet to discover one."

"Very good," Liam says, clearing his throat. Clearly even he is a bit unnerved by his own witness. "A week ago Friday, you paid a visit to the warehouse at Alined Paper, is this correct?"

"Yes."

"And what were your findings?"

"My findings are on the report in your hands."

Liam takes an almost imperceptible deep breath. "Yes, but as I do not have copies for everyone here, would you please summarize your findings? Exhibit A, your honor." Liam hands the file to Judge Rodor.

"I found fifteen separate repairs in need of attention on a variety of machinery, as well as cracked cement, peeling paint, and a significant rodent problem."

Lori hears murmurs of agreement from the men seated directly behind her: Duncan, Ezra, and Percy. They know of these problems.

"Cracked cement and peeling paint?"

"Safety issues. Cracked cement can cause accidents. Men can trip, machinery can develop problems moving on an uneven surface. The paint to which I am referring is the bright yellow paint on beams and railings, designed to make them visible to workers driving forklift trucks to keep them from colliding into things."

"And the rodents?"

"Illness and disease. Workers get sick, they cannot work."

"You mentioned forklift trucks just a moment ago," Liam says. What can you tell us about forklift #2?"

"That truck, in its current state, should be sidelined and used for parts. Had it been properly and routinely maintained, it would be fine. Mr. Johnson already described the issues that truck has. I do not need to re-state them."

"So his statements were accurate? The… bad steering and brakes, bald tires, faulty hydraulics?"

"Yes. And it was also spewing black smoke from its exhaust."

"Your honor, I should point out that Jack Aredian's report of his findings is limited to just the warehouse. He did not venture into the factory, though I would recommend he be allowed to do so in the near future."

"Mmm," Rodor answers noncommittally, still looking at the report.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Aredian. I have nothing further," Liam says. He sits and takes a long drink of his water.

"Mr. Boudreaux?" Rodor asks, lifting his eyes to where Alfred is sitting, looking somewhat uneasy.

The judge looks over to see Aredian staring at Alfred. Just staring, not glaring or doing anything menacing.

But it even gives Judge Rodor the creeps. "Mr. Boudreaux, would you care to cross-examine?"

he repeats, a little louder now.


"No," Boudreaux squeaks.

Judge Rodor glances at the clock and sighs.

"All right, folks. It's Friday, and it's past 4:30.

Ain't nothing goin' to be done in the next half hour. We will adjourn for the weekend and reconvene Monday, nine a.m."

stephenGee12:
See all of u mouth.
Nnenna don't mind dem love both the story and u :Ddont mind me dat I did nt ask after u ooo. Hope all problems been resolved.
Evajael hope u ave updated . Before I ccchange it for u

ooh have not forgotten you stephengee12 hope you ate well too

Ezra's turn is next, and Lori finds she is very nervous for him.

"I hope he does okay," she leans over and whispers to Rob as Ezra makes his way up.

"I'm so worried about him."

"We recommended a psychiatrist to him," Rob tells her. "If we win, he should get a part of the settlement as well. Alined should pay for Ezra's therapy."

Lori stares at him, struck by his thoughtfulness. She smiles at him, and he feels her smile burrowing into his heart and making itself comfortable.

Liam starts much the same way with Ezra. Full name, his position at the warehouse.

"Ezra, I know you have been struggling since Tom's death, but would you be so kind as to tell us what happened that day?"

"Yessuh," Ezra nods. His voice is soft, and the courtroom goes completely silent as he starts to talk.

"I just took a pallet to the row where Duncan tole me. Was makin' my way back to the truck, and let me tell you, it wa'n't easy. I turn the wheel left, it go straight. I hit the brakes, it don't stop. 'Fore I knew it, I was headin' down the wrong aisle with the forks stuck half up. I seen Tom ahead of me, checkin' another pallet, and I right away knowed he was trapped."

Ezra pauses, swallowing hard.

"Can you continue, Mr. Johnson?"

He nods. "I stomped on them brakes like they was a big ol' spider. I tried turnin' the wheel, but there was nowhere I could go and… the truck don't stop…"

He closes his eyes, squeezing them shut, and when he opens them again he looks at Lori and sees her dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief.

"In the end I just put my hands over my eyes. I thought about jumpin' from the truck but I knew I'd get hurt, too, if I done that. The truck only stopped when it hit the wall. Tom was stuck between the truck and the wall. One o' the forks, it… it went right through him…" his voice breaks off and he wipes at one of his eyes. "I kilt him. I'm sorry, Miss Lori, you know I am, but I couldn't…"

"It's all right, Ezra," Liam says quietly. "Miss Thompson has already stated that she does not hold you responsible."

Ezra nods, and he looks at Lori again. Her eyes are red but she is attempting to smile encouragingly at him.

"Did you sustain any injuries in this accident, Mr. Johnson?" Liam asks.

"Some bruises, mainly."

"And?" he presses.

"Nightmares."

"Objection, your honor. A nightmare is not an injury," Alfred huffs.

"Mr. Winters?"

"Recent research states that mental trauma after an accident such as this should indeed be considered an injury. Mr. Johnson suffered great mental trauma, as you can plainly see, and these nightmares are a manifestation of this."

"Overruled, Boudreaux."

Liam changes direction. "What can you tell us about this faulty forklift truck, Ezra? When you are able."

Ezra takes a deep breath, wipes at his eyes again, and speaks again. "We have two forklift trucks in the warehouse. One o' them works pretty well, and the other one, well, we'd gone to flippin' a coin to see who had to drive it each day."

"What was wrong with it?"

"Um, the brakes was goin'. The steerin' was…" he searches for the right word, "unpredictable.

Tires bald. The hydraulics, what makes the forks go up and down? They was startin' to malfunction. The forks would get stuck."

"Would they get stuck in any particular place?

All the way up? All the way down?"

"No. We never could tell where they was gon' get stuck. Oh, and every once in a while there'd be this squealin' noise comin' from somewhere."

"So quite a few things, then," Liam says, nodding. "And requests were made for service?"

"Yessuh. Still waitin' on the maintenance people to come."

"You have no on-site maintenance?"

"No. Mr. Alined got rid of the one we had when he took over. Said we didn't need them and he'd hire in men when we needed things fixed."

"And did you ever see any of these hired maintenance men?"

"Once or twice. It's been two years since I last saw one, I reckon."

"Thank you Ezra, I know this has been difficult for you. I have no further questions." Liam goes to his seat, silently praying that Ezra can hold it together through Boudreaux's questioning.

Judge Rodor looks at Alfred. "Your witness, Boudreaux."

Alfred does something surprising then. "I don't believe I'm gonna ask this witness any questions, your honor."

Liam and Rob look at each other across Lori, puzzled. Ezra visibly relaxes.

Then Boudreaux continues. "No point in questioning the mentally unstable."

"Of course," Rob mutters. "Asshole."

"You may step down, Mr. Johnson," Rodor says. "That was very…" Lori says quietly.

"Go ahead and say it Loretta," Rob says.

"Shitty," she finishes.

"Atta girl," he nods. Then he glances over her at Liam. "And now, for our next trick?"

Liam stands again. "Prosecution calls Jack Aredian, your honor."

"Shit." From the other side of the aisle, Liam smirks as he just barely hears Alfred curse under his breath.

TBC later

EvaJael:
Please be fast

so you guys still want to chain me. OK

EvaJael:
Awwww...thanks for the dedication dear. I almost love you more than my snickers chocolate

yea i know you still love your Snickers chocolate bar more than me like who wouldn't.

Liam finishes his opening remarks, then Duncan takes the stand. He is sworn in and sits, folding his hands in front of him to keep them still. He does not look at Alined, as he has been instructed.

"Would you state your full name please?" Liam asks.

"Duncan Isaiah Matthews."

"And what is your job at Alined Paper?"

"I oversee the loading dock in the warehouse."

"What does that involve, exactly?"

"I take care of the shipments what comes in, checkin' that what's unloaded matches the invoice – the sheet that tells what's s'posed to be on the truck. I tells the other men where to put the supplies. On the shipments that goes out, I tells the men where to find the order and make sure that what's loaded matches the order."

"So you have a fair amount of responsibility there," Liam comments.

"Yessuh."

"How long have you been with the company?"

Liam asks, consciously choosing his words carefully.

"Ten year."

"Hmm. But Alined Paper has only been in existence for eight years…"

"Yessuh. Before that it was Blue Mountain Paper."

"So you worked for Blue Mountain Paper for two years before Eugene Alined took over, is that correct?"

"Yessuh," Duncan nods.

"And Blue Mountain Paper was owned by a mister… Hank Powell," he says, consulting a sheet of paper. Mainly for show. He knows exactly who and what and why.

"Mr. Powell, yes," Duncan nods again.

"And eight years ago, Mr. Alined purchased the company from Mr. Powell, is that correct?" Liam asks.

"Not really, sir, no."

"Care to explain?"

"Well, the public word is that it was a straight purchase. But everyone knowed that Mr. Powell had a bit of a problem when it came to playin' cards."

"Continue."

"Well, his last day, he come in stinkin' o' gin, spoutin' off about how he lost his whole company to this… beggin' your pardon… ugly, cheatin' bastard. Then he started cryin', sayin' that he was sorry that we's gonna have such a bad boss."

"Objection, your honor," Alfred Boudreaux speaks up for the first time now. "How is this relevant?"

Judge Rodor looks questioningly at Liam.

"My witness is giving background on the general work environment at Alined Paper, specifically in the warehouse. Explaining the workplace atmosphere."

"Overruled, for the moment. But you'd better get to your point soon, Mr. Winters," Rodor says.

"And what happened when Mr. Alined took over?" Liam asks.

Duncan furrows his brow a moment. "Not much. That is to say, things stopped happenin'. We had orders goin' out, shipments comin' in, but we was all feelin' like we was treadin' water.

Doin' lots o' work and gettin' nowhere, you see."

"Not very rewarding," Liam nods. "And what can you tell us about Paul Baker?"

"He was the old warehouse manager, before Mr. Andersen. Left all sudden-like in the middle of the day about a year and a half ago."

"Do you know why he left?"

"Yessuh. He wa'n't quiet about it nohow. He slammed out o' the office, spoutin' off things like… excuse my language again, please… 'cheap asshole' and 'this place is gon' fall down inside o' two year' and 'someone's gon' get killed.'

Then he stormed out."

"And what were these colorful comments in reference to?"

"Well, things break down and need fixin'. I sees the things that need fixin', and I tells the boss.

He fills out a form and gives it to the big boss.

But nothin' was gettin' fixed. Mr. Baker got to the end of his rope, I reckon."

"How long was it before Percy Andersen arrived?"

"Five, six months. We had all been thinkin' that Tom Thompson was goin' to be made manager.

He'd been kinda runnin' things durin' that time.

Then one day Mr. Alined brings Mr. Andersen in, announces that he's our new manager, and leaves."

"Was Tom upset?"

"No. He was the only one who didn't think he'd be put in charge o' the warehouse," Duncan says, chuckling a little. He meets Lori's eye and she smiles fondly at him, understanding completely. "And Mr. Andersen has proved to be a good boss, so after a month or so we stopped bein' difficult." Duncan grins a little now and sees Percy sitting in the crowd, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Does Mr. Andersen submit the repair requests you give him?" Liam asks.

"Yessuh, he does. I knows he does," Duncan nods.

"And do the repairs get done?"

"No. That's somethin' that hasn't changed."

"I see. What can you tell us about Tom Thompson? Was he a good worker?" Liam steers the testimony in a slightly different direction.

"Yessuh. Like I said, we's all expectin' that he was gon' be our boss. He'd been there as long as me. Little longer, actually. Always on time, followed the rules, and made sure we all followed them, too. Everyone liked him. Had a… a way about him. Tom could tell you you did somethin' wrong and you'd find yourself wanting to thank him for correctin' you." He glances at Lori again. She is looking a little wistful now, thinking of her father.

"Never did anything… reckless or dangerous?" Liam asks.

"Never. I don't think he would even think of it. Even when we was, um, breakin' in Boss – Mr. Andersen, I mean – he was always tryin' to get us to go easy on him."

"So then, the events of September 18, then… he wasn't behaving recklessly or in an unsafe manner?"

"No. He was just doin' his job, same as Ezra Johnson was just tryin' to do his."

"How would you classify what happened that day?"

Duncan takes a breath. "It was a terrible accident that wouldn't have happened if the repairs had been seen to on that forklift truck."

"Thank you, Mr. Matthews, I have nothing further," Liam says and sits.

"Mr. Boudreaux?" Judge Rodor turns to Alfred.

Alfred stands and saunters over towards the witness stand. "Mr. Matthews, how is it you seem to know so much about my client's acquisition of Blue Mountain Paper?"

"Well, sir, it's like I said. Mr. Powell came in and pret' much tole us that Mr. Alined done won it off him in a poker game."

"You also said that Mr. Powell stank of gin at the time."

"Yessuh. He was drunk at the time."

"So you believed his drunken ravings?"

"Anyone that's been around anyone who's had a few too many could prob'ly tell you that the drink makes a person more honest than they normally would be."

"Sounds like you know something about liquor," Alfred says, insinuation clear in his voice.

Duncan glances at Liam and Rob, remembering Leon's words. "If he's resortin' to trickery, that means he doesn't have a case." They do not look worried, so he answers. "I have had a drink or two in my day, but so have half the people in this courtroom, I reckon."

"But especially you," Alfred says. He produces a sheet of paper. "Police records. You've had some tangles with the law due to your taste for alcohol, Mr. Matthews."

Duncan lifts his chin, refusing to be baited. "If you look at those reports, sir, you'll see that the most recent charge was fifteen year ago. I haven't touched a drop since then and I never will again."

Alfred's eyes flash briefly, then, and Duncan can't quite gauge the emotion. He knows it's anger, but he's not exactly sure of the reason. "I have nothing further," he snaps, sitting.

Apparently that was his only card for this hand, and it was trumped before he could even play it.

"Is this all right?" Lori asks outside the courtroom. She is dressed in a simple lavender sleeveless dress with a matching pillbox hat on her head. Her hair is gathered into a very dignified bun at her nape.

"Perfect," Rob smiles. "Mrs. Kennedy would be envious."

"Stop," she tells him, but she is smiling despite herself.

"Ready?" he asks just as Liam joins them.

"No," she answers, the smile slipping from her face. "Let's go."

"Where's Elliot?" Rob asks.

"He'll be here. Trial starts at two; he'll be here at 1:59," she sighs. The three of them walk into the courtroom, Liam in the lead, followed by Lori and then Rob.

"Is this all right?" Lori asks outside the courtroom. She is dressed in a simple lavender sleeveless dress with a matching pillbox hat on her head. Her hair is gathered into a very dignified bun at her nape.

"Perfect," Rob smiles. "Mrs. Kennedy would be envious."

"Stop," she tells him, but she is smiling despite herself.

"Ready?" he asks just as Liam joins them.

"No," she answers, the smile slipping from her face. "Let's go."

"Where's Elliot?" Rob asks.

"He'll be here. Trial starts at two; he'll be here at 1:59," she sighs. The three of them walk into the courtroom, Liam in the lead, followed by Lori and then Rob.

"Hello?" Rob answers his phone Thursday night. It's nearly nine, and his phone rarely rings this late.

"Rob?"

"Loretta," he says, smiling.

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"It's not even nine," Rob says. Then he grins into the phone. "I'm allowed to stay up till eleven if I eat all my dinner, you know."

"Don't be usin' my own words against me, now, Superman," she snaps back, but he can hear the smile in her voice.

I'm beginning to love it when she calls me that. "What's on your mind?"

She pauses. "I'm scared."

"I know," he says. "I am, too."

"You are?"

"Scout's honor."

"Why should you be scared?"

"Lots o' reasons. I'm scared 'cause this is my first big trial, even though Liam's doin' most of the work now. I'm scared 'cause I don't know what kind of shit Boudreaux is goin' to try and pull. And most of all, I'm scared 'cause if we fail, then I'll have failed you, Loretta, And I don't think I could live with that."

"That's a lot to be scared of," she says after a moment, choosing file his last statement under Deal With that Later. "I'm mostly scared for Duncan and Ezra. Especially Ezra. I think he should talk to someone. Like a doctor or somethin'. And I know you said that you weren't going to call me to the stand, but what if Boudreaux does?"

"Then you go up there and be your normal charming and beautiful self, and most importantly, do not let him make you nervous."

"I wish you wouldn't say things like that," Lori says quietly.

"Like what?"

"You said I was charming and beautiful." "Well, you are."

"Even if that's true, I wish you wouldn't."

"Sorry."

"I mean, thank you, but… it just does funny things to me when you say things like that," she admits.

"And the last thing you need right now is more stress," Rob realizes. "I don't mean to… make you uncomfortable. I'm sorry. I'll try to… rein it in."

"I don't know if I should say thank you or tell you not to."

"Well, I don't even realize I'm doin' it most of the time, so I can't really make any promises," Rob says.

Lori just sighs, and Rob can tell if it's a sigh of contentment or exasperation.

"Is Elliot coming tomorrow?"

"I think so. He ain't home right now."

"He goes out a lot."

"I think he doesn't like bein' home because it reminds him of Daddy. His absence is very loud for him, I think."

"Are all of Tom's things still there?"

"Some. We gave his clothes to Duncan to give out to anyone who needed them at the warehouse. I told Elliot he should redecorate, or at least move the furniture around. Make the place his now."

"That's good advice," Rob nods.

"Yeah, but honestly I don't know if I'd be able to make that step myself.

It's easy for me to sit up here in my own space and tell him what he should do, but if I was in his place, would I be any better, I wonder?"

Rob smiles sadly. "You're very smart, Loretta."

"Stop complimenting me, Rob."

"Sorry."

"I should let you go. Sleep well."

"You, too. Try to get some rest, Loretta."

Dream of me.

Am dedicating this one to queenitee, evajael, creeza, amenaghwon and docmisstreasure.


9

"Robert Carter."


"Mr. Carter? My name is Keith Godwin.


I
was given a somewhat illuminating message
yesterday…"


"Ah, yes, Mr. Godwin. I have some information
that you might find very illuminating," Rob
says, leaning back in his chair.


"What are your
plans for this weekend, may I ask?"


Over lunch, Rob's phone rings again. "Robert
Carter," he answers, his mouth full of
hamburger.


"Rob?" Percy's hesitant voice greets him.


Rob swallows. "Sorry. Been eatin' lunch in my
office these days, since that's usually when you
or Loretta calls me. You caught me with a
mouth full o' burger."


"Sorry," Percy chuckles. "I got 'em.


Waited till
Alined went to lunch, since he always goes out
on Wednesdays, and they were right where he
said they'd be."


"And they're how we expect?"


"Yup."


"Good. Oh, I got called back this morning."


"Really?"


"Mmm-hmm. Everything's all set. You're safe."


"Thank you, Rob, really. I was pretty worried,
you know."


"I know. Call your mama tonight, Percy."


"I'll do that."


TBC

yea i know its being long. Am sorry i really apologize. Something happened in the family and i had to step aside from social network for a while. Am back now updates comes up tomorrow. Thanks to those who asked of me. yes y'all know its unlike me

ok am back let me start from where i stopped. I know its gonna be a long ride. well done evajael

Creeza:
Sorry for the missed updates.

Honestly I'm apologising . it would be so bad if I don't drop a comment .

And I see love blooming even in times of trouble ,between Rob and Lori.

Nnnena I know you want to show us what is happening in the scene but sometimes there is a little confusion in my head when am reading some parts .

like this " Saying nothing, she puts her hand in his and allows him to pull her to her feet and slowly, gently, carefully into his arms. He places his arms around her narrow back, one near her shoulder, one just above her waist."

I understand the events are in the present; but most of these lines are actions and as such should come clean as single sentences.

okay lemme try something for a change.

" She said nothing and puts her hand in his "

* Notice the "She said nothing " already happened as a single deliberate act but it's too short to make sense so we added "and ".

" She said nothing and puts her hand in his . She allows him to pull her up ( remove the feet and also the and ) slowly ; gently but carefully into his arms. He places his arms round her narrow back. One near her left shoulder ( show precision ) and the other arm a little above her waistline "

I hope this picture is clear to you.

I'm just being a good reader and taking observations. But nevertheless , keep up the good work and keep writing.

You are talented and I love your use of English.

i do understand dear. i would make sure i change

They pull up to Lori's house over an hour later and see something amiss immediately. Vaguely Rob notices a lone figure running away and disappearing

"Oh, dear Lord," Lori says, her voice shaky.

Rob stares for a moment at the two ugly red words spray painted across the front of her house. Movement catches his attention and he nearly leaps from his car, his sharp eyes fixed on another car, driving away at a suspiciously fast speed.

Lori is out now, too, still shaken. Rob turns to her, says, "I need to use your phone now, " and starts running towards the house. Rob high-tails it behind him, and as she comes up the steps, he stops her. "Be careful, Loretta, there's glass all over up here."

Lori looks and sees that her windows have been broken as well. Numb, she fishes her keys out and hands them to Rob with trembling hands, not trusting herself to fit the key into the lock.

Rob ushers her in inside, wandering through to the kitchen. He picks up the phone and dials a number from memory, fingers spinning the dial as fast as they can.

"Jim," he says after a moment, "Robert Carter. I need you to put an APB out on a car immediately. A battered blue 1960 Plymouth Belvidere with a bad muffler and a broken tail light, license plate starts with the numbers 256."

He pauses, waiting while the police officer relays the information. "Oh, sorry, 10th and Roosevelt, heading east on Roosevelt."

"What? Don't worry about that. Just tell them."

"Vandalism," he declares, "pretty certain he spray painted some hateful words on a fr— I mean a client's house. Broke a couple windows, too."

He almost called me his friend just there, Lori notes absently.

"Jim, if you catch him now, you'll get him while he still has paint on his hands and empty spray cans in his trunk. Call me when you get him."

Rob looks at Lori, his face a question. She quickly scribbles a number on a scrap of paper and passes it across the table to him.

"555-7231," he says, then hangs up.

He sits at the table beside Lori. "I'm sorry," he says quietly, reaching for her hand, then retracting it.

"It's not your fault, Rob," she says, sighing shakily.

"Where's your brother?"

"Out," she shrugs. "Lord only knows." Her face is closed, tight, her eyes wide and glassy.

"Loretta, you can let it out," he says, his voice impossibly soft. "It's only me. You don't have to be brave for me."

"I… I just… I don't… I never … just, why?" she says, her mind a jumble of confused thoughts.

"I don't ever presume to understand the actions of others," Rob says. "One thing I learned quickly when I joined my dad's practice. They'll get him, Loretta. And if it doesn't have anything to do with your case, I'll… I'll eat that dishtowel." He points to a plaid towel hanging neatly on the oven door.

Lori smiles a weak smile and wraps her arms around herself, suddenly cold in the warm night.

In the distance, they hear a police siren, and Rob makes a decision. He stands and reaches his hand down to her, much like he did the first time they met. Lori stares at it, and then at him.

"May I?" he asks. His voice is calm and polite, a true southern gentleman, but his eyes are pleading with her.

Saying nothing, she puts her hand in his and allows him to pull her to her feet and slowly, gently, carefully into his arms. He places his arms around her narrow back, one near her shoulder, one just above her waist.

Lori is tense at first, but then the dam breaks.

One sob escapes, then two, and she melts into his chest, her fingers curling into the material of his shirt as she cries. Ron wishes he could do more. The fingers of his right hand twitch, wanting to move up and plunge themselves into her soft curls, to cradle her head against his chest while she weeps.

"Shh, it will be all right. We'll fix it, I promise," he whispers, fighting the urge to place his cheek on the top of her head, to breathe in her honeysuckle fragrance.

They stand together for several long moments, Lori allowing herself to be soothed by Rob's embrace.

I've never felt so safe, she realizes, and the realization gives her pause. She looks up at him now to find him gazing down at her, his face worried and, she realizes, a little angry as well.

Is he angry for me? "Rob," she whispers, suddenly acutely aware of how close he is, how warm and comforting. "He's not entirely wrong, Loretta. I have lost whatever shred of objectivity I had when it comes to you." His words drift back into her mind as her eyes meet his for a moment before dropping unbidden to rest on his lips.

"I care for you more than I should."

Lori's own lips part as she tries to find some air in the kitchen, and she realizes that she is lifting up on tiptoe, bringing her face closer to his, just as he is lowering his head to hers.

The harsh ringing of the phone snaps them back to earth and Rob releases her, clearing his throat awkwardly, so she can answer the phone. He looks at his shoes and rakes his hand through his hair. She swipes her hand across her face, wiping away the remnants of her tears.

"Hope that's the police," she mutters, smoothing her dress nervously. "Hello? Yes, one moment."

She hands the phone to Rob, turning to the cabinet to get some glasses and some distance.

"Jim," Rob says immediately. "All right," he says, nodding. Lori looks at him and he smiles. "Got him," he tells her.

"Who? Even better! This will only help the case I'm working on now. Get him to talk. Find out who put him up to it."

"Yes, I'm sure someone did, and I probably know who. Send a copy of the report to my office tomorrow. And don't let that son of a bitch out, even if Alined brings a wheelbarrow full of money to the station."

Alined? Lori thinks, setting two glasses of sweet tea on the table for them.

"What? No, actually. Leave him. I may be able to twist this to our advantage."

"Thanks, Jim. I owe you one. What? Oh, then we're square, ain't we?" he says, hanging up the phone.

"Dennis Trickler," Rob declares, turning back to Lori. "Name should be familiar."

"Of course. Daddy always said he was a right pain in the… well, you know. And other choice phrases that are not fit to be said by a lady."

"Alined's little toady. No doubt acting on Big Boss Man's orders. Trying to scare you away."

Lori picks up a glass and passes it to Rob.

"Thank you," he says and drinks. "Good Lord, this is the best sweet tea I've ever had. What do you do to it?"

"That'd be tellin'," she says, smiling now.

"There. A smile. That's what I like to see. Tell you what: I'll have my dad get his people over here first thing tomorrow morning to paint over that ignorant mess and fix your windows. Least we can do."

"Thank y—"

"What the Bleep? " Elliot's angry roar greets them now, followed by the slam of a screen door.

"Lori! Lori, you here? You all right?" he shouts, storming back.

"Back here, Elliot," she calls.

Elliott appears in the doorway, his face a mask of rage. He sees Rob sitting at his table, drinking sweet tea, and it pulls him up short.

"What the hell is he doing here?"

"Oh, so suddenly the front of the house is less important?" Lori snaps, saying a silent prayer of thanks that Elliot didn't arrive five minutes earlier. At least we've had time to recover from… whatever that was.

"What happened?" he asks.

"Rob gave me a ride home and when we got here, that greeted us," she says, handing him her tea and going to fix herself another.

"Gave you a ride home from where?" he asks suspiciously.

"We were discussing the case at Gareth's," Rob supplies. It's not a complete truth, but it's not a complete lie, either. "I told you my father gave it to Liam without my knowledge," he reminds Elliot, who looks away guiltily. "But one crisis at a time, here," Rob says. "The police have got the vandal and his actions are only going to help our case against Alined."

"Huh? How's that?"

"If I was a bettin' man, I'd wager that Alined is responsible for the new paint job outside."

"And the broken windows," Lori supplies. "It was Trickler, Elliot."

"That piece of cracka shit," Elliot mutters, taking a long drink of his tea.

"Accurate description," Rob says, and Elliot actually laughs. "And, so you and I are clear, I am still working on your case. And so is Liam. I talked to Pop, and I talked to Loretta, and we cleared everything up." He glances at Lori now and she meets his eye for a very brief moment before looking at her brother.

"If Rob hadn't been here, they wouldn't have gotten Trickler," she tells him. "He spotted the car, even got some of the license plate number.

How did you do that?" she asks Rob.

"Do what?"

"Get such a good description of the car. I would have gotten as far as 'blue,' and maybe the broken tail light."

Ron shrugs. "Street lights help. I know cars. And I pay attention. You have to in my line of work."

"Thank you," Elliot mutters, reaching his hand out now. Rob takes it and shakes it briefly. "We cool?" he asks.

"We cool," Elliot says. He looks towards the front of the house. "But now I gotta fix that," he sighs.

"Um, Rob said he'd have some men come over in the morning to take care of it," Lori says softly.

"Why? I can take care of my house!" Elliot protests.

"Elliot, we can't afford for you to stay here and fix our house when you should be out working payin' jobs," Lori says.

"My father has people. They'll have this mess gone in less than a day. After I take some pictures for evidence, of course," Rob says. "I know you are capable of doing it, Elliot. But this vandalism was a direct result of our investigations, so…"

"I don't want to be beholdin' to no man," Elliot says.

"You won't be. We're simply fixin' what we caused."

Lori smiles into her glass. He is smart, I'll give him that. Almost as smart as he is handsome.

She lets that last thought sink in for a moment, wondering where it came from. She stares into her tea, watching the ice cubes swirl as she jostles her glass. Then she yawns.

"Goodness, it's late, isn't it?" Rob says. He drains his glass and stands, setting the glass in the sink. "I should go."

"I'll walk you out," Lori says, setting her glass on the counter to usher him to the door.

"Thank you again, Rob. I don't know what I would have done if I had come home to find this alone, or, God forbid, if I had been here when it happened."

"You would have called the police and then you would have called me," Rob states authoritatively.

"Always so sure about everything, ain't you, Superman?" Lori shakes her head, smiling a little.

"Not always," he answers, his voice in that soft, low timbre again.

"Rob…"

"We don't need to talk about it Loretta," he says. "Nothing happened."

"Because the phone rang."

"So you would have let me…?"

Lori closes her eyes and nods, unable to look at his face when it looks so open and vulnerable like it does right now. She hears him sigh, almost a groan. She imagines he runs his hand through his soft blonde hair again.

"I'll be back in the morning to take pictures," he finally says.

She opens her eyes again. "All right."

"You're okay? You'll be all right tonight?"

"Yes," she says with a sigh. "I tell you, the least he could have done is spelled it correctly," she says dryly. "'Uppity' has two Ps."

Rob chuckles now and fights the very strong urge to pull her back into his arms. "There's my girl," he mutters quietly. Then he turns on his heel and almost runs down the steps and to his car.