“Oh.” Bennie noticed a woman checking Declan out as they walked by. Glass storefronts cast lighted oblongs on their path, as they passed a funky store with handmade silver jewelry. Bracelets and earrings gleamed in the last light of the day, and a silver bracelet caught her eye, in passing. It was what she should’ve bought Mary, instead of the dog toy. “That’s pretty.”
“I’m not a big shopper.”
“Me, neither.”
“Anyway, I need time to deal with Richie.” Declan’s lips went tight, and he looked ahead as they walked along. “I got a referral of another lawyer from the Juvenile Law Center. They gave me the name of somebody in Kingston. He practices family law and he’s branching out into juvenile law.”
“What happened?”
“He didn’t have time to meet with Doreen, but he agreed to give her a call today and they spoke.” Declan appeared to be watching Bear, who trotted happily along, his tail pumping. The street climbed gently upward, revealing a darkening sky over the top of the mountain, with the stars waiting to shine.
“And?”
“She doesn’t want to hire him.”
“Why not?”
“She thinks he doesn’t have enough experience in juvenile law.”
“He couldn’t have less experience than I do.”
“It’s her call.” Declan’s mouth formed an unhappy dash, and Bennie wondered if Doreen wanted to keep Richie in jail for Christmas, because by insisting on an unavailable lawyer, she was virtually guaranteeing that result. But that a mother would want her son imprisoned was too awful to contemplate, much less say.
“So now what?”
“I had one other referral. I called him and he’s going to meet with Doreen tomorrow morning.”
“So maybe that will pan out.”
“We can only hope.”
“Right.” Bennie noticed an unusual building at the top of the hill, which looked like a medieval castle, surrounded by a tall stone wall made from gray and black fieldstones. A single tower pierced the darkening sky. “What’s that building?”
“The Carbon County jail.”
“Right in town?” Bennie asked, taken aback.
“It’s closed now. It’s a museum. See that?” Declan pointed to a rampart in front of the building. “The Molly Maguires were hanged there.”
“The what?”
“This was a coal-mining region. Hard coal. Anthracite. It was dirty work, and a lot of the miners were Irish. The Molly Maguires were a group of miners, Irish immigrants. They were fighting the company for better working conditions. Four of them were accused of murdering company officials. They were convicted and hanged in public, right on that rampart.”
“A public execution.” Bennie recoiled.
“Yes. But it was controversial. The murders were investigated by private police hired by the mining company. Pinkertons. The prosecutor had ties to the mining company, too.”
Bennie looked over. “So it was a way for the company to get rid of labor agitators.”
“That’s what some people say.”
“Law doesn’t always lead to justice, does it?” Bennie eyed the grim rampart.
“If you ask me, law leads to order. Not necessarily justice.”
“Why do you say that?” Bennie had never thought of it that way before.
“I arrest people every day. But somebody else decides if they get charged and prosecuted. That’s the only part of my job that I don’t like. I don’t have any say in what comes after. Any idiot can see the relationship between the number of arrests and the quality of life.”
“For the people who don’t get arrested.”
“Right, for them.” Declan nodded again. “It’s like Judge Zero Tolerance. If you lock up the bad kids, you’ll never have another Columbine. Nobody has to worry. The parents are happy. The teachers are happy. You’ll have complete order.”
“But you won’t have justice.”
“Right.”
“Well, that’s why God made appeals courts, and the Pennsylvania Superior Court is an excellent court.”
“So you’re optimistic?”
“Cautiously.”
“Good.” Declan stopped, turning to face her, his eyes newly troubled. “I went to see Richie after work. Something was off, I could tell as soon as he came into the room. He would barely talk to me. He was keeping me at a distance.”
“Why?”
“The word’s out that I’m a cop, after I visited him yesterday. A couple of thugs were giving him a hard time. They assumed I’m his father. He tried to set them right, but it doesn’t matter. A cop uncle is as bad as a cop father, inside.”
“Oh no.” Bennie felt terrible.
“I should’ve seen this coming.” Declan frowned. “It happened to a buddy of mine. His brother got locked up in Graterford, down your way. It’s tough inside for anybody with family in law enforcement.”
“Do they think Richie’s a snitch or something?”
“No.” Declan shook his head. “It’s not that rational. Anybody related to cops bears the brunt of the hate against cops.”
“Even if you had seen it coming, what would you do about it?” Bennie realized that Richie would be bullied the way he had been bullying Jason. Still, she wouldn’t have wished it on him, especially since she could see how much pain it caused Declan.
“There’s nothing to do. The cat’s already out of the bag. It’s a no-win situation.” Declan squared his shoulders. “That’s why I want him out of there, ASAP. It’s driving me crazy. I don’t know why it’s not driving Doreen crazy, too.”
Bennie hesitated. “I’m sure it is. She’s his mother.”
“If Richie were my son, I’d take any damn lawyer. I’d do anything, so he knew I was fighting for him. Like you are, for Jason.”
Bennie didn’t reply, and Declan continued, speaking from the heart.
“Doreen hasn’t even gone to visit him yet. She says she’s busy with the twins, and I know she is. But he matters, too.” Declan shook his head, plunging his hands into his pockets. “His father checked out on him. Now she is, too. I almost said it to her on the phone. I wanted to ask her, ‘what the hell are you thinking?’”
“What would she do if you said that?” Bennie could see the emotion etching fine lines into Declan’s handsome face. Maybe he didn’t always get everything he wanted. Maybe nobody did.
“Probably throw a fit. She doesn’t like it when I play big brother. She thinks I judge her.”
“Maybe if you say it in a way that’s not judgmental?”
“I don’t know how to be judgmental in a nonjudgmental way.” Declan met her eye with an ironic smile, his crow’s-feet wrinkling.
“Me neither.” Bennie’s heart went out to him, and she found herself feeling closer to him, in a real way. “I feel the same way about Jason. Both of these kids are in a terrible bind. In fact, the one thing I don’t like about my job is that I can’t always help the people I need to. I can’t always win. I can’t always get justice, and it never felt worse to me than it does in this case, with that little boy in that hellhole.”
“But he’s not even your family.” Declan blinked. “You’re his lawyer, not his mother.”
“He feels like family to me. It’s not abstract or intellectual, and you can’t parse or analyze it. It’s an emotion.”
“I get that.” Declan nodded sadly. “I swear to God, until Richie got locked up, I didn’t even know how much I loved him. He’s not an easy kid to love. But he’s blood. My blood. I taught him to ride and fish. I was there when he was a baby. Now he’s sitting in jail with gangbangers who hate him because I’m a cop. He could be in danger because of me.”
Bennie saw the anguish in Declan’s eyes and she could feel his need for comfort, almost palpably. She wanted to hug him, but stopped herself. She didn’t know where the impulse came from, and she didn’t want it to be misinterpreted. Instead, she flashed him a professional smile.
“Let’s get you a drink,” s
he said.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Bennie let herself into her room, and Bear trotted ahead, trailing his leash while she closed the door behind her. Two lamps with cut-crystal bases flanked a lovely bed cloaked in dotted-Swiss bedcovers, with a filmy matching canopy. An antique bureau sat opposite windows covered with pink-and-red toile curtains, coordinating with rose walls. The total effect was overwhelmingly lovely, until Bear bounced onto the bed and started digging at the bedclothes with his front paws, making himself a doggie nest.
“Bear, no!” Bennie put her belongings on the floor, took off her coat, and headed for the bathroom to get ready for dinner. She went to the sink, washed her face, then dried off. She eyed her reflection, looking different to herself, somehow. Something was happening, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She didn’t feel like herself. She was off the reservation. She was about to have dinner-that-might-be-a-date with an interesting, intelligent, and sexy man. Anything could happen, anything was possible, and nobody had to know. She was free.
She turned out the light, left the bathroom, and patted Bear good-bye. She grabbed her room key and slid it in her back pocket, leaving her purse behind. She reached the lobby buzzing with guests and hotel staff in Santa hats. She walked to the restaurant in the back where she spotted Declan already sitting at a table for two, wearing a work shirt and dark corduroy sport jacket, his perfect features illuminated by a flickering candle. Bennie felt a palpitation in her chest, but prayed she was just having a heart attack.
“Hi.” Declan stood up and came around the table.
“Hi, I got it.” Bennie reached for her chair, pulling it out before he could. “How’s your room? Miss your gun rack?”
“Fine.” Declan rolled his eyes, sitting down. “Like the place?”
“Yes.” Bennie glanced around. The restaurant was large, quaint, and classy, with dark wainscoting, plaster walls, and real brass sconces that lit forty-odd tables covered with old-school white tablecloths. A holiday crowd filled the seats, mostly couples, with enough ties and jackets that made the place seem high-end, but not stuffy. Wine and beer flowed easily, and the air smelled like chicken with rosemary.
“I was thinking about getting our rooms through the weekend. What do you think?”
“Are you serious?” Bennie asked him, surprised. “Why?”
“I thought it would be good to have a home base. For the case.”
“But it’s only Wednesday night. I have to work.”
“What work do you have the week before Christmas?”
“Jason’s case, for one thing.”
“Right, and that’s here. Why drive back to the city, when you have all this?” Declan gestured out the window to the street, with its shops open and festive lights aglow. “I’m taking the week off. They owe me so many vacation days, I stopped counting.”
“I’m self-employed, so there’s no vacation days. My boss is a real bitch.”
“If you can’t stay, I get it.” Declan shrugged. “I’m staying. I need time to deal with Doreen and Richie. It’s a crisis, and I can’t give it short shrift.”
“Hmm.” Bennie mulled it over. Her first instinct was negative, inside her comfort level, but maybe Lou was right. It was time to leave her comfort level behind. “The truth is, none of my cases is active, except for Jason’s case. I have the laptop, so I can work if I need to. The dog is with me, so there’s no reason to go back to the city. The firm will be okay with my receptionist holding the fort.”
“See how you feel tomorrow. Let’s have some wine. We’re here. We don’t have to drive anywhere.” Declan picked up her glass and filled it partway. “Merry Christmas, and may the next one be better.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Bennie accepted the glass from him, then took a sip and set the glass down. “Declan, let’s talk a minute.”
“About what?”
“About, this.” Bennie felt impatient with her own inability to express herself, even her own discomfort. “The rooms, your staying, my staying, this dinner. This.”
“What about it?” Declan cocked his head, his tone gentle, not a challenge.
“I thought we were friends, colleagues, co-counsel. Are we starting something here? Are we trying to have some kind of relationship? And how are we going to do that?” Bennie couldn’t even stop to let him answer. “As you said, you don’t like to compromise. I don’t either. Where’s the middle ground? York? Harrisburg? We’re not twenty years old. It’s complicated. We can’t pretend that everything’s easy.”
“I hear you.” Declan sipped wine. “We’re adults. We have jobs and responsibilities.”
“Right. Mortgages, bills, overhead, business expenses, depreciation—”
“—shift schedules—”
“—court schedules—”
“Don’t forget staff.”
“Staff, yes.” Bennie threw up her hands. “What are we doing here, really? What do you want? What are you looking for? The only thing that makes sense is a fling. Is that what you want, a fling?”
“No,” Declan answered quietly, setting his glass down. “I don’t want a fling. If I wanted a fling, I would’ve gotten one room.”
“So what do you want?”
“Something real. Something serious. Something that lasts.”
Bennie’s mouth went dry. It was just the answer she wanted, and the one she most dreaded.
“How about you, Bennie? What do you want?”
“I want the same thing,” Bennie forced herself to say aloud, though it wasn’t easy to be so vulnerable. “I’m not looking for a fling or one-night stand. Something like that, it’s not worth the trouble or the time.”
“Agree,” Declan said, simply.
“But what about the compromising? Neither of us wants to compromise.”
“Bennie, I don’t have the answers. I’m feeling my way along, too. I didn’t know I wanted any of this, not until I met you.” Declan’s dark eyes searched her face. “If you really want to know what I want, it’s a chance with you. That’s all. I never met a woman like you. It threw me off in the beginning, but I’d like to give us a try.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“What I know so far, I really like. I like how honest you are. I like that you’re smart. I like that you’re sexy. I even like that you ask a thousand questions. I like how much you care about Jason. And your passion, about something other than yourself.” Declan leaned over, looking directly into her eyes in the candlelight. “I didn’t expect this to be easy. You’re not easy. But I think there can be something between us. We’re more alike than we’re different. If anybody can figure this out, we can.”
Bennie blinked. It was not only a great answer, it was the perfect answer. Declan had just delivered the best oral argument ever, and he didn’t even know he was in court.
“Bennie, I’ve seen you take a chance when something matters to you, like on Jason’s case. So why not take a chance on us?” Declan reached over the table and took her hand, holding it lightly. “Agree?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
The morning sun rose in a frigid sky, and Bennie flew down the highway. Last night she’d slept like a baby, after three glasses of wine and a delicious eggplant parm. Declan had walked her to the door of her room, but there was a family with kids in the hall and he didn’t try to kiss her, which showed good judgment. Maybe. This morning they’d eaten breakfast in the inn’s restaurant, then he’d gone for a run, volunteering to take Bear, which delighted her, if not the chubby retriever, who’d looked back at Bennie in panic as Declan tugged him away. By the time they’d rounded the corner, Bear’s tail was wagging. So was Declan’s.
Bennie reached Wilkes-Barre in an hour and turned right onto River Street, heading uphill for the detention center, her mood darkening. She turned into the driveway and pulled into the parking lot, unusually packed with white Ford vans bearing the state’s official seal. She took the last available space, got out of the car, then hustled to the entrance, where
two workmen in knit caps and blue jumpsuits were leaving with boxes.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” Bennie said to them. “What’s going on?”
“Moving equipment to the new place,” the tall one answered, carrying some boxes out to the van.
“What new place?”
“They’re replacing this dump, didn’t you hear? It’ll be open January or February. It’s new construction, up in Pittston. Your kid in there?”
“Yes,” Bennie answered, without elaborating.
“Well, the new place is a damn sight better.”
“Thanks.” Bennie hoped Jason would be free by then, anyway. She entered the building, showed ID to the security guard, and went to the visiting room, where she sat down. Jason was led in by an older, African-American security guard she hadn’t seen before, who flashed her a kind smile as the boy scuffed his way toward her, his head down and his demeanor even more depressed than she’d seen him last time.
“Hey, buddy.” Bennie rose and gave him a hug, which he barely returned. “How you doing?”
“Okay.” Jason slumped into the chair, plopping his head on his fist.
“You don’t seem okay.” Bennie went around the table and returned to her seat, eyeing him. His skin looked pale, and there were still dark circles under his eyes. His fleshy lips were chapped, and his mouth downturned at the corners, his sadness undisguised.
“My dad said the judge didn’t change his mind. I’m never getting out of here.” Jason kept his head on his fist, listless. “And now Richie and the big boys call me Fat Joe, after some rapper, then Richie got in a fight with them and the guards came.”
“Oh no.” Bennie would have to tell Declan, later.
“Guess what, my dad left Patch in at night. He’s not letting her out anymore.” Jason looked up, with a smile that felt to Bennie like a reward.
“That’s a relief, huh?”
“He says he’s going to walk her. I’ll believe that when I see it.” Jason chuckled, shifted his position, and Bennie noticed an odd flash of white skin above his left ear, where he’d been leaning on his fist.