Unprotected (17 page)

Amanda and Jake were unresponsive, and Amanda thought they probably had the same look on their faces. They let the good ol’ boy reminisce about the good old days, and they bit their tongues.

“Funny thing, though. I never played hockey, but one thing you know about hockey players is that they can be some rough fellas. Some of those guys … you know they’re playing hockey just because they get to slam other guys into the wall.” Skip chuckled. “You know how that is. Did you ever play?”

Jacob cleared his throat to stall for time. “Hockey? No, I never played hockey. I was in the minority in this state.”

“Oh,” Skip said knowingly. “Wrestler.”

“Basketball,” Jake said. Amanda thought back to his bedroom with the seventh grade basketball team photo on his dresser. Jake spent his varsity years getting chemotherapy.

Skip laughed out loud. “You are in the minority in these parts,” he said. “I guess you were a point guard, huh? Small and fast?”

Now that bastard was making jokes about Jacob’s height. Amanda wanted to reach across the table and slap his face. She could feel herself getting red, and she shifted in her chair. Skip took the hint.

“That’s neither here nor there,” Skip said, sitting back in his chair again. “My point about the hockey is that Chuck wasn’t one of those rough guys. He just wasn’t, Jake. None of the Thomas boys were like that.” Skip shook his head like a great travesty had just occurred. He was silent, waiting for Jake to respond.

Amanda looked over at Jake, who was silent also. Jake stared straight at Skip without a word, without a trace of emotion on his face. He was resisting Skip’s bait, not allowing himself to be drawn into a debate of the merits of his case, not allowing himself to be intimidated by the good old boy network. Skip was actually trying to intimidate Jake into dropping his case on the sole point of, “He’s not one of those people.” Jake’s was silent, which left Skip out flapping in the wind.

Skip cleared his throat, visibly becoming annoyed with how the conversation was going, or not going. “You must be pretty comfortable with your case, pretty solid on your facts, accusing a man like Chuck Thomas of child abuse.” Skip had heard their conversation earlier, and he was using it as ammunition. The wind had changed in their meeting, and it was now coming from the cold north.

“What did you need today, Skip?” Jacob asked, emphasizing his name, not afraid to use it.

Skip tapped Ashley the robot clerk on the shoulder, and she produced a thin manila file. “Here’s what we want, and a schedule of when we want it. We want your witness list first because we will be deposing all your witnesses. We want transcripts and copies of all audio and videotapes. We will also be submitting briefs requesting dismissal of the case on several different merits.

“This is a CHIPS petition …”

“Oh, I am well aware that you are unable to bring forward a criminal complaint. I am well aware that you are manipulating the law that protects children from real abusers in order to abuse my client instead. I am aware that your social workers,”
Here comes the attack on me
, Amanda thought, “completed a shoddy, unprofessional, incomplete investigation that is dragging a man revered by his community through the mud.” Skip leaned forward and narrowed his eyes, “I haven’t lived in this town for twenty years, but it’s still my home. You are in dangerous territory, Jake,” he spat the name like a swear word. “I advise you to think very carefully about whether or not you wish to proceed.”

Whoa. He issued his warning like a Mafioso just before they whacked the guy and dumped him in the river with cement blocks chained to his feet. Amanda watched Jake. His face was unreadable. The paralegal robots sat still, staring at their identical notebooks.

Finally Jake stood up, hands by his side, making no move to shake Huseman’s hand.

“We’ll be reviewing your discovery request, and we’ll be making our own,” Jake said, standing very straight. Skip stood up, and rose to his full height at least a foot taller than Jake.

He put his hands on his hips and shook his head in disgust.

“We’ll have one more conference before trial,” Skip said. “I’ll give you one last chance to make this right.” He walked out of the room before Jake could answer, leaving the para-robots to gather his briefcase and trail behind him.

Amanda and Jake watched him leave. Amanda started to speak, but Jake held up his hand, signaling her to be quiet until they were sure he was gone. Jake went to the door and closed it quietly.

He turned to Amanda and let out low whistle. “Something is going on here that has nothing to do with this case.”

“Why do you think it has nothing to do with the case?” Amanda said, pushing out the chair next to her and putting her feet up. Amanda hugged her knees to her chest, unconsciously trying to protect herself.

“That guy was scared,” Jake said, leaning back against the door and crossing his arms. “I don’t get that.”

“You think he was scared?” Amanda said.

“His reaction is something beyond business. He warned me not to pursue this CHIPS case. This
little
CHIPS case in a
small
town against a
small-time
restaurant owner. Unless that’s how he operates in all his cases, which I doubt, I think this lawyer has a stake in this somehow.”

“Jake, that doesn’t make any sense. He’s not named in the case. It was an incident between this guy and his son. I’ll bet Skip Huseman hasn’t even set foot in this town for ten years.”

“I know it doesn’t make any sense. But this guy’s reaction doesn’t make sense either. Usually when attorneys meet, it’s a pretty cordial thing, especially at first. Remember, in law school I clerked for a criminal defense attorney in the public defenders office. Even on the big cases, most of the lawyers know each other, so they kind of cut each other some slack. They know the other guy is just doing his job, so it’s pretty friendly. Later on in a case, it can get pretty ugly, but that’s usually when the stakes are high for either side.” Jake sat on the edge of the table next to Amanda. “In the two years of clerking for that attorney, I probably sat in on a hundred attorney conferences. I’ll bet ninety of those conferences were business as usual with a fair amount of time spent discussing golf or football. The other ones, even when they were a little heated, never were like this. Sometimes they would get gamey to try to get the other guy to tip his hand. Sometimes people got a little pissy. A few got nasty because somebody pulled a tactic or some kind of last minute trick to throw the other guys off. But never have I seen anything like this. Never.”

Amanda tried to imagine what Skip Huseman could have invested in a CHIPS case like this. “Maybe it just offends him, that a couple of pipsqueaks like us could go after somebody revered by his community,” Amanda said. “Maybe it offends his sense of how the world is supposed to work.”

“Maybe,” Jake said. But he didn’t look like he believed it.

* * *

On a day that began with a cup of urine and ended with a snaky attorney, Amanda was more than ready to go home. She trudged up the steps to her apartment and paused at the landing when she saw a set of boot prints in the snow just outside her door. Landlord? She had never had a male visitor, and she had not seen her landlord since she moved into the apartment.

Deciding to ignore the footprints, she inserted her key into the lock in the doorknob, but the knob rattled in her hand as the door pushed open. The lock was broken, and there was no way she could ignore that. Amanda found her landlord’s number in her phone and dialed it, but there was no answer. Her aloneness hit her again like a slap. She hesitated and finally called her only friend in town.

Jake was standing on the landing within ten minutes.

“It doesn’t exactly looked forced, but I’m no expert.” Bolstered by Jake’s presence, Amanda found the nerve to go inside. They walked through the apartment and didn’t find anything out of order. “I think we should call your landlord and have him get you a deadbolt. I can’t believe you don’t have one already. Until then, I guess it’s you and me.” Jake put his hands on his hips and grinned.

“You and me … doing what?”

“Amanda, there’s no way you’re staying here if you can’t lock your door. Pack up. Let’s go to my place.”

“Hey there, Mr. Bossypants. Do you really think you’re my only option?” Amanda was annoyed at the flush creeping up her neck.

“I’m sorry, Amanda. Do you have a secret boyfriend I’m not aware of?” His voice was dripping with saccharin, and he raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms.

“Maybe I do. Maybe I have a couple.” Inwardly she cringed, knowing how lame that sounded.

“Well, aren’t you just a player. I promise I won’t try to compete with any of your various boyfriends. Now come on. I’ve got a comfortable couch and a new carton of peanut butter fudge ice cream. Let’s go.”

Amanda grabbed an overnight bag and packed toiletries and work clothes for tomorrow. Avoiding the boxer shorts she usually slept in, Amanda found some flannel pajama pants. Jake drove them across town to his apartment.

Amanda got out of the car, relieved that she didn’t have to stay at her apartment alone, and still a little unsure if this was Jacob making a move on her. He used his key to open the first door, and punched in a security code to get in the second door. His apartment was on the main level, number 109. He opened the door and said, “Welcome to my humble abode.”

His apartment looked like a thousand apartments just like it, with plain drywall, light pine trim, and cheap looking light fixtures. It was nice enough to charge good rent, but utterly lacked character, so that no one would want to stay long. In his living room, he had a black leather sofa, but nothing else to sit on. There was a huge entertainment center with a widescreen TV, DVD player, and stereo surround sound system. No art on the walls. No dining room table. The kitchen was separated from the living room by a half bar, and there was nothing on the kitchen counters but a very nice coffee maker.

“Dang, you are boring,” Amanda said.

“Tell me about it,” Jake said, turning on a lamp by the couch.

“Obviously you don’t entertain much, judging by all the seating room,” Amanda said. Jake went into the kitchen and turned on the coffee maker.

“Right again,” he said. “I can offer you peanut butter sandwiches and the ice cream. Otherwise, I have no food, and nothing to drink other than beer and milk.”

“I’m not much of a coffee drinker,” Amanda said. “I feel like I should start, though, just to feel like a grown up.”

“Eh … it’s just another addiction. Probably better to avoid it if you can.” He made two sandwiches and grabbed the ice cream and two spoons and sat on the floor in front of the TV.

Amanda slid onto the floor next to him, took the other spoon and helped herself to some ice cream. Jake had grown quiet, and they allowed themselves to get engrossed in reruns.

At 9:00 p.m. Jake got up, found some extra blankets and a pillow and brought them out to the living room.

“You’re welcome to use my bed,” he said, unfolding a blanket. “I can sleep out here.”

“This is fine,” Amanda said awkwardly, hopping up to grab the blanket out of his hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay, then,” Jake said. “I’m gonna go to bed if that’s okay with you. I’m used to an early schedule I guess. Here’s the remote when you’re done watching TV.” He walked down the hall to his bedroom, stepped back for a moment and said, “Goodnight.”

Amanda was not expecting Jake to make any moves, but she was a little surprised that he went to bed so abruptly. She headed back into the bathroom, which was uncomfortably close to his bedroom. He had left his bedroom door open a crack, so she tried to look away as she passed his door. The bathroom was also very clean and non-descript. She knew from past history that he wore contacts too, so she searched for his saline and found several large prescription bottles. Seeing all the medicine reminded Amanda that she had almost forgotten about his cancer. She hadn’t asked about his health once since they had rekindled their friendship, or whatever it was that they had. As quietly as possible, she turned the bottles to read what the medicines were, but the first three were nothing that she recognized. The fourth was one that she did recognize: Zoloft. Amanda was pretty sure it was an antidepressant, but she planned to look it up tomorrow to be sure. She wondered if Jake was sick again, if his cancer had returned. He didn’t look sick, but he didn’t look sick the first time she met him either.

Amanda went back to the couch and tried again to fall asleep. She realized her heart was thudding in her chest. She pictured him lying in his bed, and wondered if he was asleep. She wondered if he was sick again. She wondered how he felt about her. It took a long time for her to fall asleep.

Chapter Thirteen

December passed quickly and before Amanda knew it, the last day of work before the Christmas holiday had arrived. Becca, Zoe, Leah, Amanda, and Max were the only social workers working that day, so Zoe brought a tray full of Christmas cookies into their staff meeting.

“Are you excited for the twins’ first Christmas?” Leah was asking Zoe as Amanda sat in her typical spot at the end of the table in their meeting room. Zoe, after nearly three years of fertility treatment, had given birth to twins the previous February and was just coming back to work from maternity leave when Amanda started her job.

“Yesterday I made a ton of cookies and tried to get them to help,” Zoe said, holding her hands over her coffee cup to warm them. “Surprisingly, nine month olds can’t do much with a mixer or a rolling pin, so Sam ended up dealing with them most of the day.” Zoe was dark-complected with dark hair and eyes, and always made Amanda feel at ease. She was warm and funny and reminded Amanda of Lucy.

“What did you get them for Christmas?” Max asked. “Did you go ridiculously overboard like we did?”

“Not too bad,” Zoe said. “They have everything except toys, and there’s not much they’ll play with yet. I’m dying to get Olivia a dollhouse, but she wouldn’t know what to do with it yet. Sam would love to get Dylan a basketball hoop, but that seems premature too. We ended up buying a plastic play gym for the basement playroom.”