Brad Meltzer - Dead Even

“I don’t believe this,” Jared said. As he undid his tie and the first button of his shirt, his hands were shaking. “Have you heard from Rafferty or Kozlow?”

“Not yet. I don’t think they’re coming in today.” Seeing the sweat form on her boss’s forehead, Kathleen asked, “Are you okay? Do you want me to get you some water?”

Jared stood up and walked to the door, perspiration running down his back. “I’m fine. I just need to get some fresh air.” Lurching down the hallway, Jared had trouble catching his breath. He staggered into the men’s room and over to one of the three marble sinks. Leaning forward, he felt as if he was going to throw up. For two minutes, he fought his nausea and struggled to slow his breathing. He then turned on the cold water and splashed it against his face.

Eventually, he looked up, staring at himself in the mirror. It’s my fault, he thought. I never should’ve gotten him involved. Looking away, he wished there were some way he could undo the past weeks’ events. That he could get rid of the case, protect his wife, and, most important, bring back his friend. As he replayed the events in his mind, he kicked himself for going to Barrow’s office last night. He should have known better than that – Rafferty had said he’d always be watching. Still unable to look in the mirror, Jared closed his eyes and tightened his fists. In the span of a heartbeat, painful remorse turned to tormenting anger.

He opened his eyes. “ You dumb son of a bitch! How could you do that to your friend? ” he screamed. Then, without thinking, Jared pulled back and thrust his fist into the mirror, shattering the glass into the sink. Blood ran down to his elbow, but he stood motionless. The senseless act of rage didn’t make him feel any better. It didn’t take away his pain, and it didn’t allay his fears, but it did remove the mirror. And for a short but fulfilling moment, Jared Lynch didn’t have to face himself.

At five o’clock that evening, Jared arrived home from work exhausted and devastated. For the past seven hours, he had been sitting at his desk, accomplishing nothing. So when Kathleen finally told him to go home, for once he didn’t argue. And when she said the word home , Jared knew she didn’t mean Pop’s house. She meant home – his home, Sara’s home, their home – the only place he wanted to be. As he opened the door and stepped inside, he expected to find an empty apartment. Instead, he was surprised to see his wife.

“Jared, I’m so sorry,” she said, approaching her husband. She opened her arms and took him in.

As he buried his head against her shoulder, he began to cry.

“I’m here,” Sara said, softly running her hands across his back.

The couple stood there, locked together. For a minute, their problems were gone. Then Sara noticed the white gauze bandage on Jared’s hand. “What happened to your hand?” she asked.

“It’s fine. I’m okay,” he said as he pulled away.

“But how’d you-”

Sidestepping his wife, Jared went into the kitchen. “I cut myself with a letter opener. It’s nothing.” He poured himself a glass of red wine, then headed for the bedroom. Sara followed.

Entering the bedroom, Sara noticed that her briefcase was sitting open on the bed. As casually as possible, she closed the front flap and moved it to the floor.

“You really don’t trust me, do you?” Jared asked as the tears welled up inside him. “Sara, I’d never do that again. I know there’s no reason to believe that, but I swear to you, it really is the truth. You caught me off guard with the murder charge, so I guess I got desperate.”

“Jared-”

“I know you don’t want to go through this right now, but I didn’t know where else to go. I just… I don’t know… I really… I love you, Sara.”

“I love you, too,” she said. “And I understand.”

“Then with Lenny…”

“Really. You don’t have to explain. I know what you’re trying to say.”

“You do?” he said. “So you don’t mind if I come back to-”

“Jared, our friend was just killed – I don’t want you to be alone at Pop’s.”

He reached to embrace her.

As they hugged, Sara added, “Do you really think I’m so heartless that I wouldn’t let you stay here tonight?”

Jared pulled away. “What do you mean ‘tonight’?”

“I don’t know, I just thought that since the trial’s coming up…”

He was already grinding his teeth. Without saying a word, he stormed out of the bedroom. As he passed the kitchen, he threw his wineglass in the sink. The glass shattered in every direction, and red wine went flying.

“Damn,” Sara whispered. She just wanted to protect him. Without him there, it’d be one less thing for Sunken Cheeks to harass her about. Chasing after him, she called, “Jared, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. If you want to stay, you can.”

“No way. Not a chance,” he said as he headed for the front door.

“Please – I really want you to stay.” When he didn’t respond, she added, “Honey, I swear to you, I want you to stay. I mean it.”

Jared stopped and turned around. “If you wanted me to stay, you never would’ve said that in the first place.”

“That’s not true. I still-”

“He’s dead!” Jared shouted. “Lenny’s dead and you’re still worried about your files! Do you understand how twisted that is?”

“Jared, please…”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he said. “I’ll be at Pop’s.” He pulled open the door, his back to his wife. “And if you care, Lenny’s sister called. The funeral’s tomorrow, so if you’re not too absorbed in your own damn world, you should be there.”

“Of course I’ll be there.”

“Great. I’ll see you then.” Without looking back, Jared walked out, slamming the door behind him.

“Enough of this,” Kozlow said as he listened to the end of Jared and Sara’s conversation. “She’s kicking our asses all over the mat. Let’s kill her and be done with it.”

“Are you that much of a moron?” Rafferty asked, sitting at the desk in his study. “Sara’s the best bargaining chip I have. Without her, I have nothing over Jared.”

“Who cares about Jared? If he’s not in the house, he’s useless. I say we go back to Victor and tell him to-”

“Enough with Victor. I told you a dozen times, he won’t touch the case. So I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

“All I’m saying is Jared hasn’t done anything lately to-”

“Are you listening?!” Rafferty shouted. “I said I don’t want to hear it!”

In one quick movement, Kozlow reached across the desk and grabbed Rafferty’s left ear. Pulling him forward, he whispered, “How many times do I have to tell you – don’t yell at me. I don’t like it.”

“Let go of me,” Rafferty demanded. When Kozlow obliged, he asked, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Kozlow said. “I just don’t like being talked to like that.”

“You’ve made your point.” Running his hand over his hair, Rafferty slowly regained his composure. When this was done, he’d deal with Kozlow.

“So you think if we want to win, our best bet is still with Jared?” Kozlow asked.

“That’s it,” Rafferty said. “Now you know everything.”

Sitting in her empty apartment, Sara tried to picture his face. She had been friends with Lenny for half a dozen years, but as she knew from personal experience, the simplest things are usually the easiest to forget. In a few weeks’ time, her vivid memories of his physical presence would begin to fade. She’d always remember who he was as a person, and what he was like as a detective, but the artist in Sara wanted something more visual. Sure, she could always look at old photographs, but that wasn’t the same. She wanted to recall how he moved across a room, and how he gestured with his short, fat fingers, and how his shoulders bobbed when he laughed. That was what she needed to remember, and that was what she spent the next two hours trying to do.