THE ALARM CLOCK went off at five o’clock, and I woke up in a sweat, reliving the bizarre dreams that had roiled my sleep. I knew if I rolled over, I might sleep through the entire morning. The warm shower felt good, especially on my pitching arm. Then I heard the door to my bedroom open and close quietly. My heart stopped. It’s over. They’re here. They got past security, and it’s all over. I stood under the spray, waiting to face my killer.
To my relief and pleasant surprise, it was Micki. She wore only a long white terry-cloth robe, which she let drop to the floor. She carefully stepped into the shower, then her lips were on mine, and she backed me against the tile wall. We kissed deeply, our hands at each other’s faces. The hot water poured down between the closing space between us, then down our faces and necks and backs.
Fulfilled, we remained in each other’s arms. She kissed me sweetly, and said, “There is magic in your shower after all.”
Just when I thought she was leaving, she reached for the bar of soap and lathered my body from top to bottom, then handed me the soap. I repeated the favor, and we rinsed and toweled each other off, but instead of putting on her robe, she led me by the hand back into bed. We were both a little less hungry this time and explored each other more slowly until we satisfied each other again.
I still hadn’t said a word. I leaned back on my pillow, and after we caught our breath, Micki rolled over, put her head on my chest, and said, “Every law partnership should begin this way.” She smiled and reached up to kiss me. “For a second there I thought you weren’t going to let me in the shower.”
She laughed when I told her who I thought she was. Then she got a stern look on her face. “Don’t get serious on me now.”
I must have looked confused because she kissed me again and said, “You know, you’re sweet, but you’re already getting way too serious and worrying about feelings, and what about Sam, and we’re business partners and all that. It’s only sex, Jack. Now all that tension between us is gone.” She put her head back on my chest, wrapped a leg around mine, and said, “It’s okay. Last night I saw you looking at me, and I bet because of some old-fashioned thinking on your part, you didn’t act. I’m glad I did.” She kissed me yet again and then climbed over me with those long legs.
“Too bad we have to go to work—you look like you’re ready to go another round.” She slid off the bed, put on her robe, and left the room.
I LINGERED IN bed for a minute, wishing I could relive every second, but that wasn’t going to do Woody any good. I took another shower, colder this time, got dressed, and headed to the kitchen. Bea was frying sausage and adding flour and milk to the drippings to make gravy for the biscuits baking in the oven. If she kept cooking like this, we were all going to have to start running marathons.
Micki walked in and whispered, “If you don’t stop grinning, Beth’s gonna get suspicious.”
She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down on a stool to watch Bea make the gravy as if I weren’t even in the room. Limiting myself to a biscuit wrapped around sausage with a little grape jelly, I opened the back door and wandered outside. I found myself on the spot where I’d been pitching to Jeff last night.
The grass was worn where I’d planted my foot. I went through my pre-pitch ritual—getting the signal, gripping the ball—and into the wind-up. It didn’t feel quite right. Maybe because I had on dress shoes and my starched dress shirt restricted my movement. But something else bothered me. … I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
Soon, we were all ready to leave for court. The house and grounds were crawling with security personnel. Clovis was taking no chances. We had just left the house and were following Clovis out to the Tahoe when I realized what was wrong. I stopped dead in my tracks.
“Stop, everybody stop.” I didn’t yell, but in a voice loud enough to be heard, I asked, “Clovis, did you move the Tahoe last night?”
Clovis stopped, and when he turned back to me, I had my answer. Clovis hadn’t, but someone else had.
We hurried back inside, congregating nervously by the front door. Clovis was outside bellowing orders into his Bluetooth. While we waited, I told everyone about pretending to pitch this morning and that something was nagging me—something not quite right.
“Yesterday, Jeff set up maybe fifty feet in front of Clovis’s car. Initially, I was worried I might blow one past him and smash a window. As I got comfortable, I quit worrying. The Tahoe was just a backdrop. This morning, it wasn’t until we walked to the car that I realized it was no longer in my line of sight from the makeshift pitcher’s mound.”
Clovis came in. “Jack, if you ever decide to get out of the law business, you’ll always have a place in mine. The car was moved last night, probably to get it out from under the security light. I’ve called—”
Suddenly, there was a deafening explosion that shook the whole house. We all dove for cover as pieces of the Tahoe flew through the air, a few slamming into the house. We watched in shock and silence as the remains of the truck burned. Even Clovis had nothing to say.
I was so mad I couldn’t see straight. I got right in his face, barking orders.
“Clovis, I’ve had enough of this! We’ve got to get out of here! Call the police and find us a new location. It’s not your fault, but you can’t protect us here, and it’s not fair to Micki. Micki, call the clerk and Sam. Nobody goes outside until the police come.”
Clovis didn’t move a muscle. Everyone just stared at me, and I knew I had to get a grip. I took a deep breath, apologized, and pulled Clovis aside.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t … I do trust … Look, can you keep everyone safe while I go to the courthouse?”
His eyes widened. “You still want to go to court?”
“Hell, yes. Finishing this case, win or lose, is the only way I know to put a stop to these attacks. Delaying only increases the danger.”
Maggie strode across the room and grabbed my hand.
“You’ve never walked into a courtroom without me. I hope you’re not thinking about doing it now. Micki and I are coming with you. It will all be in chambers today, so there’s no need for Beth and Jeff to come, or Helen either for that matter. Surely security, the police, and the ATF are enough to keep the big bad wolf away while we’re gone. Let Clovis’s team do their job and let’s go do ours.”
Clovis nodded. “First I gotta find us a new car.” I gave him a thumbs-up, and everyone relaxed a little.
While we waited for another SUV to arrive, Clovis said, “How’d you pick up on the moved car? They sure didn’t move it much.”
I told him the best target for a pitcher is a catcher’s mitt. The first backdrop behind the mitt is the catcher’s chest protector, which is ideally a solid field of dark blue or black. Last evening, the black Tahoe made a perfect backdrop behind Jeff. I could focus on his mitt without distraction. This morning it had been moved far enough that the backdrop had become pasture, horses, and trees.
“It’s like when you play an away game. Sometimes, the home team puts a pretty girl behind the plate, hollering and waving her arms. You watch on TV next time, and I’ll bet you see a wild-looking blonde right behind home plate.”
Maggie looked skeptical.
Clovis said, “I thought the blonde … well, whatever … I’m sure glad you were wide awake this morning.”
“Must have been the shower.” I felt a firm punch on my arm.