“I just got in last night and the Times sent me to cover the sentencing. I didn't know about the security checks,” she babbled, feeling like a total idiot.
“Hey, take it easy, baby,” Blakely said. Taking her elbow he turned towards the guard and said, “It's all right, Charlie. The lady's with me—I'll vouch for her.”
“You say so, it's good enough for me, Detective,” the guard said promptly. He shoved the pile of clothes she'd laid on his desk at Sadie who hurriedly began putting them on again. “She was holdin' up the line anyway,” he added, beckoning for the next person to move forward.
“It's … it's so good to see you again,” Sadie panted, hopping on one foot as she tried to replace her high-heeled shoes. Blakely obligingly slowed down and let her hold on to his elbow to perform this operation.
“Yeah, 'M glad I ran into you, kid. Holt and me figured we'd never hear from you again.”
“Well all you had to do was pick up the vid-screen and call,” Sadie said indignantly, hobbling in the uncomfortable heels as fast as she could down the marble hallway after him as he resumed walking.
Blakely gave her a piercing glance out of his deep blue eyes.
“We figured you didn't want to hear from us or you woulda called,” he said quietly. “We've both been missin' you, Sadie. Missin' you a lot. Heard you got nominated for a S.
P. Good work,” he added quickly, not giving her time to remark on his last words.
But Sadie thought she felt a faint tickle of some emotion—sorrow, loss, hope?—in the back of her brain. Could it be that the bond wasn't completely gone after all? She supposed she would know for sure when she saw Holt.
Oh boy, here we go again, she thought. But strangely, the idea didn't upset her the way she would have expected it to.
“I'm working for the Times now.” She smiled up at him a little shyly. “They called and offered me a job as correspondent after I got the nomination. I, uh, I never expected to run into you or Holt in the line of duty though. Where is he, anyway?”
“Saving me a seat. It's packed in there,” Blakely said. “C'mon, let's see if we can squeeze you in.”
Squeeze was the right word, Sadie thought, when they got settled in the long, bench-like seats that lined the courtroom. She was lucky to have run into Blakely, she thought, because there was no way she could've gotten such a good seat otherwise. People were actually standing three deep along the walls, craning their necks to see the front of the room whereas she and Blakely and Holt were in the second row of seats with a clear view of everything.
Holt had greeted her with more reservation but no less warmth than his partner and now she sat jammed between the two of them, her heart pounding and her breath coming faster than normal, trying to ignore the emotions she felt from both men and take notes on the court proceedings. The bond was still there all right; it was amazing how it had come to life as soon as she was sandwiched between the two of them again. It had flared like a smoldering ember that had been suddenly dowsed with lighter fluid, seemingly stronger than ever and apparently ready to pick up exactly where they had all left off.
Sadie wasn't sure how she felt about that. Being between them reminded her of how much she had missed them both, missed the closeness they had shared. The warm golden current that was currently buzzing through her nerve endings like a low-level electrical charge made her feel mildly drugged with her body's need for physical contact. How long since she had been touched? Since she had made love to anyone? Not since the night they had healed her for the last time. Sadie tried hard not to think about it.
But she was wary of letting herself be sucked back into the seductively sexual relationship they had been involved in before she went back to Io. Also, she wondered at the way her body was reacting so strongly to the proximity of both men. It was like she had been starving for the last six months and suddenly someone had sat her down at an all you can eat buffet and told her to dig in. Was she actually somehow physically addicted to them? Surely not … she crossed her legs uneasily, pressing her thighs together and trying to ignore the wet heat she felt building between them.
Sadie tried to keep her mind on the trial and wondered what Blakely and Holt thought. They kept exchanging those little half-glances over her head that spoke volumes without saying a word. She felt hope and need from both of them although the hope was considerably stronger from the optimistic Blakely and fainter from Holt. If only she'd had a little more time to orient herself here in NNYC before she'd run into them! She was lonely and alone, a small-colony girl lost in the big city and it made her feel vulnerable and needy. It didn't help any that she felt Holt and Blakely wanting to hold her close between them and ease her pain either. It would be so easy to let them … too easy, she thought warily, resisting an urge to squirm like a kid in her seat. Goddess, she could barely breathe.
The proceedings went fairly quickly, or at least Sadie supposed they were quick. She had never covered a trial before. Van Heusen had already been convicted of numerous crimes including the ownership of illegal flesh tanks and the use of black market brains. He sat on the defendant's side of the room beside a small army of attorneys and legal aids, resplendent in a maroon synthi-silk suit with the huge diamond ring he had been wearing the night they first met him flashing ostentatiously from the thumb of his right hand. Sadie supposed he had decided to go out in style although she thought that flaunting his wealth with the ring and the suit was a bad idea, especially while the jury was settling punitive damages for the colonists who had been wronged.
“Old bastard isn't givin' an inch,” Blakely whispered low in her ear giving her a little shiver. Sadie nodded, agreeing with him. Van Heusen sat ramrod straight in the high-backed chair as he listened to the judge levy fines in excess of a billion credits to cover the costs of growing new bodies and providing emotional counseling for the colonists whose brains had been stolen. The judge seized all his property in the name of the court and sentenced him to three consecutive life sentences.
“Guess he should have grown himself a new body while he had the chance,” Holt whispered in her other ear. “Even if it wasn't exactly perfect.” Sadie nodded again, trying to ignore the second little shiver that ran down her spine when his hot breath blew across her ear and concentrate on the proceedings. Van Heusen had ga mbled and lost. There was no way he would be able to fulfill his dream of immortality now. He would die in prison long before he was able to get out and arrange to have a new body grown for him. His fastidiousness and vanity over the latex-like skin texture of a flesh tank-grown body had been his undoing.
At last it was over and not a minute too soon to suit Sadie. The entire time she'd been sitting between Blakely and Holt she had felt herself becoming more and more aroused until concentrating enough to ta ke notes on the trial became a contest of wills between her conscience and her libido. I have a deadline. I have to pay attention to this! she told herself sternly. But her body was humming so loudly with sexual tension that she could barely hear herself think.
“…out for a drink?”
“Huh?” she asked, looking up to see both sets of blue eyes looking at her.
“I said Holt and me know a great little bar not far from here. How 'bout a drink?” Blakely ran a hand nervously through his dark curls.
Sadie thought about it—really thought hard. On the surface it sounded harmless but if she went out for a drink with these two now she would, in all probability, wake up in their bed tomorrow once again full of remorse and guilt. She wished she could shake that kind of small-colony thinking right out of her head but she couldn't. Love it or hate it, Goshen and everything she had learned there was part of her. She had come out here to start a new life and that was what she intended to do. Even though you love them? Even though you need them the way they need you? The little voice didn't sound like Gerald or Aunt Minnie or anybody else she knew but it didn't sound like logic either. I have a deadline, Sadie reminded herself. I have a brand new life and I don't want to blow it.
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“Guys … Blake, Holt, I'm really sorry,” she said reluctantly, feeling like a jerk. “But, well … I've got a dead-line to meet…”
“Sure, we understand, Sadie. That's okay. Some other time, maybe,” Holt said quickly. The blond man's face was impassive but Blakely had a harder time hiding his emotions.
“At least let us give you a lift home.” Blakely reached out and took her hand. “We could catch up a little on the way and you'd get home in time to work on your story. Everybody wins. Huh, kid?”
“Well,” Sadie felt herself wavering. She remembered how low on credit she was and how much taking another hover-taxi would cost. “All right,” she said at last. “But you have to promise to take me straight home. I really have to work on this story—it's my big break and I don't want to blow it.”
“Now where have we heard that before?” Holt rolled his eyes and Sadie couldn't help laughing. Blakely grinned and squeezed her hand and Sadie found herself thinking how good it felt to be with them … how right. It's not just sex with them … it's everything.
“Just let me gather my notes,” she said.
“Detective Holtstein? Detective Blakely? Excuse me?” The courtroom had cleared out fairly well now and all three of them turned their heads to see whose voice was echoing in the nearly empty room.
Van Heusen was standing, surrounded by a phalanx of attorneys with a wider circle of guards around them and he was calling in his high, old man's voice and gesturing for them to come over, the overhead lights glittering on the huge diamond thumb ring he wore. Sadie saw the Holt and Blakely exchange a brief glance. The blond detective frowned and shook his head slightly but Blakely shrugged and walked towards Van Heusen anyway. Looking like a thundercloud, Holt followed reluctantly.
Sadie trailed behind them, helpless to do otherwise.
“Gentlemen, I was hoping you'd consent to speak with me one last time.” Van Heusen smiled genially, the wrinkles around his gray eyes crinkling with emotion.
“And?” Holt asked tersely. Sadie could see the tension in his broad shoulders and realized that even with all the security checks and guards around, the tall blond detective still didn't trust Van Heusen.
“And I just wanted to congratulate the men who finally caught me.” Van Heusen beamed at them both as though they had played a particularly funny practical joke which he had been the butt of. “Do you gentlemen know, do you have any idea how many times I've been arrested, detained, accused and arraigned? But you two were the only ones who could ever make it stick. You caught me—you and your lovely assistant there,” he nodded at Sadie who looked silently back. “Seriously, detectives, congratulations are in order. Part of it, I must allow, was my own foolishness. But most of it was you, all you and I for one would like to shake your hands. Would you allow me?”
He held out one thin, cadaverous hand and Sadie saw that it trembled ever so slightly, making the huge, glittering diamond on his thumb throw fractured sparkles of light from every angle.
Holt looked at the hand as though Van Heusen had offered him a dead rat. “I'm afraid I'm going to take a pass,” was all he said.
“Ah, c'mon, Holt. What the hell. I'll shake with you, Van Heusen.” Blakely extended his hand and Van Heusen clasped it firmly in both of his, the diamond winking at the sudden gesture. Sadie thought she saw the dark-haired detective wince but he didn't say anything and when the shake was over, Van Heusen turned back to Holt.
“I'm more sorry than I can say that you wouldn't do me the honor of shaking hands, Detective Holtstein,” he said gravely. “But perhaps I might be permitted to give you something else instead. Oh no,” he shook his head, already reading the rejection in the set of Holt's square jaw. “No, it's nothing of any monetary value. My attorneys can vouch for that so please, don't be alarmed, or think that I am trying to bribe you in any way. After all, what would be the point?” He gestured around the empty court room, indicating that everything was already over and done with and laughed heartily.
“No, it is simply a small communication reel I wish you to have. Feel free to play it for your own attorney if you have one. On it I have recorded some of my thoughts and feelings, the last mutterings, perhaps, of an old man who isn't long for this System. You've been worthy adversaries and since I haven't any friends to speak of, not that I haven't bought anyway,” he nodded contemptuously at the men and women in expensively cut suits around him. “I would like you to have it. Burn it or destroy it or maybe just keep it for a time when you can find it in your heart to forgive an old charlatan for his sins. Will you do that for me?” he held out the fingernail-sized com-reel beseechingly. Grudgingly, Holt held out his hand and allowed Van Heusen to drop the reel into his palm which he slipped into the breast pocket of his well-tailored black suit. “Thank you,” Van Heusen said, smiling at them both. “You've made an old man very happy today. I hope you both get the future that you deserve.” And with that, he turned and was lost in the sea of attorneys and guards as they led him away.
“Well that was weird,” Sadie remarked as they walked out past the security guards who waved them past without any trouble once they recognized Blakely and Holt.
“Nah, old guy just wanted to set things right. I wonder what's on that reel,” Blakely said thoughtfully. “Ya know, he's got a hell of a grip for his age, nearly squeezed my hand off.” He winced and shook the hand Van Heusen had clasped. “still kinda stings a little.”
“That's what you get for shaking hands with the old pimp,” Holt lectured.
“Ah, Holt, where's the harm?” Blakely shrugged. “C'mon, let's get this little lady home so she can get to work on the article for her next Pulitzer.” He threw an arm around Sadie's waist and Holt copied his partner's motion and wrapped his own long arm around her shoulders.
“I haven't got the first one yet,” she reminded them, finding herself falling automatically into step with them as they walked to the parking garage.
“Just give it time, honey,” Holt told her comfortably. “Just give it time.”
Chapter 22
By the time they had reached their hover-craft, Blakely was feeling decidedly strange. He felt hot, then cold, then so hot he had to take off his jacket and unbutton the top two buttons of his shirt. His head had started to throb too; probably it was all because he had missed his morning caffeine-brew. Holt, who drank mostly herbal tea, had insisted they had no time to stop at the Starbucks on the way and Blakely just wasn't himself without his daily jolt of caffeine. Still, it didn't usually give him such an intense headache. He tried to shake it off and just concentrate on being with Sadie again. It was so damn good to see her, especially when he and Holt had figured she was out of their lives forever—her choice, not theirs. Several times in the past six months he had wanted to pick up the vid-screen and give her a call but Holt had always vetoed the idea.
“We've gotta let her know we're still interested. Let her know we're thinkin' of her,” Blakely had protested but Holt always said the same thing…”We don't want to pressure her. If she comes to us it's got to be her choice.”
The dark-haired detective didn't completely agree with that point of view but he was willing to defer to Holt's judgment—for a while. Actually, he had been on the point of deciding that when they got home from the trial he would call Sadie no matter what Holt said. He could tell her about Van Heusen's sentencing—it would be the perfect excuse to remind her of their history together and let her know they still cared. He had never been more shocked or excited in his life when he'd rounded the corner, looking for a caffeine-brew dispenser and seen her standing in the fourth security check line half naked and completely embarrassed.
She looked absolutely stunning, Blakely thought, stealing a glance in her direction as she and Holt talked. Sometimes in the past six months he had wondered if he'd exaggerated her beauty in his memory but if anything he had downplayed it. Her long silky, honey-colored hair swung around the shoulders of her cobalt suit which emphasized all her luscious curves to p
erfection. The big, amber-brown eyes were as deep and beautiful as he remembered and just as easy to get lost in.
Blakely knew that Holt thought Sadie's being here in New New York had everything to do with her new career move and nothing to do with them but surely even his pessimistic partner couldn't ignore the way the three way bond throbbed between them and how the T-link opened and poured out energy with an intensity that he had never felt before. Even with minimal contact, they were generating enough energy to light up half the city, he thought.
“Blake, you driving?”
“Huh?” He blinked and realized the other two were looking at him expectantly. “Oh, sorry. Sure.” He juggled the suit jacket he was carrying to his other arm and reached in his pocket to pull out the key card then fumbled it through suddenly clumsy fingers. “Oops,” he mumbled dully.
Sadie bent to retrieve the card and held it out to him, looking concerned. “You all right, Blake?” she asked. “It's not like you to be clumsy. And you're sweating too.”
“Just tired.” He made an effort to stand up straight. And suddenly, he was. His arms and legs felt like they were all made of lead. “Maybe Holt c'n drive. I'm beat.” He motioned for Sadie to hand his partner the key card instead.
“Now I'm worried,” Holt said, frowning. “Since when do you ever let me drive? Especially in the city?”
Blakely shrugged as well as his new lead shoulders would let him. “Not feelin' so good is all.” Holt opened the craft and he clambered awkwardly in and collapsed in the back seat, leaving Sadie and his partner to take the front.
As they drove, Holt kept glancing worriedly back at him until Blakely insisted he watch the road. By then even his tongue seemed to be dipped in lead and his words were coming out slightly slurred. Sadie and Holt were whispering in the front seat and Blakely caught the words 'hospital' and 'emergency room'.
Making an effort to sit up he leaned forward to make himself heard. “Not gonna go to no damn hospital, Holt,” he said, as clearly as he could. “Just tired 'cause you didn't let me have my caffeine today. Maybe comin' down with the flu. Drop me off at home 'n I'll be fine.” Holt gave him a disapproving look and Sadie gave him a worried one but his partner at last signaled and turned the craft in the direction of their apartment.