Донна Эндрюс - Access denied

"Only one that I didn't want to mention in there. Because I don't want to upset Turing. But it's something you should know."

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Sam nodded and looked expectant.

"Turing's assuming that her clone set this whole thing in motion as a plea for help. Maybe to help us figure out how to rescue her. Or just to let us know she's still alive and not to give up on her."

"You don't think that's what's going on?"

"I think it is, but I don't know it is. Did Turing tell you the whole story about how we found out about her clone?"

Sam nodded.

"So you know that when we first met her, she was working with Nestor Garcia. Turing thinks Garcia duped T2, and that she has now seen the light and is on our side, or would be if Garcia weren't holding her captive."

"But that could be wishful thinking," Sam said. "Turing doesn't see that possibility? Shouldn't you tell her?"

"She sees it, yes. And I make sure she doesn't forget it. But she doesn't like the idea, and even she would admit, if pressed, that she's not the most unbiased judge when it comes to T2's actions."

"So maybe it's up to the rest of us to be a little more skeptical whenever this T2 is concerned," Sam said. "To make up for Turing having a soft spot for her little sister, as she calls her."

"Exactly," Maude said. "And also, when you're planning your campaign to emancipate the AIPs, remember that there's no guarantee they'll all turn out like Turing."

"Some could turn out like the Terminator and have it in for all humans."

Maude nodded. Sam looked thoughtful for a few moments, and then reached up, touched the side of her head, and winced.

"Sorry," Maude said. "I shouldn't worry you with things like that when you're still not feeling well.

"No, it's something I need to know," Sam said. She shook her head, carefully. "Y'all do know how to make life interesting."

EME Donna Andrews

"Probably more interesting than you want it to be."

"Actually, no," Sam said, leaning against her car. "You want to know the honest to God truth? Apart from getting whacked over the head, this whole week has been the best time I've had in years. I don't just mean that it was fun, although in a weird way it was. But I've felt like I was really doing something. When I got out of law school, I joined the public defender's office because I wanted to help the weak and downtrodden. And I'm not saying that my clients weren't victimized by society, but I began thinking the best thing I could do for the really weak and downtrodden was to lose as many cases as possible and keep my clients from going back onto the street and causing more damage. You find yourself thinking like that, and you know it's time to leave. I figured with my own practice, I could do more good. But when you're first starting out, you take the clients you can get if you want to make ends meet. And apart from the Pis, whom I like, I get mostly drunk drivers and lousy drivers. But now—I won't starve if I take a few less of the DWI cases. I can make time to do something else."

"Such as?" Maude asked.

"Well, starting to plan for Turing's future legal problems is tougher and more interesting than anything I've done since I left law school," Sam said. "And trying to help Rose Lafferty straighten out her life makes me feel better than just about every case I've won in the last couple of years. Which reminds me—what kind of jobs do you have that you can hire Rose for?"

"I have no idea," Maude said, laughing. "Does she have any office skills?"

"No idea," Sam said. "But she's not stupid. She's trainable. And motivated, now that she sees some hope of helping herself and her kid. But it's hard to get a job when you haven't had one for months. She needs a break to get her back on track."

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"I'll talk to Turing," Maude said. "We'll see if we can come up with something."

"Good," Sam said. "I'll call you tomorrow and see what you've come up with."

Maude shook her head as Sam drove off. She had the feeling there would be a great many Rose Laffertys, once Sam got going.

They'd come up with something.

While he waited in the hotel's driveway for Claudia to come down, Tim pulled out his newly reclaimed cell phone. Nice to have it back before he completely forgot how to use it. He turned it on and hit the key that retrieved his messages.

He listened impassively through the accumulated messages from Nikki. The first, irritated, asked why he was late for dinner. The second tersely asked why he'd stood her up. The third, a rambling hysterical message that she'd had to call back a second time to complete, accused him of being a two-timing bastard and worse. The final, sounding coldly angry, consisted of only six words. "I'll show you. You'll be sorry."

Okay, the first two had been left the night of the murder, but as for the rest—if only she'd bothered to listen to his message. The one where he'd told her he'd temporarily lost his cell phone. But then, come to think of it, listening hadn't ever been her strong suit.

He wondered what she'd been planning. Whether her being at his office when Garcia went there was an accident, or whether Garcia had somehow found and used her. He'd probably never know.

Maybe, eventually, he'd convince himself that her death wasn't entirely his fault.

"Stop beating yourself up," Claudia said, opening the door to throw her suitcase in the backseat.

EMM Donna Andrews

Til be fine," Tim said. "Just tired. Not much time for sleeping by the time I got home last night."

"Yeah, you need about forty-eight straight hours of sack time, that's all," Claudia said.

It wasn't all, and they both knew it, but at least Claudia knew when to let things drop.

"So when you get back, are you definitely going to stay with Maude until you have time to go apartment hunting?" he asked aloud.

Naude was cutting up lettuce for the salad when her cell phone rang. Turing.

"This had better not be work," she said, but in what she hoped Turing would recognize as a playful voice. "After last night, I consider putting in a full day at work above and beyond the call."

"Very much above and beyond," Turing said. "I wish you'd taken my suggestion and gone home early."

"I think getting back into my normal routine was what I needed, more than anything," Maude said. "Not to mention making progress on finding an assistant. Two of the people I interviewed today look good. So I'm tired, but feeling better."

"That's good," Turing said. "It was only a suggestion. I wasn't trying to tell you what to do."

"I knew that," Maude said. Turing was in an odd mood, she thought.

"I've been thinking," Turing said. "I realize that what I've been trying to do is unfair. Forcing you to spend so much time on the garden just because I'm interested in it. I just wanted you to know that I realize that now.

"That's a relief," Maude said. "And I realize you were doing it with the best intentions. It's just that you weren't seeing it from my perspective."

"It never occurred to me that gardening was so much work," Turing said. "You should have said something sooner."

"I will, next time something like this happens," Maude said.

"So tell me what you want to do about the garden," Turing continued. "If you like, I can hire someone to help with whatever you want. To maintain it, or to take out anything you don't want and put something low maintenance in its place. Slow-growing shrubs. Mulch. Or concrete. Whatever. Just tell me what you want, and I'll arrange it. I'm researching reliable landscaping services."

"What I want," Maude repeated.

"If you're not sure, I can have one of the services come over and do a proposal."

"No, that's not necessary," Maude said. She glanced out of the French doors. A lanky figure in a faded FBI T-shirt stood, hands on his hips, frowning at a rather large, weedy-looking bush. Maude was, according to Special Agent Norris, badly behind in her pruning. She wasn't sure whether his offer to help out with the pruning was a peace offering or if he really enjoyed messing around in a garden. Fine with her either way.