Joan Pickart - Body of Evidence

No, it had been more than that. Their joining had been wondrous, exquisitely beautiful, so intense and meaningful and…and nothing could erase the fact that they’d gone to bed together after knowing each other for a few hours, the majority of which had been spent arguing like cats and dogs about the filming of the documentary.

She’d do well to just forget about that night as Evan apparently intended to do. Chalk it up as poor judgment, and a rather immature lack of control. Her behavior that night had been very, very out of character. That theory was just dandy, but there were extenuating circumstances that made it impossible to ever forget what she had shared with Evan Stone.

That night had changed her life for all time.

Because she was pregnant with Evan’s baby.

Jennifer set the mug on the end table then put her hands on her stomach.

Oh, my, she thought, a baby. She was carrying Evan Stone’s baby. She’d repeated that message so many times in her mind in the past few weeks until she really believed at last that it was true.

She was thrilled, so happy that she wept at the drop of a hat, which was partly due to wacky hormones at this point, she supposed.

But the daddy in this scenario? Oh, heavens, she didn’t even want to think about what Evan’s reaction to her baby bulletin would be. He was dedicated to his career, totally focused on his role of district attorney. No, Evan was not going to beam with delight when she told him she was pregnant.

Which was why, Jennifer thought, staring into space, she was going to keep this pregnancy a secret for as long as possible. Yes, a man had the right to know that he had a child on the way, but she wasn’t prepared, not yet, to tarnish the pure joy she was feeling with what could be a very nasty and angry response on the part of Evan Stone.

She worked continually with men who put their careers first, was aware of the long hours they were away from home with little, or no, thought given to their wife and children waiting for them. Their families seemed very low on the list of what was important to them. No, Evan would not be happy when he heard her news.

“It takes two to get into this situation, buster,” Jennifer said, narrowing her eyes.

That, no doubt, was what she’d fling at Evan if he accused her of being careless, for not considering birth control the night they had been together. Well, he hadn’t brought up the dicey subject, either, by golly. He’d have to admit that, no matter how upset he might be.

But taking equal responsibility for the creation of this little one wouldn’t make Evan want this baby, wouldn’t send him racing off to buy cigars so he’d be ready for the big day that he was ecstatic about.

Evan might tell her that she would hear from his attorney regarding child support payments because he was an honorable man who would provide for his child, but he wanted no part of the role of father to their baby. He didn’t have the time, nor the desire, to do so.

Oh, what a depressing thought.

“It’s just you and me, kiddo,” Jennifer said, patting her stomach, then sniffling. “And maybe a weekend father. But he might not even want to take on that role. I’m so sorry…” she sniffled again “…just so sorry, little darling. Your daddy is magnificent but he isn’t mine, or ours. But we’ll be fine, just the two of us. Fine and dandy. You’ll see.”

Jennifer picked up the mug of milk, then plunked it back down when she saw the scummy film on the top of the now-cool liquid. She took a wadded tissue from the pocket of her robe and dabbed at her nose.

She was not going to cry, she told herself. She was tired, so very tired, and she was on emotional overload from talking on the telephone with Evan earlier and from being with him in his office after not seeing him for three months. There she had sat, knowing she was carrying his child while he glared at her and grumpily said he guessed he was stuck with her for the duration of the filming of her documentary. What a crummy thing for him to have said, the rotten bum.

“And I think I’m falling in love with him,” Jennifer wailed. “Oh, I’m a wreck, a complete wreck.”

She got to her feet and stomped down the hall to her bedroom. Exhaustion claimed her, and she was asleep within moments of climbing into the beckoning bed.

The building where Franklin Gardner’s penthouse apartment took up the entire thirty-fifth floor was in the prestigious Gold Coast area of Chicago. It was cream-colored stone with an expensive brown tint added to the windows that caused a golden hue to be reflected when the sun shone on the structure, as though it was constantly reminding the general public that it took wealth to live within its walls.

At eight o’clock the next morning Jennifer arrived at the building and Evan pushed open the door to the lushly decorated lobby to allow her to enter.

“Good morning, Evan,” Jennifer said, smiling. “Gracious, I think this lobby is bigger than my entire apartment.”

“Let’s get upstairs,” Evan said, then frowned. “You look pale, Jennifer.”

You would, too, she thought, if you’d been tossing your cookies since 5:00 a.m. Her doctor had said that the morning sickness should end any time now. As far as she, wobbly-tummy Jennifer was concerned, it couldn’t happen quick enough to suit her.

“Pale? Me?” she said. “I had a little problem with getting to sleep last night, but I’m fine.”

“If you say so,” Evan said, then started across the lobby.

When they reached the elevators a uniformed police officer was standing by one elevator set apart from the others. Evan nodded at him as he and Jennifer stepped into the elevator. There was only one button on the panel and Evan pushed it.

“This is a private elevator for the penthouse?” Jennifer said. “Impressive.”

The doors swished closed and the elevator began its ascent.

“Yep,” Evan said. “This one only goes to the penthouse. It normally requires a special key, but we’re making it accessible to our people with no hassle.”

The elevator bumped to a stop and the doors slid silently open.

“Oh, my,” Jennifer said, as she stepped forward. “No wonder a private elevator is needed. We’re actually standing in the foyer to the penthouse itself. The elevator is the front door, per se. Mmm. So this is how the other half lives in Chicago, the haves versus us have-not working stiffs.”

“Right,” Evan said, frowning, “but the Gardner family money wasn’t enough for greedy Franklin. He had to have more. So the slime sets up a racket of kidnapping girls no one would miss and selling them to prostitution rings in foreign countries. Unbelievable. The Gardner name has been held in high regard in this city for many, many years and now it’s tarnished beyond repair.”

They entered the enormous living room, then Jennifer followed Evan across the richly furnished expanse to a room on the opposite side. A chalk outline of a body was visible on the carpet in what was obviously a study, or den, with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.

“Well, Franklin paid the ultimate price for his greed,” Jennifer said quietly, staring at the outline of the murdered man’s body. “It’s probably terrible of me to say this, Evan, but with Franklin Gardner dead we can at least know that a great many young girls have been saved from a horrible existence.”

“That thought has occurred to me more than once.” Evan nodded. “ Franklin paid the piper, big-time. But even though he was an evil, heartless man, his killer can’t go unpunished. No one has the right to get away with what happened in this room, to take the life of another human being. Lyle is going to pay his dues, too.”

Jennifer placed one hand on Evan’s arm. “You’ll get your conviction, Evan, I know you will.”