Joan Pickart - Body of Evidence

Oh, he liked being in love with Jennifer. She brought out the best in him, made him put her first in importance, yet it somehow didn’t diminish his sense of self. The very thought of being the one to make her smile, laugh right out loud, be the cause of her incredible green eyes changing to a smoky hue of desire for him, him, made him feel ten feet tall.

Evan leaned forward and gently brushed a silky strand of hair from Jennifer’s cheek.

“I love you, sweet Jenny,” he whispered.

And now there was more. She brought so much into his life and now there was more. A son. Their son. Their baby boy. He wanted to win this trial for his son, too, so that someday when he told his boy what had been going on when his parents fell in love, he’d be able to announce that he had won the trial in question and justice had been served.

He had to win in that courtroom.

For Jennifer.

For their son.

For himself.

And when the trial was over he was going to tell Jennifer how he felt about her, ask her to marry him, and wait to see if he was to become the happiest man in the world, or one who was sliced and diced.

Yes, a momentous question had been answered tonight…he was irrevocably in love with his sweet Jenny, but a great many questions remained.

The lights suddenly came back on, startling Evan so much that he jumped to his feet and bumped the sofa. Jennifer’s eyes popped open.

“What?” She struggled to sit up, then blinked and shook her head. “Did I fall asleep? Well, that’s mortifying. Big help I am.” She laughed. “I’m sorry, Evan. I feel like a three-year-old who needed a nap and just conked out.”

“Which means you’re a very exhausted lady, who is calling it quits for today and heading home,” he said, extending one hand toward her. “Up. Out.” He glanced at the ceiling. “The storm is even cooperating, and it’s not raining so hard.”

Jennifer placed one hand in Evan’s and allowed him to assist her to her feet. She made no effort to resist when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, nestling her to his rugged body.

“Could I interest you in the last slice of cold pizza?” he said, his voice gritty.

“No, thank you,” she said, her arms floating up to encircle his neck.

“Well, how about the last couple of inches of your soda, which is now flat and warm?”

“No, thank you.”

“I can offer you about three or four hours more work examining jury applications?”

“No, thank you,” she said, smiling. “I’m brain dead. They’d all sound the same at this point.”

“Well, shucks and darn, ma’am,” he said, “I guess I don’t have one thing to give to you that you’d be interested in.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Mr. Stone,” she said, shifting to tiptoes and brushing her lips over his once, then twice, then gaining courage to do it one more time as she felt a tremor sweep through him. “I think you have exactly what I want and need right now.”

“Oh?”

“Kiss me, Evan,” she whispered.

“I live to serve,” he said, then his mouth melted over hers.

It was an explosion of senses. The kiss was as wild and intense and raging as out of control as the storm outside had been. The thunder of nature’s fury was now the pounding tempo of their hearts. The brilliant lightning was the razor-sharp awareness of the marvelous differences between a body soft and a body hard and muscled that made them perfect counterparts. The swirling, beating rain was transformed into churning, pulsing desire deep within them.

But while the storm beyond the windows had been cold, what was consuming them was hot, burning flames that licked throughout them. The kiss intensified and breathing became labored as passions soared.

Evan lifted his head a fraction of an inch and spoke close to Jennifer’s moist lips.

“I want you so damn much,” he said, hardly recognizing the raspy tone of his own voice. “Ah, Jenny, you have no idea how much…”

I love you, Evan’s mind hammered. No, this was not the time or place to declare his love for her. The Gardner trial possessed too much of them now. He wanted that done, finished, the slate wiped clean so he could concentrate totally on the future. A future he could only hope and pray would be spent with Jennifer.

“I want you, too, Evan,” she said softly.

“Jenny, I…” Evan started.

“Yo, in the room,” a man yelled. “Cleaning service. Is anyone here?”

Jennifer and Evan jerked apart, then each took a step backward. Jennifer fluffed her hair, Evan dragged a hand through his.

“Yes,” Evan hollered, then cleared his throat. “We were working in here, but we’re finished for tonight. Come on in.”

A man appeared in the doorway to the conference room, pulling a cart stacked with supplies.

“Howdy, folks,” he said. “You public servant types sure do put in long hours.”

“Your tax dollars at work,” Evan said, “but we’re gone. Please don’t disturb any of the papers on the table. It might look like chaos, but it’s organized chaos, believe it or not.”

“Got it,” the man said, dragging the cart forward. “You must be getting ready for that Gardner trial, huh? Man, you can’t pick up a newspaper, or turn on the tube, without having it in front of your nose. It’s the topic at our dinner table at home every night, too. Guess folks are waiting to see if the rich folks in Chicago get to play by different rules than us poor slaving stiffs.”

Evan frowned. “Really? There’s some question about that? Whether Lyle will get off because he comes from a wealthy, powerful family?”

“Well, sure,” the man said.

“If I don’t get a conviction,” Evan said, “won’t people realize that I just didn’t have enough evidence to convince the jury of Gardner ’s guilt beyond a reasonable doubt?”

“Doubt it,” the man said, shaking his head.

“That’s absurd,” Jennifer said, planting her hands on her hips. “Wealth, power, whatever, will have nothing whatsoever to do with the outcome of this trial. Gracious, people have no idea how many long days this man…” she pointed at Evan, who was staring at her with wide eyes “…their district attorney, has put in to prepare his case against Lyle Gardner.

“Well, guess what? When the documentary I’m working on about Evan Stone and his staff is aired on television, the citizens of Chicago and beyond are going to know the truth. The rich and famous get no special favors when they have broken the law. No, sir. Never. Have you got that? If you don’t, then make sure you watch my film because…”

“Um…Jennifer?” Evan interrupted, chuckling softly. “I think you’ve made your point.”

“Oh, yes, ma’am,” the man said. “Whew. You sure do have a temper there, ma’am, when you get going. And I believe every word you said, by golly. I surely do. Mr. Stone, you’d better count your lucky stars this lady is on your side.”

“Oh, I count those lucky stars every day,” Evan said, smiling at Jennifer.

“I…I guess I got a little carried away,” Jennifer said, feeling a warm flush of embarrassment stain her cheeks. “I’m sorry. It’s just that… What I mean is…” She threw up her hands. “Never mind. I need some sleep.”

And he needed to spend the rest of his life with this dynamite lady, Evan thought, his heart swelling with love for Jennifer.

T he next day was a study in frustration for Evan. Reporters were calling one after the next in response to Cecelia’s accusation that the governor, the mayor and District Attorney Evan Stone had concocted a conspiracy against her family because they feared the power the Gardners possessed. The three men had manufactured phony evidence against her deceased son Franklin, who was unable to defend himself, and were attempting to convict her remaining son Lyle of killing his own brother with a flimsy case that should be thrown out of court.