From the Heart

Jessica’s eyes when she’d asked for Slade. “Of course, now that it’s over,” he ventured, “I’m not entirely sure she won’t fall apart—delayed reaction.”
    Slade smothered the instant urge to protect and prevent. “She’ll get through the aftermath all right. There’re enough people in that house to take care of her.”
    Dodson laughed. “That’s usually the other way around. Half the time Jessica serves her staff. Of course, Betsy will cluck around her for a time until Jessica’s ready to scream. And of course, Jessica won’t. Betsy’s been with her for twenty years. Then there’s the cook, she’s been there nearly as long. Makes great biscuits.” He paused reminiscently. “I guess it was about three years ago that Jessica picked up all her medical bills when she had a stroke. I suppose you saw old Joe, the gardener.”
    Slade grunted, crushing out his cigarette. “He must be ninety years old.”
    “Ninety-two if memory serves me. She doesn’t have the heart to let him go, so she hires a young boy during the summer to do the heavy work. The little maid, Carol, is the daughter of her father’s chauffeur. Jessica took her on when the girl’s father died. That’s Jessica.” He sighed gustily. “Loyal. Her loyalty’s one of her most endearing traits and one of her most frustrating.” Now, Dodson concluded, was the time to drop the bomb. “She’s hired a lawyer for Michael.”
    This time the reaction was fast and furious. “She did what ?”
    While he lifted his hands, palms up, in a gesture of helplessness, Dodson struggled with a smile. “She tells me she feels it’s her responsibility.”
    “Just how does she come by that?” Slade demanded. His control deserted him so that he sprang up and paced the office.
    “If he hadn’t been working for her, he wouldn’t have gotten tangled up in this mess . . . .” Dodson shrugged. “You know how her mind works as well as I do.”
    “Yeah. When it works at all. Adams is the one who got her involved. He’s responsible for everything that happened to her. She was nearly killed twice because he didn’t have the spine to protect her.”
    “Yes,” Dodson agreed quietly. “He’s responsible.” The emphasis on the pronoun was slight, but full of meaning. Slade turned back at that. Dodson met his eyes with a look that was too understanding and too knowledgeable. He thought Slade looked like his father for a moment—impulsive, emotional, hot-headed. But Tom, Dodson mused, would never have been able to struggle with such turbulent feelings and win. Slade turned away from him again.
    “If she wants to hire a lawyer for him,” he murmured, “that’s her business. It’s got nothing to do with me.”
    “No?”
    “Look, Commissioner.” On a spurt of fury, Slade whirled around. “I took the assignment, I finished the assignment. I’ve written my report and been debriefed. I’ve also turned in my resignation. I’m finished.”
    Let’s see how long you can convince yourself of that, Dodson mused. Smiling, he extended his hand. “Yes, as I said, we’re sorry to lose you.”
     
    The air smelled of snow when Slade climbed out of his car. He glanced up at the sky—no moon, no stars. There was a keen night wind that made low howling noises through the naked trees. He shifted his gaze to the house. Lights glowed here and there; in the parlor, in Jessica’s bedroom. Even as he watched, the upstairs light winked out.
    Maybe she’s gone to bed, he thought, hunching his shoulders against the cold. I should go—I shouldn’t even behere. Even as he told himself so, he walked up the steps to the front door. He told himself he should turn around, get back in the car, and drive away. He cursed whatever demon had prompted him to make the trip in the first place. He lifted his hand to knock.
    Before Slade’s fist connected with the wood, the door flew open. He heard Jessica’s breezy laugh, felt the quick brush of fur against his legs, then caught her as she raced out after Ulysses and collided with his chest.
    Everything, everything he had tried to forget, came back to him in that one instant—the feel of her, the scent, the taste of her skin under his lips. Then Jessica tilted back her head and looked him fully in the face.
    Her eyes were bright and alive, her skin flushed with laughter. As he stood tense, her lips curved for him in a smile that made his legs weak.
    “Hello, Slade. I’m sorry, we almost knocked you