Julie Garwood - The Ideal Man

Christopher Hammond, the lead attorney, had the most insincere smile she’d ever seen. He was a tall, distinguished-looking man, who, in his designer suit and perfectly knotted silk tie, was elegantly dressed… except for one little flaw.

The Landrys sat at the defense table, stone-faced. Mrs. Landry in her conservative white blouse and cardigan sweater and Mr. Landry in his navy blue business suit looked the picture of propriety. Ellie had not been in the courtroom during Willis Cogburn’s testimony, but Max had told her how Willis had described in great detail his relationship with the Landrys and then recounted the actions he’d taken under their orders. The slick attorneys did their best to discredit him, but Willis held up under the pressure. After an hour of testimony, he had actually become brave enough to make eye contact with the Landrys.

Hammond, his hands behind his back and staring at the floor, paced in front of the witness box for a few seconds, weighing his words before addressing Ellie.

“You have an impressive résumé, Dr. Sullivan,” he began. “Someone as young as you a trauma surgeon… and to have received the recognition that you have… very impressive indeed.”

If he expected her to chitchat, he was mistaken. She simply stared at him and waited. Once Hammond realized he couldn’t charm her, he got down to business. He asked her to tell him what Willis Cogburn had said while she was attending to his injury on the roadside.

She answered his question but didn’t embellish.

“Did you believe Mr. Cogburn when he told you he had been hired to kill you?”

“Yes, I did believe him.”

“It’s been established through testimony in this court that Mr. Cogburn has lied on numerous occasions to avoid prosecution. Your reasons for believing a habitual liar?”

The prosecutor started to object but sat back down as Ellie responded.

“He shot at me. So, yes, I believe he was trying to kill me.”

“We are not here to determine Mr. Cogburn’s actions,” he reminded. “We are here to determine whether or not Mr. Cogburn was acting under the instructions of Mr. and Mrs. Landry. Do you consider yourself to be observant, Dr. Sullivan?”

“I do.”

“You were in a terrifying situation,” he said. “Willis Cogburn has admitted firing several shots at your vehicle in an attempt to blow up the fuel tank. Fortunately, he missed, but he did shoot out a tire.”

“Is there a question, or are you just reminiscing?” the prosecutor asked.

Hammond continued, “Do you remember how many shots were fired?”

“I believe three shots were fired.”

“But you’re not certain.”

“No.”

“Yet you claim to be observant.”

“I do.”

“Under gunfire, I would think your perceptions would be greatly compromised. You were running for your life.”

“Again,” the prosecutor said, “is there a question in Mr. Hammond’s ramblings?”

“Your ability to assess would be affected, wouldn’t it?”

Ellie looked at the judge, then turned to Hammond. “If you’ll recall, I’m a trauma surgeon. I’m trained for crisis situations.”

“Yes, of course you are, but you have to admit this was different. You were being hunted by a crazed man who believed he had been hired to kill you. A delusional gunman.”

Ellie didn’t respond but waited for another question.

“Mr. Cogburn was in a great deal of pain at the time, was he not?”

“Yes. He’d been shot.”

“Tell us exactly what you think you heard Mr. Cogburn say while you were treating him.”

She repeated the conversation again word for word.

When she was finished, Hammond said, “Even if he had said those words, you do accept that Mr. Cogburn could have been delusional and you could have made an inaccurate assessment as to his state of mind. After all, you’d just gone through a traumatic event yourself.”

“His eyes were clear, and he was lucid,” she said.

“These were your observations?”

“Yes. Willis Cogburn wasn’t delusional and he wasn’t lying,” she insisted.

“So you believe your observations are that accurate?” he asked in a mocking tone.

Ellie was becoming irritated. Why was the attorney continuing with these inane questions?

“Yes, I do. I think I’m very observant,” she said. She should have stopped there, but she couldn’t resist. “I observe that the rash on your left hand isn’t going to get better if you continue to use the same ointment. You’re allergic to it. I observe that the gentleman in the third row on the left has a bad case of conjunctivitis-pinkeye, in layman’s terms. And the woman in the second row has a bag of candies in her purse, and she’s trying to figure out a way to eat them without making noise. They’re M &M’s. I also observe that your associate attorney at the defense table keeps looking at his watch and is very anxious to get out of here because he appears to have something going on with the court reporter.”

The associate gave a look of panic and then dropped his head, staring at the desk.

Ellie paused, looked Hammond in the eye, and said, “And I observe you’re unzipped.”

The attorney turned crimson with embarrassment. He hastily zipped his fly.

“No more questions.”

Max and Ellie planned to be married in Minneapolis, eleven months after he proposed. He wasn’t happy about waiting, but as long as she told him she loved him every day and slept in his arms every night, he didn’t complain too much.

Ellie didn’t want to rush. It was important to her that her family be able to attend. She asked Annie to be her maid of honor. She was the older of the twins by two minutes, so Ellie figured Ava couldn’t throw a fit.

The wedding was simple but joyful. Annie’s baby girl, Meghan, was almost four months old and smiling all the time. She could usually be found in the crook of her grandfather’s arm. He doted on her. Since Patterson’s death and the birth of his first grandchild, Ellie’s father looked twenty years younger. He’d even started exercising, walking a couple of miles every morning. He was determined to stay fit so that he would be around to watch his granddaughter grow up.

As a temporary solution, Annie had moved in with her parents until after the baby was born and she could decide what she was going to do with her life. She had passed the bar in California and knew that she would eventually move back to San Diego, but she didn’t have any idea where she wanted to work. Her parents were helping her pay off her student loans, though she vowed she was going to repay every penny.

Max had kept his promise to her. Through his connections, he discovered the whereabouts of Lucas Ryan, Annie’s lover. An old buddy from the FBI academy linked Max with Michael Buchanan, a Navy Seal, who was currently stationed in San Diego. Buchanan explained that he couldn’t give out any sensitive information, but he’d see what he could do. Within the week, Max got his call. Lucas Ryan had been sent to Afghanistan, and that was all the information Buchanan could give. Max was told nothing about what Ryan was doing there or when he would be home.

One summer morning, with Meghan in her arms, Annie opened the front door, and there he stood, the man who had broken her heart. His left leg was in a cast, and he was using a cane. She wasn’t sympathetic. She wanted to grab the cane and hit him over the head with it. But she also wanted to hug him. She stood there staring up at him and didn’t have the faintest idea what to say. He looked wonderful. Dark hair, dark eyes, tanned face, great body-he was an extremely attractive man. No wonder she had fallen for him. He was tall, dark, and handsome.