On their way out of the building, Cash said, “This is going to be a tough one; the police have a long book on this kid. Anytime something in his neighborhood goes wrong, Bobby is pulled in for questioning. It doesn’t matter that he hasn’t been in trouble in two years, or that he has a steady job. Or that he may be innocent. The cops probably have circumstantial evidence that’s convincing enough for an indictment.”
“Surely if Moreno can prove his whereabouts when the crime was committed, you should be able to get him off.”
“The question is: Can he prove it? If not, Bobby’s years as an incorrigible teenager may speak louder than his last two years of respectability. It isn’t going to be an easy case.
“I’m a bit stressed out. I’m going to take Serenade out for a run and try to shake off the tension. Will you go with me?”
“I’d like that.”
Half an hour later, they were on board Serenade, the mainsail was set, and the sloop was gliding out of the harbor. Christie slipped below, into the salon, and changed into shorts and a T-shirt. The summer sun pressed a rosy pink upon her skin and the breeze brushed her hair into disarray. Cash was at the wheel, but his posture indicated that the sea did not erase his stress.
“Are you still upset about the Moreno boy?” She found it difficult to fathom how anything could disrupt his professional calm so completely.
He shrugged his shoulders in a suggestion of denial, but she knew it was an empty gesture. After adjusting the mainsail, he put the boat on automatic pilot.
“One of the first cases I handled was a young man named Timmy, who was accused of breaking and entering. He came from a good family, parents were involved in community activities, his siblings did well in school. But he had a tough adolescence, got in with the wrong crowd. He got into petty scrapes, nothing serious, but later he drew a night in jail and twenty hours of community service for marijuana possession.
“His parents sent him to Oregon to live with an uncle in a rural area with a strong sense of community. They wanted him away from his buddies. It was a turning point. He got a part-time job and enrolled in the local community college. Two years later, he returned home with a healthy attitude and good job prospects.”
“That sounds great, but there wouldn’t be a story if it ended there.”
“You’re right. Timmy’s past came back to haunt him.” Cash gazed over the water. “A year later Timmy’s world was almost blown apart. He became a suspect in a criminal investigation. The crime took place while he was at his sister’s graduation party. Twenty people could vouch for him, but the police didn’t question a single one. The lead detective had zeroed in on Timmy, and like a dog with a bone, he wouldn’t let go.
“That’s when Timmy’s father came to me. He and my dad had gone to college together and had remained friends. I advised Timmy not to talk to the police unless I was present, and I contacted the detective and demanded to know what evidence he had linking Timmy to the crime. There was none, just suspicion based on Timmy’s past. The detective finally backed off, but the trail was already cold and the crime was never solved. Timmy was never charged, but the stigma remained. He and his parents eventually moved to Oregon to put distance between them and the scandal. Timmy later married and has a successful consulting business. The last time I spoke to him, he confided that he sometimes wakes in a cold sweat from a recurring dream of being rousted out of bed by a cop holding a gun to his head.”
“That’s terrible.”
“We’re supposed to be guaranteed the presumption of innocence, but in real life it doesn’t always work that way. Being fresh out of law school with all my ideals in place, Timmy’s case really affected me. I thought of all the other Timmys who don’t have representation or have to rely on public defenders, who often have more cases than they can possibly handle.”
“And that’s why you’re representing Bobby Moreno,” Christie said.
“That’s why I’m representing Bobby Moreno,” Cash confirmed.
“You’re an okay guy.” She reached out and touched his arm. “I’m glad you told me.”
“You’re a sympathetic listener.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
“I hope you think of me as more than a friend.”
He drew her to him, and she trembled. His hand slid upward along her neck, and he lifted her hair and brought his mouth to her exposed throat. A gasp escaped her lips. She burrowed her face against his chest and her arms reached around him. She breathed in the scent of salt air and aftershave, a clean and manly aroma.
The city skyline became dwarfed as they sailed away from it. The bay stretched endlessly toward an unreachable horizon, the blue turning to gray in the distance. Gulls and pelicans dive-bombed for fish, shattering the water’s glassy surface. She heard the muted sound of a ship’s horn as it set course under the Golden Gate Bridge.
Wrapped in his embrace, nothing was real anymore; not the seabirds, the sky-bound sun, or the city’s diminishing spires. Only she and Cash existed, their bodies tightly aligned. His strength enclosed her like insulation and her body, previously chilled by the wind, was flush with heat. The attraction was strong and her emotions were jumbled.
The boat rocked gently as it plowed through the waves. Cash’s hands framed her face, and his mouth came down on hers in a kiss that took her breath away. She hadn’t felt this way in a long time; her failed love affair in college had hardened her heart. But now, in Cash’s arms, her heart was melting, her emotions revived. How could she be drawn so completely to a man she’d known for so short a time, she wondered. Whatever the reason, it could not be denied: being in this man’s arms was as close to heaven as she could get.
CHAPTER SIX
Monday morning came too soon. Christie had not yet touched base with reality after spending the weekend with Cash. Last night he had reluctantly delivered her to her apartment and they had lingered at the door before saying good night.
There was an unreal quality to the time they had spent together, she mused as she sat at her desk. Flying to a desert hacienda and dining on a moonlit patio wasn’t part of her usual routine. Neither was being kissed on the windswept deck of a sailboat. She wondered if seeing Cash in the cold light of a workday would chase away the enchanting images and leave her questioning whether she had imagined the entire weekend.
But memories were vivid, and nothing could tarnish the quality of the past couple of days. She had become a different person. Cash’s entrance into her life had initiated a metamorphosis and she was like a butterfly that had shed its restrictive cocoon.
The buzzing of her intercom alerted her to a call. She reached for the phone and Cash’s voice boomed over the line.
“Did you get a chance to transcribe the Moreno notes?”
Jolted by the demanding sound of his voice, she hesitated before answering. “I’ve been working on my own caseload this morning, Cash. If it’s an emergency, I can have the notes typed and ready to be picked up by the end of the day.”
“I hate to lean on you this way, Christie, but my paralegals are wrapped up in researching precedents for a case. I’d be indebted to you if you had those notes in my office by four thirty.”
With a hasty thanks, he severed the connection. She tried to brush away irritation at his abruptness by recalling how only last night he had been sensitive and considerate.
There was too much work, though, to dwell on Cash’s telephone manners. She dedicated the entire morning to an examination of the last few pages of a diary belonging to an elderly woman who had died a month ago. The final pages included a recently drafted holographic will. The woman’s instructions for dispersing her estate were scrawled across the paper in a shaky hand, and her signature was barely legible. In California, as in many other states, a holographic will did not need witnesses, just proof of authenticity. The estate’s heirs insisted on a professional examination of the handwriting, hoping to have it declared invalid.