Keep No Secrets (54 page)

"Thank you." She slips the envelope into her purse. "You could have mailed it."

"My wanting to meet is only

tangentially related to you being cleared."

"Oh?"

The waitress appears and Earl turns over his coffee cup for her to fill it.

"What's your pleasure?" he asks Jenny, nodding to the menu.

She waves the idea of food away. "I'll stick with coffee for now. I tend not to have an appetite when I'm anxious. How long will you keep me in suspense?"

"You have nothing to be anxious about." He places his own order. When the waitress leaves the table, he says,

"Have you talked to Jack lately?"

She almost laughs. Is he serious? "No."

"This is still under wraps, but I'm starting a practice and I've asked him to join me."

Jenny sets her cup into its saucer a little too hard. "Wow."

"So you really haven't talked to him."

"No, Earl, I haven't talked to him.

Anything I know about Jack's life over the past few months, I learned from the news."

In fact, except for the two text

messages, they've had nothing to do with each other since he showed up at her motel asking for the original letters.

"Did he say yes?" She's incredulous.

"You know he and Claire have split?"

Not quite an answer to her question.

"So it's been reported. I wasn't sure."

Since he hasn't called to tell me himself
. "I guess if you're telling me, it must be true."

Earl explains that Jack made the

decision to end his marriage during his trial. "They continued to share the same physical space for the rest of the trial, but he moved out not long after the

Tennessee incident, once the charges were dropped."

Jenny knows Earl isn't relaying this information for her benefit. To the contrary, she feels the full weight of his disapproval. But she puts up no defense to Earl's obvious belief that she bears a large part of the responsibility for the break-up. Like it or not, she knows he's right, even if he doesn't fully understand why. Jack had given Earl a copy of the PI report knowing he could use it to persuade Sterling to clear Jenny. When Earl showed it to her, she realized right away Earl didn't know how Jack had first come into possession of it.

"It's interesting, though," Earl says.

"He found out about the surveillance on the same day he met with
you
to get the originals of Celeste's letters." He raises one gray eyebrow.

"You think something happened when he saw me that day to cause him to go home and end his marriage?"

"Coincidence, then?"

"Except for a three word text he sent, I've not heard from him since." She raises her right hand. "I'd swear on the Bible."

He stares at her as if she's a puzzle he can't solve. It occurs to her that Earl thinks the three word text is something entirely different than the actual message sent.

"It said 'I'm okay, thanks,'" she adds.

"Not quite a marriage breaker."

"No, it doesn't sound like it. But then, why would he be telling you he's okay?"

She takes it as a rhetorical question. If it's not, she's saved from answering when the waitress delivers Earl's omelet and potatoes. He takes his time placing his napkin on his lap, seasoning the food. She still has no idea why he asked to meet with her.

"My goal is to put together a criminal defense team that will deliver a level of service unrivaled by any other firm in St.

Louis," he says, segueing back to his new venture. "I plan to keep it small, personal.

I'm thinking somewhere between three to five attorneys max, but the team I put together will be the best of the best."

"Sounds impressive," she says to humor him. "You and Jack have always made a good team."

"I'd like you to be a part of it."

His statement shocks her into silence.

When she finds her voice, she speaks one word. "Why?"

"Because you're a damn good lawyer, and I suspect you have no desire to return to Newman."

"I
was
a damn good lawyer, a
corporate
bankruptcy
lawyer, and I'm not even sure I’m that anymore, it's been so long.

Criminal law is a foreign language to me.

And—"

"You can learn to speak the language.

I'm not concerned."

"Jack won't want me there. You know that. Neither, for that matter, will Claire.

There's no way she'll like this idea."

"First, you're wrong about Jack. And I didn't say Claire
would
like it, but she accepts it. I've spoken with her. I even gave her veto power over the idea. She understands you're not going away, and that she'll have to live with you unless she goes away herself." He takes a bite of his omelet, chews leisurely, and dabs his mouth with the napkin before continuing his thought. "And I assure you, she has no intention of going anywhere. She won't hurt her kids to spite you or Jack. If there's anyone who will handle the situation with class, it's Claire. I have no doubt she'll emerge from all this stronger than ever."

Jenny wants so badly to ask him if he thinks withholding evidence is classy. She wishes she could knock Claire right off her pedestal of perfection while all of St.

Louis watches. She almost laughs at the irony, because she never had such desires before Jack knew the truth. She didn't care about hurting Claire then; she only cared about not hurting Jack. But with the reason for that motivation gone, so too is any empathy she had for Claire.

"Maybe she's wrong. Maybe I
am
going away."

"Well, then, it's my turn to ask, why?

Didn't you come back for a reason?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, Ms. Dodson, that you finally have Jack exactly where you want him. So why on Earth would you leave now?"

Jenny places her own napkin next to her cup. She pulls a twenty dollar bill from her purse, slaps it on the table, and stands. "Go to hell,
Mr.
Scanlon. I'm not the horrible person you seem to think I am."

"Did I say that?"

"Let me make something clear. Jack came to
me
the night Maxine was murdered. Go back and check the

transcript from Alex's trial and I think you'll find he admitted it under oath."

She points her finger at Earl, and the volume of her voice escalates. "So don't act like I'm some evil witch who

somehow manipulated him with my black magic. Because that's bullshit. You and everyone else in this city would like to believe that, wouldn't you, because then it's easier to forgive your beloved DA.

Blame it all on the other woman, right?

The home wrecker?"

"I think plenty of folks blamed him, too."

"Except he didn't feel compelled to leave town, did he? He kept his job, didn't he? Even his wife took him back. I willingly accept much of the blame for what happened, and I always have, but I didn't finagle events to break up his marriage, that's for sure. I know I could have told him no and I should have, but let's get one thing straight—he's as much to blame as I am, if not more. He came to me; I didn't go to him. He was married; I wasn't. And after it all happened? I'm the one who pushed him away and told him to go home where he belonged. He never told you that, did he? And then I got out of his way so he
could
go home and have a chance to repair the damage we'd caused.

Oh, and just in case you're wondering, I didn't hire Celeste to become his son's girlfriend and then accuse him of assault.

I didn't ask her to send me threatening notes. I wasn't there when Jack made the decision to drive her home and lie to his wife about it. So your little comment about 'having Jack exactly where I want him' is a crock of shit. Got it?"

During the course of her rant she leaned closer to Earl without noticing, arms straight and palms flat on the table as she hovered in front of him. She straightens back up and takes a step away to put distance between them. Only then does she realize she's shaking. A few diners stare at her.
Tough shit
. She's tired of hiding.

Earl crosses his arms and the slightest grin breaks on his face. "You can sit down now, Jenny. Interview over. The job's yours if you want it."

"Fuck your job."

He laughs, and the sound makes her even angrier. "You'll have to clean up your language, though."

She gives him her back and starts for the entrance.

"I wondered how long it would take the Jenny Dodson we all know and love to reemerge," he calls to her. "I never imagined it would take almost five years."

Another customer crosses in front of her, briefly blocking her passage. She takes the opportunity to turn around and glare at Earl. "Why don't you let yourself come home for good?" he asks. "I think you're finally ready."

His words puncture her resolve. He has no idea how often she's asked herself the same question. She knows something changed in her after she let Jack into her bed. She remembers making him promise not to treat her differently. He gave his promise, but her metamorphosis from intrepid warrior to spineless weakling made it virtually impossible for him to keep it. She ran away and in the process, gave up so much that mattered to her.

Too much.

"And what makes you think he's ready?

How come I haven't heard from him?"

"Because he's still punishing himself.

He's accepted that his marriage is over, but he hasn't accepted that he's allowed to be anything but guilt-ridden and devastated about it."

"And is he?"

"What?"

"Guilt-ridden and devastated by it?"

"Absolutely."

She lowers herself back onto the edge of the chair she abandoned, poised to bolt again if she chooses, and sighs.

"You didn't think it'd be easy, did you?" he asks.

"And you think bringing me into your partnership will help him?" She scoffs.

"You might want to run that by him first."

"Since you mention it, I
have
talked to him about you. Not in the context of the firm, mind you. He's noncommittal, which is easy to be when you're not around, but I've seen the two of you in a room together. It's only a matter of time."

"I'm not sure he
wants
to be in a room with me."

"Why don't we find out?" He pulls a piece of paper from his breast pocket and hands it across the table. "That's the address of the new offices. They're being built out as we speak. Show up tonight a little bit before five, and I'll bring Jack by to talk about it."

She reads the Clayton address written on the paper. "I don't think so, Earl. He won't like it. If he wanted to talk to me, he would have called."

"Why don't you let me worry about that? If he doesn't like it, he can be angry at me."

The waitress stops by and tops off Jenny's coffee without asking. After considering her options, she relents and adds cream. Earl half-smiles.

"You two are more alike than you realize, or want to admit," he says.

"Oh, yeah? Why's that?"

"You're both incredibly stubborn."

Jenny lowers her eyes, tries not to laugh, but does anyway when she realizes her reaction proved Earl's observation.

"Tell me, what's in it for you?" she asks, stirring slowly. "Why are you so anxious to play matchmaker, especially since you seem to think I'm just a step up from the devil?"

"I wouldn't offer you a job if I thought that."

"You haven't answered the question."

"What's in it for me? A contented partner, I suppose. He loves you, Jenny."

She stares at a crumb near his plate and then, at an elderly couple who just entered the restaurant and are waiting at the hostess stand to be seated. They hold hands.

"There are so many reasons why this is wrong."
And some you're not even aware of
.

"Maybe." He shrugs. "But there are even more why it's right."

She spends the afternoon fighting a panic attack. Her fears subside slightly when she slips on the green suit and regards herself in the mirror. It still fits well. A woman she used to know and admire looks back at her.

She eyes the lingerie she laid out on her bed, considers whether wearing it is some sort of admission of a desire she should resist. Warrior or weakling? She wore such things under this suit long before Jack, though. They were part of her arsenal, even if she was the only person who ever knew they were there.

She undresses and starts over with her own version of chain mail.

She waits alone in what will eventually be the lobby of Earl's new offices. As Earl promised, the construction workers expected her arrival a few minutes before they finished for the day. After ten minutes of flirting and trying to convince her to stop for a beer at Krueger's after her meeting, they leave her with only the sawhorse and the construction dust to keep her company. Once their trucks pull away from the curb, she gives herself a short tour.

Although the floors are stripped to the foundation and the interior walls still display studs, she easily envisions the purpose of each room once the

renovation is complete. Downstairs will be the lobby, three individual offices, a small conference room, a half bath, and a short galley kitchen. Upstairs, walls have been knocked down for what she guesses will house a modest library. Another bathroom and two more offices fill out the top floor.

Back downstairs, she sits on a stack of drywall panels. The workers left the windows cracked and the first cool breeze of autumn waltzes across the room, but she still perspires. Her mouth is dry. She licks her lips and wishes she brought a water bottle. She's sure the kitchen faucet isn't turned on yet.

She takes in the space and tries to imagine the three of them working here together. The square footage is miniscule when measured against a firm like Newman, Norton & Levine, but she knows Earl intends his new venture to be a boutique firm, and the small house on the tree-lined street a few blocks away from downtown Clayton epitomizes

boutique.

She tells herself that it wouldn't be so strange; she and Jack worked at the same firm once before. Yet with the meeting imminent, she can't bury her anxiety. The last time they stood in the same room, he was a man with an intact, albeit unstable, marriage. She was, in large part, the woman to blame. He's made no effort to contact her. Despite what Earl claims, she takes this as the clearest signal yet that Jack would rather she disappear from his life, not become further entrenched in it.