Corrupted (15 page)

“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.

“Jason, what happened to your head?”

“Nothing.” Jason quickly covered the patch with his hand, and Bennie realized he'd been hiding it earlier.

“I saw, it looks white. Did somebody hurt you?”

“No.”

“Then what's going on? Did somebody
hit
you?”

“No.” Jason shook his head, his hand still firmly planted.

“Did you bang it on something?”

“No.”

“Jason, please tell me what happened.”

“Nobody did it to me.” Jason lowered his voice.

“Did you do it to yourself?” Bennie asked, confused.

“No, it just came out.”

“What came out?”

“My
hair
.” Jason looked up, stricken. His face flushed pink. “My hair, it's, like,
falling out
. I found some in the shower and on my pillow this morning, and on my shirt when I took it off, around the neck. I'm afraid I'm going to be bald, like, I'm going to be totally
bald
like a
baby
.”

“Oh no,” Bennie said, alarmed. Her thoughts raced with possibilities. There were childhood cancers, an immune disorder, or it could even be psychological. “Do you feel sick?”

“No.”

“Are you throwing up or anything?”

“No.”

“Do you have a fever?” Bennie put her hand on Jason's forehead like a TV mom, but it didn't feel hot. “When did this start?”

“I don't know, it's just like, all of a sudden, like, my hair is falling out, and look, it's, like, happening to my eyebrows, too.”

Bennie leaned over, noticing that his eyebrows seemed oddly sparse.

“Can you tell, like, right off? If the other kids see, or the big boys…” Jason didn't finish the sentence, and Bennie placed a steadying hand on his soft shoulder.

“Jason, you can't see it easily, but we need to have a doctor look at you. What did your dad say?”

“I didn't tell him, and he was sitting on my other side, so he couldn't see.”

“Why didn't you tell him, buddy?”

“He was upset because we lost and like, I knew I would only make him worry more.” Jason's eyes filmed, and his lower lip trembled. “Richard the Strong wouldn't say anything.”

Bennie squeezed his shoulder. “I don't think Richard the Strong had to put up with what you're having to put up with.”

“Yes, he did, he had battles.”

“Well, he wears a helmet.”

“You remembered.” Jason managed a smile, and Bennie felt her heart lift.

“For all we know, he's bald under that helmet. So don't worry too much about trying to be like Richard the Strong.”

“You said to.”

“I know, but I was wrong.” Bennie sighed inwardly. She had no idea how mothers did their jobs. It was impossibly hard, like taking the bar exam—every day for the rest of your life. “Jason, it's good to be brave, but you're going through a lot now, and it's okay to say that it's hard. Really hard, and really scary.”

“It is,” Jason whispered. His eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“I know, sweetie.” Bennie felt wetness come to her own eyes, but blinked them clear. She'd sensed Jason needed her to be strong, which was another Mother Thing. “Anyway, what I was saying was we need to get a doctor, to check you out—”

“No, please don't, they'll know, they'll make fun of me.” Jason wiped his eyes with his free hand. “Soon they'll
see
, if it doesn't stop, they'll see. I won't have any hair!”

“We'll deal with that when it happens, if it happens.” Bennie hesitated. “It's possible that part of the reason this is happening is because you're stressed, which is normal. We can get you some help for that, too, somebody to talk to.”

“Like
Frasier
, you mean a shrink. You think I'm crazy.”

“No, not at all. Not crazy, but stressed. Worried. Anybody would be nervous and anxious in this situation. I would be.”

“So why don't
you
see a shrink?”

“I have in my life, and I would again, if I needed to.” Bennie had grown up with a single mother, who suffered from depression, and she'd been her mother's caretaker, from childhood. She'd done her time in therapy, which was why she was so incredibly well adjusted, if you didn't count her personal life.

“They have a shrink that comes here, I heard people saying, making fun of the boy who had to see him.” Jason's eyes flashed with new panic. “Really, I
mean
it, they'll tease me, they'll call me crazy, I don't want anything like that to happen, I want them to leave me alone until I go home. When am I going home? Just tell me.”

“I'm working on it, Jason.” Suddenly Bennie had an idea. “Sit here. I have to go a minute.”

“Why?”

“You'll see. Stay here. I'll be right back.” Bennie jumped up, signaling to the guard. “Sir, I'll be right back. Please let him wait here for me.”

The guard nodded back to her, and Bennie grabbed her purse, hustled from the room, waved her way past the security desk, and went outside. She caught up with the workman, loading a box on the van.

“Hi, remember me?” Bennie asked him, as he turned around.

“Sure, the mom.”

“Can I ask you a favor? Will you sell me your hat for twenty bucks?” Bennie gestured at his black knit cap.