It Should Be a Crime (11 page)

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Authors: Carsen Taite

BOOK: It Should Be a Crime
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“Sorry, I’m impossibly rude before caffeine. Kelsey James, I’d like you to meet my…friend, Morgan Bradley. Morgan, this is one of my roommates, Kelsey James.” Glancing back and forth between the two, Parker asked, “Better?”

Morgan shook Kelsey’s outstretched hand, murmuring, “Nice to meet you.” Despite the polite veneer, Parker sensed Morgan’s desire to crawl under a rock rather than be seen so obviously dressed in clothes from the day before. She shot a look at her, willing Kelsey to get the picture and exit gracefully. She did exit, though not gracefully.

“As much as I would love to have a leisurely breakfast with you two, I better get going. Morgan, it was good to meet you. Maybe next time we’ll have time to talk. I’m a great source for intel on your breakfast partner.” With a wicked smile, Kelsey grabbed her mug and strode out of the room, impervious to the daggers Parker was shooting her way.

“So, you have roommates,” Morgan said dryly.

“I do. Most of the time, I enjoy the company. Today, not so much.”

Morgan reached across the table, placing her hand on Parker’s. “She seems very nice. I’m sorry if I seemed unfriendly. I’m a little anxious about all I have to get done today. Would you mind taking me to my car now?”

Parker battled the disappointment away from her expression. She sensed Morgan’s desire for a quick morning-after exit had little to do with anxiety over her schedule, but she decided not to pursue the point. “At least let me get you a cup of coffee to go?”

Morgan nodded and moments later, they were speeding away in Parker’s car to the scene of their first meeting.

*

Parker nearly jumped out of her skin before she realized the noise was nothing more than someone knocking at her bedroom door. She had been studying, or at least pretending to study, since Friday evening. Now it was Sunday afternoon and she felt as though she’d accomplished nothing other than stewing in her thoughts about Morgan. “What is it?” she called out.

The door creaked upon. “Oh, so you are in here. We’ve been wondering where the hell you’ve been the past few days.” Kelsey and Erin entered the room and took up positions on Parker’s bed after they pushed aside all the books strewn on the comforter.

“I’ve been studying.”

Kelsey ventured a question. “Wanna talk?”

“Not especially, but I get the impression this isn’t about what I want. You two are up to something. What is it?”

Erin started the conversation. “Kelsey tells me you had a friend over for breakfast Friday morning.”

Friday seemed like forever ago, Parker thought. Here it was Sunday afternoon and she’d been able to think of little else since kissing Morgan good-bye at her car Friday morning. The fierce embrace they had shared signaled it was more than a “see you soon” good-bye. Since then she’d glided through Friday’s classes, resisting the urge to walk by Morgan’s office to catch a glimpse of the real person who now faded into fantasy. With the weekend almost over, she realized she hadn’t been mentally present, but had instead slipped into a weird kind of walking coma which allowed her to accomplish only routine tasks while saving her from thoughts of what might have been.

“Um, Parker? Are you in there?” Erin waved a hand in front of Parker’s face.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Wanna tell us about your hot new friend? We couldn’t help but notice she’s a repeat customer.”

Something about the connotation of the word “customer” made Parker snap. “What the hell do you mean?”

Kelsey grabbed Parker’s arm and pulled her close. “Hey, tiger, calm down. We’re not used to you seeing someone more than once. We were wondering if we should be reading bridal magazines.” Her teasing words were delivered with a gentleness designed to soothe the bristling anger Parker held below the surface. Recognizing her attempt to defuse the situation, Parker relaxed.

“Sorry, I’m having a bad day.”

“Anything we can do to help?” Erin’s question was tentative.

Parker offered a half-smile. “No, I don’t even know what’s wrong. I feel like I’m coming out of my skin. Normally, I’d work out to get rid of this feeling, but I can’t seem to muster up the energy.”

“Casey, are you sure it’s not the girl who’s got you down?” Kelsey asked.

Parker surprised herself by replying in a muffled voice, “I don’t know, maybe.”

“She’s beautiful. And, she seems very nice,” Kelsey offered.

“Oh, she’s nice and beautiful all right.” Parker looked at them, then glanced away, choosing not to see their immediate reaction at her next words. “She’s a nationally known criminal defense lawyer, TV commentator, and she also happens to be one of my professors.”

“No way!” Kelsey punched her on the shoulder. “How in the hell did you two wind up in bed together?”

“Oh, it’s over.” Parker shrugged. “I mean it has to be. We never would have hooked up if we’d known what we were getting into, but we met before school started and neither of us had any idea. Conversation wasn’t big on the list of things we shared the night we met.” Looking up, she dared them to comment on this revelation.

They both resisted, but Parker could tell by the subtle looks they exchanged when they thought she wasn’t looking that they wondered if her affair with Morgan Bradley was truly over. She knew it had to be. For Parker, who had always placed more value on the heat of the moment than the emotions she left behind, the realization was crushing.

Chapter Seven

Back East, the night air this time of year would be crisp and cool. Morgan missed the predictability of the changing seasons. Here in Dallas, the intense heat of August had boiled over into a steamy September. Green leaves clung to trees and gardeners still planted, gambling on endless sunny, warm weather since there seemed to be no cool winds in sight.

The last week of class had been as stifling as the muggy evening air. She spent hours reliving her last intimate moments with Parker, hastily saying good-bye as Parker dropped her at her car. Neither acknowledged those moments as their last, but clearly they both knew. Over the course of the last week, they resumed the roles of teacher and student and, Morgan was certain, no one suspected those boundaries had ever been pushed, let alone broken. As she walked through campus, Morgan allowed herself, for the first time, to imagine an alternate ending.

She didn’t see the lights until she was at the edge of the crowd. Pausing, she took note of the bowed heads, the signs, and the flickering flames of candles in the hands of dozens of young men and women. Vaguely, she realized it was dark outside and she wondered how long and how far she had walked, lost in thought. Rather than skirt the crowd, she stopped on the edge and listened in. The handwritten signs and scattered photos clustered on a makeshift altar made it clear this gathering was in remembrance of Camille Burke, the young graduate student who had been brutally murdered in her own home.

Public displays of affection have the effect of drawing people in. Vigils for the dead are no different. Morgan imagined she wasn’t the only one in this crowd who hadn’t known Camille Burke in life but relished the idea of knowing her now, through others’ memories and recollections. Looking in, it was possible to imagine how it would be when she was no longer alive. What would people say, what snippets of her life would they think were important, would they choose to share?

Morgan reflected on the many murder cases she had worked on over the years. Some defense attorneys refused to allow themselves any intimate connection to the victim or the victim’s family, deciding that distance allowed them to exercise their skills more effectively. Morgan, on the other hand, armed herself with knowledge about the life that had been taken. Her ability to reach beyond crime scene photos and autopsy reports often enabled her to find an explanation, if not a reason, for the death. Whether the explanation helped or harmed her client was evenly divided, but knowledge was power and Morgan looked for leverage wherever she could find it.

“Did you know her?”

Morgan recognized the voice and closed her eyes as if she could choke off the tide of emotions it evoked by cutting off at least one of her senses. She turned cautiously and, steeling herself, slowly reopened her eyes. Parker looked tired, sad, far removed from the self-assured woman she had come to know. She was overwhelmed with a desire to pull her close, wrap her in her arms, and whisper comfort. But Parker stood with her arms held tightly at her sides, not inviting. Morgan shook her head. “Did you?”

“No, I was on my way to the gym. But it’s a bit like a train wreck. Kind of hard to look away.” Parker whispered this last, either out of respect for the crowd or a desire to keep her thoughts secret between them. Morgan couldn’t tell which, but she responded by nodding, wondering what source other than grief caused Parker to look so drawn.

Words were inadequate to fill the space between them, so Morgan and Parker stood in silence with the rest of the mourners, keeping their own private vigil. An hour later, when the crowd dispersed, a glance was all that passed between them before they left to rejoin their separate worlds.

*

Morgan was startled by the ringing of the hotel phone. Other than Yolanda, the only person to call her at the hotel was Tina. Just this week, she’d stopped having the operator screen her calls once it became apparent Tina had resigned herself to their failed relationship. It had been two weeks since she’d run into Parker at the Burke vigil. Their encounters in class had been strictly professional. However, in the late-night hours, she had been able to think of little else besides Parker’s tight, beautiful body coiled around hers. As she reached for the phone, she thought
maybe.

“This is Morgan.”

“Morgan, how the hell are you?”

Morgan instantly recognized the voice of Ford Rupley, though she hadn’t talked to him in almost a year. Her initial disappointment faded into happiness of a different sort. Ford Rupley was the deputy chief public defender of Dallas County. He and Morgan had attended law school together. She felt bad she hadn’t contacted Ford since her return to Dallas. She kept meaning to, but it seemed the details of all her current life changes kept getting in the way of reconnecting with her past. “Ford! Sweetie! It’s so good to hear your voice.”

“Are you sure? I haven’t heard from you since you got back to town.” His tone was teasing, but Morgan recognized a shade of hurt beneath the surface.

“I’m still reeling from all the changes. I have a lot to report. Let’s have dinner this week and catch up. My treat. Are you still at the PD’s office?”

“How about dinner tonight,
my
treat?”

Morgan glanced down at her attire. She had planned on a cozy date with the room service menu and was dressed appropriately in silk pajamas. Much as she would have liked to catch up with Ford over dinner, she decided to gracefully postpone. She started to turn him down but was distracted by loud yelling on the other end of the phone and asked, “Where are you?”

“Lew Sterrett. Can you meet me down here?” Though it had been a while, Morgan still recalled the reference. Ford was at the Dallas County Jail.

“What the hell? You’re inviting me to dine at the jail cafeteria?”

“There’s someone here I want you to meet. We’ll eat after. Seriously, Morgan, I’ll make it worth your while. I promise.”

The excited pleading in his voice triggered Morgan to react the way she always did at the prospect of taking on a new venture. Curiosity battled comfort and won. “Give me thirty minutes. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

*

The drive downtown was quick and easy since rush hour was long over. The Lew Sterrett Justice Center was located just west of downtown, directly behind the Frank Crowley Criminal Courthouse, and was the headquarters of the Dallas County jail system. As a young attorney, Morgan had logged many hours in both of these buildings. She parked in the open lot across the street from the jail and walked through the courtyard separating the jail from the courthouse. Ford was waiting outside.

“Morgan, you look fantastic! Thanks for coming.”

“I assume at some point before I turn into a pumpkin, you’ll let me know why you summoned me.”

“Let’s sit for a minute.” Ford pointed to a low stone wall. “I want to talk to you about a very interesting case.”

“And this case must be dealt with under dark of night?”

“I’m in the middle of a capital case. This is the only time I could meet with him. I want you to work with me on his case.”

“Back up, mister. You’re still at the PD’s office, correct?” At Ford’s nod, she continued her questions. “And I assume you’ve been appointed to work on this case?”

“Correct, Counselor. Now before you start lecturing me about your standard hourly rate, all I’m asking you to do is meet the guy and hear his story. Whatever you decide after you meet him is completely up to you.”

Morgan knew it wouldn’t be so simple. Once you knew names and faces, the intrigue got under your skin. She let several seconds tick away before deciding it already had. “Okay, what the hell else do I have to do at midnight on a Wednesday night?”

“Terrific. We don’t have a lot of time, so I’ll hit the highlights and you can pick up the rest as we go.” In his traditional manner, Ford buzzed through the details. Toward the end, Morgan felt her head spinning as she tried to keep up.

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