Page 31 of To Have and to Hold

The light was still on and I knocked, the scent of pad thai wafting into my nostrils as soon as I opened the door.

“Rolfe, this is a surprise.” DA Abrams said between bites as I stepped in. Nicholas must’ve sprinted up the stairs, because he was close and panting at my heels. “I’ve got a few more hours to go and I’d love to get home to my wife before she sets fire to my cigar drawer for being so late. What happened to your eye there, boy?”

“Sir,” Nicholas started. “Whatever Spencer says, don’t—”

“I can’t give the Torro case the attention it needs and I feel like you know that. Nicholas reminded me that this is a very high-ranking distributor, and if I screw up I could put this office at risk.” I let that point dangle in the air, a subtle hint as to Abrams’s upcoming election and how unhooking such a big fish and setting him free would be detrimental to all involved. “Not to mention Delilah Marks herself.”

After a chew-filled pause, Abrams acknowledged my point with his chopsticks. “You’re going through a rough patch. I’ve read the news articles and have come to understand how serious it is.”

Nicholas stiffened beside me. “Spencer, you didn’t say—”

“I’m not going to rest until I find out what happened to her. Whatever the outcome.” I cleared the sand out of my throat. I wasn’t standing in front of Abrams to evoke sympathy. He didn’t tolerate weakness any more than I did. “My cases are suffering. My second chair is shouldering the burden, and I can’t stand for the losses that could ensue simply for the fact that I’m distracted. Torro is winnable, but not with me at the helm.”

Abrams set down his chopsticks and folded his arms. “I can’t force you to stay on, but I also cannot pretend that your exit will be taken with aplomb. You will be putting your career at risk, son.”

“I know that, sir,” I said.

A few minutes ticked by where I wasn’t sure if I was going to be fired on the spot or told that if I knew what was good for me, I would stay exactly where I was. But Emme’s face appeared every time I blinked, her pain and her fear felt as solid as my own, and there was no possibility of me escaping the bone-scraping reality that she was tied up against her will. It grew in my gut with poisonous speed.

“This trial may suffer, you know. Anderson isn’t known to accept recusals,” Abrams said.

I nodded. “I have to try. I promise you I am not in the correct mindset. Look at me.” I indicated my bruised left eye, my rumpled suit, and tangled hair. I didn’t have the wherewithal to smooth out and tie back the strands this morning. “Marks deserves better than this.” And Emme deserves more of me.

Abrams tapped a finger to his cheek, regarding me the way he did his witnesses back when he was in the trenches trying cases. His stare revealed very little of what was going on behind the scenes. “Take a few days absence, and if you still feel as strongly, then we will revisit the topic on Friday.”

“Sir, I…” but then I stopped. The reality of his acceptance set in, and why he was so willing to give me time off. Chances were, Emme would be discovered in these upcoming hours, maybe alive but more than likely not. Or, in a few days I would come to accept that she may never be found, because the probability of her still breathing would be substantially, irrevocably diminished. And my boss bet on the fact that I would want to take back control, to begin moving on, and to accept, as much as he did, that there would never be a happy ending in the savagery we call living.

“Take the deal,” Nicholas said in a low voice beside me.

Abrams was horribly correct in his assumptions. It might already be too late for Emme and that reality had me swallowing and remembering I hadn’t eaten in hours, but what did it matter. My words and thoughts to her would never gain sound because her ears would never hear it.

I nodded assent.

Abrams dabbed the corners of his mouth with his paper napkin. “I’ll keep following the news. And I’ll do whatever I can on my end to help, all right?”

My chin jerked up and down, and I swung on my heels for the door. Nicholas said something but I didn’t catch it.

Knox was competent, one of the best there was, and I had no doubt he was pursuing all leads and meticulously logging every piece of evidence, whether it be a gum wrapper or possible weapon. But there was this obligation, this deep-seated need to be a part of her search, to never let her go.

I paused at the entrance to my office, one hand on the frame. That was it. Knox may feel that his focus was better directed elsewhere than updating me, and he was right. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t sift through all the available information, same as Knox. He kept reams of notes and preliminary reports on every case. He often worked long hours at home, glued to his laptop, typing out theories and realities the same way I broke down a particularly complicated trial. Everything he thought, he wrote down, for to do otherwise would risk losing a key aspect that could crack a mystery wide open—whether it be hair dye or pet fur or a penchant for cherry lollipops. Everything led to the answer. People left clues behind them like footsteps. And I could read Emme’s prints in a way no one else could. I had years with her, I loved her—

The fiancé.

Who also loved her. A man who harbored all the current knowledge of Emme, knew if she still loved the color periwinkle both for the name and the hue, and how she never met a ketchup bottle she didn’t like. He’d know whether she remained a woman who could deeply impress upon a person simply by glancing at them and grinning, and how she wouldn’t notice if someone particularly taken with her would follow behind.

Hecould also be the reason she was kidnapped. Did this fiancé have money? Was this all connected to him? Had Knox gone through every piece of surveillance on the sidewalk that night? Every bodega, convenience store, parking garage, lobby, all of it? I was not going to give up on her. Forty-eight hours was not enough to surrender her life. Two years wouldn’t be enough. Ten. I had to know, to discover the truth, I had to—

—had to—

Start my own investigation.

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