A Time To Come Home

Tyler gathered his papers, placed them in the expensive calfskin leather briefcase his father had bought him last Christmas and headed for the exit.

“Impressive job in there, Tyler.” Jon Pettinger, the neighbor who lived a few doors from him, separated himself from the crowd and shook his hand. Jon kept himself in such good shape that he could have passed for a man a few decades younger if not for his gray hair.

“Thanks, Jon. That’s big of you to say, considering it was your colleague sitting at the defense table. I’m lucky you weren’t there beside him.”

“I’m working another case or I might have been. I was only present today because I happened to be at the courthouse and thought I’d check up on him. I didn’t see much, just the fireworks at the end. You caught my guy unawares, which is a good lesson for him.”

“It’s all about gaining experience and putting in the time. Next time your associate will be better prepared so the prosecution doesn’t surprise him again.”

“You’re right. But next time he won’t be up against an opponent who might become the youngest circuit court judge ever appointed in Maryland.”

“I take it you heard I put in an application for the vacancy.”

“I heard more than that. I heard the judicial nominating commission is very impressed with you. Unless you blow the interview, they’ll recommend the governor appoint you to the bench for sure.”

The thirteen-member commission, armed with background information and statements from local bar associations and interested citizens, would soon meet to interview all the candidates. Tyler had every intention of sailing through the interview, the same way he’d aced his tests in college and law school.

“That’s only the first step,” Tyler said. “The commission can recommend up to seven candidates.”

“I still wouldn’t bet against a guy as accomplished as you, although I’d go nuts if I put in the time you do,” he said with a laugh, then lowered his voice as though they were coconspirators. “Just tell me one thing. Did you get the idea to cross check the addresses because of what happened on Labor Day weekend?”

Tyler cocked his head, trying to remember back to last weekend. He’d spent most of it working, although Lauren Fairchild had stopped by his house in an unsuccessful attempt to persuade him to come to her family’s cookout. “I don’t follow.”

“With that woman who transposed our house numbers. She stopped at my place on Saturday by mistake, but I pointed her in the right direction. Don’t tell me she never found you.”

“I was at the office most of the day Saturday,” Tyler said, then quickly asked, “What did this woman look like?”

“Very attractive. Brown hair a little longer than shoulder length. Big hazel eyes. Oh, and a tiny mole to the left of her mouth, like the one that supermodel has.”

The woman he’d described was Diana Smith.

If his neighbor hadn’t pointed out the mole, Tyler never would have come up with her name.

What could she possibly have come to his house to say after all these years? And why hadn’t she said it when he’d run into her at the community center?

A number of hackneyed expressions ran through his head: water under the bridge. Let bygones by bygones. What’s done is done.

He didn’t listen to any of them. What Diana had to say shouldn’t matter and probably wouldn’t in the long run. But one way or the other, he intended to find out what it was.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE TRIAL KEEPING Tyler away from the community center had entered the second day of its second week. Diana knew this, because the front page of the Laurel County Times had faithfully reported each day’s events. Speculation was that the judge would hand over the case to the jury today.

The last time Diana had read the Times in any detail had been years ago when the prosecuting attorney had been Tyler’s father and the boy on trial the one who’d murdered her brother.

This trial also had a teenage defendant and sensationalist elements, but there the similarities ended. A different Benton was prosecuting this case, the teenager’s weapon had been a gas can instead of a knife and nobody had died.

Diana relegated J.D. to the back of her mind, from where he never left, and put aside the stack of registrations she’d been inputting into a computer spreadsheet. She stood up and stretched her arms overhead.

The hour hand on the wall clock had passed seven, meaning the pickup basketball game on the outside court was well underway. Since Tyler had finished presenting his side of the case, maybe he’d joined the game.

She reached into the pocket of her slacks, fingering the good-luck stone. For the first time in forever, it seemed as though things would work out. She enjoyed her job, and she was doing well in her classes. She’d also moved into the perfect place over the weekend: an affordable two-bedroom garage apartment in a neighborhood filled with children.

She’d yet to make contact with her mother but had tried calling twice, both times getting her answering machine and both times failing to leave a message. Baby steps, she reminded herself, even though she was poised to take a giant one.

All the ingredients had come together for her to tell Tyler about Jaye: tonight. Call her crazy, but she even looked forward to it.

She expected him to be angry at first, but he’d always been reasonable. Once she explained her belief that a baby would have dimmed his bright future, he’d come to understand why she’d lied.

She ventured into the twilight, following the sounds of young men chattering and a basketball bouncing until she reached the lighted court behind the community center. She kept close to the building, bracing herself for the sight of Tyler.