at Fort Jackson, South Carolina. He was nice enough to help us on a previous case, and at the time he was only a lieutenant colonel. Now that’s he’s moved up a notch, maybe we can get him to solve the case for us.
Kevin will call him to learn all he can about Archie Durelle, the shooter who was killed in the helicopter crash and who came back to life. I’m particularly interested in whatever contact he and Antwan Cooper had in the service, and who else was on the copter with Durelle when it went down. If Durelle didn’t die, maybe they didn’t, either.
Laurie and I head home to enjoy our last night together before she goes back to Wisconsin. Wild and crazy pair that we are, we’re going to spend it by ordering in a pizza and watching a movie on DVD. We each have our role to play. I order the pizza and she chooses the movie.
She chooses Inherit the Wind, which is one of the few lawyer movies that I can tolerate. I especially like when Spencer Tracy, playing Clarence Darrow, gets to crucify the opposing lawyer, William Jennings Bryan, played by Fredric March. I’ve wanted to cross-examine a few prosecutors in my day. The fact that the prosecutor then literally collapses and dies when making a speech in the courtroom is as good an ending as you’re going to find anywhere.
We eat the pizza while watching the movie, carefully saving the crusts for Tara and Reggie. They have completely different eating styles. Tara virtually inhales the crusts in a matter of moments, while Reggie savors them, chewing slowly and carefully, then licking his lips clean after each one. The net effect is to have Tara finished and watching him, probably hoping in vain that he won’t finish. It must drive her nuts.
Laurie and I share a bottle of Rombauer chardonnay, though the dogs don’t get to sample it. Our drinking styles mirror the way the dogs eat. Laurie slips her wine slowly, while I chug it down like an ice-cold Pepsi on a hot day.
I know nothing about wine, but this tastes pretty good. Of course, in this setting I could serenely sip gasoline. “Mr. Carpenter, might I recommend an ’88 Chevron? Or perhaps a ’91 Texaco? Both are fruity and quite flammable.”
Laurie doesn’t say much all night, and it isn’t until we’ve made love that she decides it’s time to talk. It’s unfortunate, because I have already come to the conclusion that it’s time to sleep.
“Andy, I’m going to tell you something because I think we should be open and honest.”
Uh-oh, I think, bracing for what is going to come next.
“I’m taking a risk by saying this.”
I don’t say anything, because I find it hard to talk and cringe at the same time.
“Andy, I think that if you told me the only way to keep us together would be for me to move back here, I would move. That’s how important you are to me.”
This conversation just took a turn for the better. “I feel the same way about you,” I say, and then worry that I may have just offered to move to Wisconsin.
If I made the offer, thankfully she doesn’t pick up on it. “I love where I live, Andy, and I love my job, but I would give it all up if that were necessary to keep you.”
My mind is racing for a way to appear understanding and generous and yet actually get her to move back here. “I would never want you to give that up,” I say. My mind obviously didn’t pull off the trick.
“And you’ll tell me if that changes? Because right now I love you more than ever.”
“I’ll tell you,” I say, knowing I won’t, because then she’d love me less than ever.
In the morning we have a quick breakfast, and I drive Laurie to the airport. We don’t talk about when we will see each other again, because we both know it might be quite a while. She’s used up her vacation, and if we get the new trial for Richard, I’m going to be intensely occupied with it.
I’ll still be jealous and worried about what she might be doing in Wisconsin, and who she might be doing it with. That usually begins about twenty-four hours after she gets on the plane to go home. She has never given me any reason to be concerned; my jealousy is more about my insecurity than her lack of