An hour later, back at the office, a massive celebration ensued. Somehow, in the space of an hour, Christina managed to get the whole lobby area festooned with streamers and ribbons. Champagne flowed. The outer doors were locked; the office was closed for business. Everyone wore silly hats and giggled giddily-Ben and Christina and Jones and his wife, Paula, and even Loving. And at the center of it all was Ray Goldman-looking better than Ben had seen him in seven years. He was wearing street clothes-for the first time in seven years-and even if he hadn’t had a chance yet for perfect grooming, the watery glow in his eyes and the amazed smile on his face more than made up for it.
“I still can’t believe it,” Ray said, a happily befuddled expression on his face.
“Believe it,” Ben said. “You’re a free man.”
“A toast,” Christina said, raising her glass. “To Ray Goldman, who the whole world now knows is innocent-as we knew all along.”
“Amen!” everyone shouted.
“And let’s have a moment for Erin Faulkner, one of the bravest, strongest women I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. Despite all her troubles, she tried to do the right thing. And in the end-she did.”
“Bravo,” Ben said quietly.
“And,” she went on, glass still raised, “a toast to that great and powerful legal warrior, Ben Kincaid!”
“Hear, hear!” the others concurred.
“Champion of truth, justice, and the American way. Defender of the poor and oppressed. Slayer of the great and toupéed beast Derek.”
Ben cleared his throat. “I think you should be sharing in this toast, co-counsel.”
She beamed. “If you insist.”
“I can’t get over how well this case turned out,” Loving announced. His huge frame was bobbling-too much bubbly, Ben suspected. “Ben finally won a case in front of Derek. Ray finally wins his get-out-of-jail-free card. And I learned to appreciate sushi.”
The rest of the room stared at him.
“Well, I did. It’s weird, but I really like that squishy stuff. I’ve been back to that joint three times.”
Jones whispered into Christina’s ear. “Soon we’ll be hearing about the squid conspiracy to take over the world.”
“What happened to Mike?” Ben inquired. “He should be sharing in the accolades.”
“Blackwell called,” Jones explained. “Yanked him back to headquarters.”
“Is he in trouble?”
Jones shrugged his shoulders. “Why else would Blackwell call?”
“First of all,” Chief Blackwell said, “I want to extend my congratulations to the two of you on your outstanding detective work.”
Mike, sitting in a chair opposite the man’s desk, stared at him. You do? Was the old man mellowing, or was he in an extended fantasy fugue state? When Mike caught the Kindergarten Killer, Blackwell barely nodded. When he nailed Detective Sergeant McNaughton’s murderer, Blackwell hardly grunted. But now he’s getting effusive congratulations?
“I know this case hasn’t been easy for either of you. But you stuck with it, and you brought it to a successful conclusion. I’m putting strong commendations into both of your files.”
Baxter, sitting in the chair beside Mike, nodded. “That’s much appreciated, sir,” she said. “But that’s not why you called us here, is it?”
Blackwell seemed disconcerted. “No. It isn’t.”
Mike jumped in. “Chief, if it’s about that report I filed on Sergeant Baxter, I withdraw everything I-”
Blackwell waved him away. “No, no. I just-well, I need to know what you two want to do.”
Baxter’s head tilted. “How do you mean?”
“Look, let’s talk turkey. I forced the two of you to work together. Neither of you wanted it. But I thought it was important. I wanted Baxter to get a fair shake-something she didn’t get in Oklahoma City, I’m sorry to say. And I thought the best way to accomplish that was to pair her with the best and most open-minded man in homicide.”
Mike’s eyes widened. Was that a compliment? This was a red-letter day.
“But I know it’s been a tempestuous relationship from the start.”
Baxter squirmed. “It hasn’t been… that bad…”
“You’re trying to put a good face on it. And I appreciate that. But I know what’s what. I’ve got eyes and ears. All over the place. I know you two have been at war from the start. I hate to think what was going on in the car when that Knight woman was killed.”
Mike and Baxter exchanged a look.
“So the bottom line is this-if you want to be reassigned, I’ll go along with it. I think this case has given Baxter the cred she needed. There’s no need to Super Glue the two of you together forever, if you don’t want it. Mind you, I think you make a pretty good team.”
Mike nodded. “Do you really?”
“And I think you could learn to work together. But I won’t force the issue. If you want to be assigned to new partners, I’ll do it.”
Baxter’s head slowly turned. Mike’s did the same. But they seemed to be avoiding each other’s eyes.
“So tell me what you want. Will you keep on working together? Or shall I reassign you?”
Slowly, gradually, Mike and Baxter found each other’s eyes. But neither spoke.
“Okay,” Blackwell said, drumming his fingers on his desk, “do we have a verdict?”
Mike and Baxter continued staring. Silently.
“Well,” Blackwell said, his impatience obviously growing. “What’s it going to be?”
The party was winding down. The last bottle had been uncorked, but no one was drinking anymore. Jones and Loving had both fallen asleep on the sofa. Christina was at Jones’s workstation, banging away at his computer keyboard.
“What are you up to?” Ben asked, peering over her shoulder.
“Deleting everything on Jones’s hard drive,” she answered nonchalantly.
Ben’s eyes ballooned. “What! Are you nuts? He’ll-”
“Relax. I backed it all up on Zip disks.” She smiled. “But he won’t know that.”
“Christina, have you lost your mind? When Jones sees what you’ve done, he’ll freak! We’re talking office-manager meltdown!”
“Yes,” she agreed, as she pushed Delete for the final time. “That’ll teach him to send me out to interview Spider-Man.”
Ben poured himself another drink and pulled up a chair beside Ray. Christina had fallen into a chair, and her eyelids were drooping. What an incredible woman she is, Ben thought, not for the first time. How lucky they were to have her. How lucky he was-
Or could be?
“I still can’t believe it,” Ray said. He had probably drunk too much champagne, but after seven years without, Ben thought he was entitled. “It doesn’t seem real.”
“It will,” Ben assured him. “The first night you sleep in your own bed.”
“My own bed? I don’t have a bed. I haven’t had an apartment for years.”
“It’ll take a while to get your life jump-started. But we’ll be here to help.”
“I don’t know where to begin. I haven’t got a penny.”
“I can help there, too,” Ben said. “The State of Oklahoma has a trust fund for persons who have been wrongfully convicted. As often as the state has done it, they just about have to. We’ll submit some papers, maybe file a friendly suit. We’ll take care of it.” He smiled. “You won’t get wealthy beyond measure, but it’ll be enough to get you back on your feet again.”
“Will it be enough to let me shop at Miss Jackson’s?”
Ben sighed. Ray was thinking of Carrie.
“I know it’s crazy,” Ray said quietly. “It’s been so long. But I can’t stop thinking about her. For the last seven years, she’s been the object of my every dream, every fantasy. I mean-it’s not as if I’ve had a chance to meet other women. I have to play this one through.”
“I understand.”
“I don’t know what we’ll talk about. When I see her again. I mean, I don’t know from eye shadow.”
Ben nodded. There was no chance that conversation was going to turn out well. But when it was over, perhaps he could begin to move on.
“It’s such a relief. Not only to be out of prison, but to have all the loose ends tied up. To have everyone know once and for all that I really did not commit that heinous crime. Including Carrie. I know she had her doubts about me before, but now that she knows-now that she absolutely knows-that should make a difference. Shouldn’t it?”
“I hope so.”
“I know you don’t think I have a chance, but so what if I don’t? Better to try and flop than to think about it all the time and never do it. If I learned anything during my seven years behind bars, it’s this-every day is precious. Every day. You can’t waste a single minute.”
“Got big plans?”
“Oh, not in the way you mean. I don’t want to climb Mount Everest or run with the bulls at Pamplona. That stuff doesn’t seem important to me anymore. What really matters-what I missed most-are the little things. Quiet things. Taking a long walk at twilight. Reading a good book. Having fun with someone you love.”
The phone rang. Ben picked it up, then half a second later put it down again. “Ray, would you excuse me? I’ve got to run.”
“Sure, why?”
Ben grabbed his coat and headed for the door. “My little girl is about to give birth.”