She wondered whom he would ultimately marry. Or if he even would. Her rejection might cause him to remain a bachelor the rest of his life. As she sailed along, she had to smile. She was giving herself far too much credit. In a year’s time, Michael would be off doing something incredibly fantastic. She would be lucky if he even remembered who she was five years from now.
As she docked her boat and wrapped the sails, she stopped for a moment to catch one last breeze off the water before she headed back to the house. Barely a twenty-minute non-rush-hour trip due north would deliver her to the most powerful city on earth, to her place with the most awe-inspiring legal minds of her time. And yet all she really wanted to do right now was snuggle under her blanket with the lights off and pretend she never had to go back there. Reasonably ambitious all her life, she suddenly had no drive to accomplish anything else of note in her professional life.
It was like she had used up all her energy in getting to this point. Marriage and being a mom? Was that what she wanted? She had no siblings and had been pretty spoiled growing up. She wasn’t used to being around kids all that much, but something pulled at her in this direction. Something very strong. But even so, she wasn’t sure. And shouldn’t she be by now?
As she went inside, undressed and climbed into bed, she realized that having a family required one thing to start: finding someone to love. She had just turned down one opportunity to do so with a truly exceptional man. Would another chance come along? Did she want a man in her life right now? Still, sometimes one shot was all you got. One shot. That was her last thought before falling asleep.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
* * *
It was Monday and John Fiske sat at his desk, digesting yet another arrest report on one of his clients. By now he was extremely adept at this process. He was only halfway through the report and he could already tell the sort of deal the guy could expect to get. Well, it was nice being good at something.
The knock on his office door startled him. His right hand slid open the top drawer of his desk. Inside was a 9mm, a leftover from his cop days. His clientele were not the most trustworthy. So while he would represent them zealously, he was not naive enough to turn his back on them either. Some of his clients had shown up at his door drugged or drunk, with a grudge against him for some perceived wrong. Thus, his spirits were lifted considerably by the feel of hard steel against his palm.
“Come on in, door’s unlocked.”
The uniformed police officer who stepped through the doorway brought a smile to Fiske’s lips, and he closed his desk drawer. “Hey, Billy, how you doing?”
“I’ve been better, John,” Officer Billy Hawkins said.
As Hawkins came forward and sat down, Fiske saw the multicolored bruises on his friend’s face. “What the hell happened to you?”
Hawkins touched one of the bruises. “Guy went nuts at a bar the other night, popped me a couple of good ones.” He added quickly, “That’s not why I’m here, John.”
Fiske knew Hawkins to be a good-natured sort who didn’t let the constant pressures of his job overwhelm him. He was always as reliable and serious about his job as he was casual and friendly off duty.
Hawkins glanced nervously at Fiske.
“It’s not anything with Bonnie or the kids, is it?” Fiske asked.
“It’s not about my family, John.”
“Is that right?” As he looked into Hawkins’s troubled eyes, Fiske’s gut clenched.
“Damn, John, you know how much we hated going around to the next of kin, and we didn’t even know them.”
Fiske slowly stood up, his mouth instantly dry. “Next of kin? Oh my God, not my mom? My dad?”
“No, John, it’s not them.”
“Just tell me what the hell you need to tell me, Billy.”
Hawkins licked his lips and then started speaking quickly. “We got a call from the police up in D.C.”