The Law And Lady Justice

“I doubt we will, either. At least until we can have some closure.”

She looked into his eyes and recognized the never-ending pain. “I thought that if I put away the guilty, I’d feel better.”

“Don’t you?”

“Sometimes. But every time I have to let one go, I remember that one, and not all the guilty ones I’ve sentenced.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Because no matter how many I sentence, I’ll never know if he’s the one who murdered my sister.”

Her father winced.

“I’m sorry.” Jessica turned her hand and intertwined her fingers with his. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s the truth. Maybe we don’t talk about Karen enough.”

“I doubt that. You know sometimes I can’t remember what she looked like? I know she had lighter hair compared to mine, and she wanted to be a veterinarian. Sometimes, I can almost hear her laugh, but I can’t remember her face.”

“Look at her picture. I always do.”

“Her picture isn’t her, Dad.”

He squeezed her hand. “We’ll never forget Karen, never forgive what happened to her, but both of us need to get past it and move on with our lives. Especially you, Jess.”

Jessica straightened, pulling on her hand, but he wouldn’t let go. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you need to do something other than worry about the bad guys all the time.”

“I thought you were proud of my career.”

“I am. I’m bursting my buttons whenever I can work into the conversation that my daughter is a judge. But you’re starting to worry me.” Jessica scowled and took a gulp of her wine with her free hand. “Don’t glare at me like that, young lady. You need to get a life.”

“Pardon me?”

“Find a man. Have some fun. Live a little.”

“You were the one who broke out the champagne when Dennis moved out.”

“Dennis Wolcott was a wimp. Face it, girl, you need a man.”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Dad!” But his gaze, no longer on her, was fixed on someone near the door. “Dad?”

“Here comes one now,” he murmured, his mouth curving into a welcoming smile.

Jessica glanced over her shoulder to find Doug McGuire bearing down on them. Bruno chased after him, flapping his hands like an agitated bird.

McGuire stopped at their table, his dark-blue gaze touching on the wine, then lighting on their joined hands. He frowned and lifted an icy stare to Jessica.

“What do you want, Detective McGuire?” She removed her hand from her father’s, then picked up her wine when her hand suddenly felt too empty and vulnerable. McGuire always made her feel—nervous.

“We need to talk.”

Jessica raised her eyebrows and lifted her glass. She sipped, ever so slowly, watching McGuire heat toward slow burn. Damn it was fun! “I think we talked enough today, Detective, don’t you?”

Her father turned a laugh into a cough. Her gaze flicked toward him, and she remembered what he’d said just before McGuire descended. She needed a man. Well, McGuire might be a man, but he was not for her. She had to get rid of him before Daddy started matchmaking. And from the look of his grin and the sparkle in his eyes, she didn’t have much time.

“I’m having dinner, Detective. You can make an appointment with Liz.”

“No chance. The boyfriend will just have to eat alone tonight. I need you to come with me.”

She narrowed her eyes, then carefully set down her wine before she made a scene by throwing it into McGuire’s face. Then she sat back and looked him up and down. “This sounds interesting.” She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, tasting the rich, red flavor of the Merlot her father had chosen. “What do you have in mind, Detective?”

His gaze, which had fixed on her lips, snapped to her eyes. The heat there made her want to pull at the suddenly tight neck of her blouse. “Lose the date,” McGuire ordered.

Her father snorted again. She cast him an annoyed glare and stood up. Shouldering past McGuire, she bent and kissed her father’s cheek. “Excuse me, but the detective is quite insistent.” She patted his cheek. “I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart.”

Her father grinned at her obvious ploy and winked. “Good night, Jess.”

Jessica turned and nearly bumped into a scowling McGuire. She moved past him and out the door.

Once outside, out of the range of too many listeners, she turned and demanded, “What’s so important you dragged me away before I had a chance to eat?”

“So I’ll buy you dinner.” He took her arm and started to hustle her along at a rapid pace.

“Where are we going?”

“Where we can talk. I think we need a level playing field and that fancy jacket-and-tie joint ain’t it. I know a good place to eat just a couple blocks from here. Do you mind walking?”

“Not at all, it’s a beautiful night for a stroll. So why are we running a marathon?”

“Oh, sorry,” he said, slowing his steps. “Your boyfriend’s sure the understanding type.”

She feathered a smile. “He’s very secure, because he knows how I feel about him.”

“He called you Jess. I like that. Heard you broke your engagement to Wolcott. You went with that guy a long time, didn’t you?”

“Yes, seven years.”

“Sure didn’t take you long to find a replacement.”

“Is that what you wanted to discuss, McGuire?” she asked with a rise of anger. “As much as I value your opinion, it’s a poor substitute for a gourmet meal. This could have waited until morning.”

“Just wanted you to know that you got your wish.”

“My wish? I don’t recall wishing for anything, except maybe your transfer to Anchorage.”

“Very funny. Figured you’d be interested to hear that we pulled your friend Gilbert out of the river a short time ago. Very wet—and very dead. Congratulations, Judge, justice has been served.”