AlTonya Washington - Seductive Memory

Paula had been sensing that girl—her former self—creeping closer to the surface of her consciousness ever since she’d seen Linus at the hospital following Sophie’s accident during her investigation of a previous case. All it had taken was a look from him to have the girl clamoring back to the surface. When he’d taken her hand to shake it, the girl had nearly swooned.

Paula couldn’t begrudge the girl her desires. More than anything, she wanted to give in to them too. The woman in her though...the woman was who she was now. Back then, the woman had swept in heroically to save the girl from being consumed by waves of self-pity. While the girl had only cared about being back in the arms of Linus Brooks, the woman had wanted to know why Linus Brooks had crushed her heart and left it to rot.

“Stop!” Paula gave a violent shake of her head. She was making too much of this now. Besides, she’d pretty much set him straight before storming off that beach in Mexico anyway.

The woman wanted answers, but she was also just fine with keeping things as they were. Yes, she deserved answers about the night things had changed between them so long ago. If she got them though...if she got them and her heart melted for him again... Paula knew neither the girl nor the woman would survive that kind of hurt twice in a lifetime.

Resting her head against the seat back, Paula studied the house at the top of the long winding brick drive.

“Hope you’ve got some words of wisdom, Professor B.” She sighed and rolled her window down to speak into the callbox outside the iron gates securing the home of Dr. Miranda Bormann, Esquire. Paula’s former professor and mentor had been her go-to source for answers to life’s most perplexing questions.

Paula sure hoped the woman hadn’t lost her knack for issuing excellent advice.

* * *

She ascended the wide front steps with more confidence than appreciation. Paula knew her confidence was most likely due to the fact that Miranda Bormann had been the one to reach out to request a visit. While Paula had kept healthy contact with her favorite professor over the years, she was usually the one to connect with offers to get together for dinner or a quick chat over afternoon tea, or coffee as it were.

She smiled, flexing her fingers around the handle of the paper bag she carried. The package contained a tin of Bormann’s favorite French roast. As district attorney of a major city, it had been difficult for Paula to keep to a consistent schedule of visits, but she made a tremendous effort.

It was nice to be visiting by Bormann’s invitation, rather than by her own request. Still, the technicalities didn’t change the fact that Paula was in need of serious mentoring just then. Her troubled past and recent encounter with Linus Brooks weren’t the only things wreaking havoc on her mind now.

Paula was poised to ring the bell when the broad pine door opened before her. She laughed, surprised and delighted to be met by the hostess herself.

Miranda Bormann personified what it meant to retire well. One reason was because the woman considered herself a lifelong student. She’d taken to acquiring firsthand knowledge of the world around her once she’d resigned from her tenure as a renowned law professor. The various LISTSERVs and web groups Paula subscribed to often reported on what hidden corner of the world Bormann had travelled to.

Understated elegance was the phrase that often followed a mention of Miranda Bormann’s name. Her papers and lectures also graced the shelves of some of the finest libraries in the world.

Bormann, however, was no diva. She was happy whether she was speaking over commencement exercises at a major university or working tirelessly in her greenhouse or outdoor flower garden. When the woman answered the door now, it was obvious she’d been getting her hands dirty.

“Looks like I’m dressed for work.” Paula spread her hands to indicate her worn jeans, sneakers and the lightweight sweatshirt under her jacket.

“For a change,” Miranda Bormann scoffed, but her sky-blue eyes were sparkling playfully as she assessed the younger woman’s attire. “It’s usually Prada or Gucci with you. Get in here.” Bormann pulled Paula into a tight embrace, which was followed by a cheek kiss.

“You always said clothes make the woman,” Paula noted when they pulled apart and she presented Bormann with the coffee.

“Ooh!” the noted professor cooed. She sniffed inside the bag as though the aroma of the freshly ground beans was wafting from the can.

“Nooo,” she said, her freckled nose scrunching in disagreement to Paula’s words. “I said perfectly pressed clothes make the woman. Invest in a good iron, and folks won’t know whether you’re in Coco Chanel or JC Penney. Now let’s see if this tastes as good as it smells.” Bormann hugged the bag close and led the way from the foyer.

“I was surprised to get your call,” Paula said as she followed. “ I’m usually the one bugging you for a visit.”

“You never bug me! You keep me spry!” Bormann declared as she took the long corridor to her kitchen at a speed that had Paula sprinting to keep up.

“Glad to hear that.”

Bormann’s quick steps slowed, and she turned to eye Paula speculatively. “What’s that tone?”

Paula shrugged. “Life stuff.”

The playful sparkle in Bormann’s eyes turned sly. “A young man?”

Paula laughed. “We aren’t so young anymore.”

Bormann stuck out her tongue. “You’re a baby. Hank and I broke up four times before we were married and made a go of it for fifty-two years.” She raised thin, perfectly arched brows.

Again, Paula laughed. “It’s complicated.”

“It always is, my love.” Bormann turned and continued her trek down the corridor. “So...young man troubles and? Anything more to go on the day’s agenda?” She breezed into the airy kitchen that looked to be half the size of a football field.

Paula took her place on one of the cushioned high-back stools dotting the long wood-grained island that separated the cooking space from a cozy breakfast nook and sunken den area. “The rest is about work.”

“New case?” Bormann asked while scanning the labeling on the coffee tin.

“No.” Paula focused on the invisible design she traced into the island top. “And I’m thinking about keeping it that way.”

Bormann looked every bit the hard-nosed professor then as she eyed her former student. She set down the coffee tin and moved closer to Paula at the island. “Keeping it that way as District Attorney Paula Starker, or Paula Starker, Esquire?”

“I’m pretty sure District Attorney Paula Starker is history.” Paula slumped against the stool back. “I’m not running for reelection. As for Paula Starker, Esquire... I’m not sure yet.”

“That last case really got to you,” Bormann noted, and began toying with the end of her dark braided ponytail.

“In a pretty big way.” Paula saw no point in denying it.

There was no need to provide details. Paula’s last case had made front page headlines nationwide. The inner workings of the Philadelphia Police Department had been a hot topic for months following the news of a money laundering scandal that had brought down several members of the department.

“It’s not easy to prosecute cops you’ve worked with. I’ve bought Christmas presents for some of their kids and—” Paula couldn’t continue. Her thoughts went to top members of the brass and even police academy instructors.

“I almost lost my best friend in the mix,” she added, thinking of Chief of Detectives Sophia Hail-Rodriguez, who’d been targeted when she’d gotten too close to the truth. “That one hit way too close to home.” She shuddered while shaking her head. “I’ve had enough, Professor B. I mean I—I still love the law. I... I just don’t know what my place is in it anymore.”