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Post by earthylady on Feb 19, 2009 9:53:50 GMT -5
Drugs and murder always makes for a great story. It finally looks as if our CSI's are going to get somewhere with the evidence. Great chapter JL.
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Post by jaglady on Feb 19, 2009 19:30:13 GMT -5
Thanks, Earthylady. I'm getting ready to wrap this one up soon. :pillowfight: -------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 20—Home For the Holidays
“Careful” Ryan warned as he walked slowly alongside Emmie, his arm behind her back. “Just take your time.”
Emmie was nearly out of breath as she propelled herself along on her new aluminum crutches. She wore an old black United States Navy sweatshirt and long, loose workout pants. She wore a sock over her bandaged leg to keep it as clean as possible. What bothered her most was, despite her rigorous workouts, she seemed to get worn down quickly while doing simple things.
Finally she stopped and held both crutches in one hand as she leaned tiredly against the wooden railing, catching her breath, holding up her bandaged leg. “I hate these things” she moaned helplessly. “They’re killing my arms.”
“Just like anything else, Emmie" Ryan insisted. "You have to get used to them. You can’t push yourself so hard.”
“We’re gonna miss it” she protested.
He leveled his eyes at her. “So what? Emmie, you just got out of the hospital. You’ve already had one accident in the last week. You don’t need another.”
While Ryan stood next to her patiently, she simply leaned back against the wooden railing and breathed deeply, taking in that cool, fragrant ocean breeze while she rested her sore arms on her crutches. She closed her eyes and listened to the hissing of the breeze blowing through the sawgrass under the boardwalk. The cold rains that had plagued South Florida for a week seemed to be a distant memory now as the reflection of the half moon shimmered off the bay. Much as she hated to admit it, she was glad to be on the pain killers right now. Images of dirty brown water swallowing up the Hummer occasionally flashed through her mind. She remembered the vulnerability she felt as the alligator-infested waters rose up around her safe haven. That rain angrily pounding the windows. That drip, drip, drip of the water leaking in through the broken driver’s side window. That helplessness when her only food source was a survival kit that she had discovered by accident. The brown, muddy river just inches below her feet as she held on for dear life and watched the Hummer sink to a watery death.
She looked helplessly toward the crowd that had gathered at the pier. The pain killers were a good thing right now.
Ryan watched her. “You gonna be all right?”
Emmie looked at him and nodded. “Yeah. You know, it’s strange. When I was in Saudi Arabia, the barracks down the block from us took a Scud missile. We lost some reservists. I still remember it like it was yesterday. I don’t remember feeling like this, though.”
“Like what?”
She shook her head. “I was only nineteen, but for the first time in my life, it occurred to me that I wasn’t immortal. But now, well, out there, stranded in that Hummer with a broken leg, trying to keep Horatio alive. I can’t describe it. I never felt so helpless. Maybe when I was in the Gulf, I expected it to be dangerous. But not riding home from a conference.” Emmie closed her eyes painfully. She wanted to cry, but the pain killers forbade it. "Or maybe when I was in the Gulf, I didn't feel like I was fighting the enemy all by myself."
Ryan had his hands in his pockets as he watched her. “I think I understand. Emmie you look wiped out. You want me to take you home?”
She looked at him helplessly. “I’m really tired. I’m sorry, Ryan. I know you went through a lot of trouble.”
Ryan took her elbow and guided her gently in the other direction. “No trouble at all. Take your time.”
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Emmie sat at her computer table with her broken leg propped up on the metal chair. Ryan sat behind her as she brought her computer to life. “Thanks for doing all this, Ryan.”
He smiled. “Thanks for putting me up in your guest room.”
She shrugged. “Well, things have been a little strange, to say the least. This leg is gonna take some getting used to.”
He stood up suddenly. “That reminds me. You take your pills yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Well here. Let’s see.” He stepped over to her coffee table and sorted through the brown bottles. “Okay. This is the one you’re supposed to take an hour before bedtime.” He sniffed. “Darvicet, huh? This’ll put a smile on your face.”
“Hey, it’s starting!”
Ryan handed her some pills and a cup of water as he sat down behind her and watched the black monitor. Boats decorated in white, red, blue, and green Christmas lights sailed past the webcam one by one. Some of them played Christmas carols. Emmie reached forward and turned up her speakers so that she and Ryan could hear the mix of Christmas carols, crowds cheering, and the gentle waves breaking. Emmie hugged her crutches and smiled, transfixed on the monitor. A cabin cruiser sported a Christmas star and red and green Christmas lights while blaring “Hark the Herald Angels Sing!”
“That’s beautiful.”
Ryan smiled. “Yeah.”
Neither one of them said a word as sailboats, cabin cruisers, and luxury yachts sailed past the webcam one by one, blaring Christmas carols and showing off their decorations.
Finally the last boat glided silently past the webcam. She clicked off her monitor. “That was nice, wasn’t it?”
Ryan never took his eyes off the darkened screen. “Yeah.”
“Sorry I couldn’t stay out there” she said ruefully, never taking her eyes off the screen.
“Hey, that’s okay. Nobody thought you’d get out of the hospital this fast, but the doctor said you were well enough to make the trip back, and I figured you wanted to be in your own bed on Christmas Eve.”
“Yeah.” She yawned and looked around her living room sleepily now. “It’s really good to be back. I wish I knew how to thank you.”
“By letting yourself heal. Well I think I’d better put you to bed. You’ve had a busy day.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” She balanced herself as she stood up on her crutches. “I’m just gonna change really fast.” Slowly she propelled herself past Ryan and closed her bedroom door. She was determined to do as much as possible without any help, especially since Ryan was just being a friend.
Ryan watched the closed bedroom door until she came out wearing a long tee shirt and loose shorts, propelling herself on her crutches. He stood up.
“Hold on. I’ll come tuck you in” he said with a grin. She giggled as she turned and hobbled back to her full-size bed. From the other side he pulled back her burgundy bedspread. “Can you get in by yourself?”
“Uh huh.” Slowly and painfully she pushed herself backward into her bed and let him flip the bedspread back over her. “Who knows? Maybe next year we can see that thing live?”
The young CSI nodded with a smile as he tucked the bedspread over her shoulder. “I think that’d be great.”
She smiled back at him as she carefully lay on her side. “Night Ryan.”
He stepped out and turned off her light. “I’ll come get you in the morning.”
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Calleigh stepped in and scanned the bar. She didn’t see him this time. “Hey, Dana. Where is he?”
The brown-haired lady behind the bar pointed discreetly with her thumb while giving Calleigh a knowing smile.
“Thanks.”
Kenwall DuQuesne sat by himself at the end of the bar and merely stared at the empty glass in front of him. He wasn’t singing along with the Christmas carol that wafted through the bar. He wasn’t bragging to the other customers about his favorite little girl. Even thought it was Christmas Eve, he felt like he had nothing to celebrate. There was no happiness. He’d really blown it this time, and he knew it.
Calleigh stood quietly behind her father, like she had so many times before. “Hey, Dad.”
He never looked at her. Just kept his eyes on the empty bar glass in front of him. “Hey, Lambchop.”
“This how you’re gonna spend Christmas Eve?”
“Yep. I reckon this is as much fun as anything” he muttered to the bar.
Calleigh lowered her eyes. “It true what they said?”
“Yep.”
Calleigh did her best to keep an upbeat mood. “We’ll talk about it later, Dad. Let me take you home.”
Slowly Duke turned on the bar stool toward his pretty little girl. “Don’t know how I’m gonna tell your mama, Lambchop.”
“We’ll figure it out, Dad. We always do, don’t we?”
He held his straw fedora with one hand and hooked his white jacketed arm under his daughter’s elbow. “Yeah, I suppose. Too bad. I really loved that place.”
Silently Calleigh escorted her wobbly father out across the lighted city street. In his condition he did his best to heel-toe and keep up with her as she walked to the Hummer parked across the street.
“So we gonna see you tomorrow morning?” he asked ruefully.
“Sure, Dad. But right now I’ve got to finish some things up at work.”
Duke DuQuesne looked at his daughter with his tired blue eyes. “Maybe it’s just as well they let me go. Maybe I’ll get to see you and your mama more. Least for a while.”
The CSI had been down this road many times. Behind that drunkenness was a sadness and helplessness that she had come to recognize. “You’ll see me in the morning, Dad” she promised as he stepped up into the passenger seat. “Right now let’s just get you home.”
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Post by earthylady on Feb 19, 2009 20:46:27 GMT -5
Great Emmie and Ryan chapter. Poor Duke is so sad. I would love to see him on the show.
Great read as always JL.
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Post by jaglady on Feb 21, 2009 8:21:11 GMT -5
Thanks, Earthylady. Me too. There are a LOT of characters I'd love to see back. I still remember the epi in which Duke came to the aid of a little girl whose mother was pimping her to potential boyfriends. So many think of him as a loser and an alcoholic, but he has used his law degree to fight for those who can't fight for themselves. I hope to have more up this evening. (Please, don't use the foot-tapping smiley! *cringes*)
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ladytaz29
Rookie Officer
Caution..Must wear flame retardent materials..
Posts: 377
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Post by ladytaz29 on Feb 21, 2009 9:10:14 GMT -5
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Post by jaglady on Feb 21, 2009 22:37:58 GMT -5
To get a feel for the last part of this chapter, just look at LadyTaz's siggy banner. ;D --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 21—The Accused
The young, thin, brown-haired man looked unapologetic as he sat at the interrogation table. Ryan glanced at the case file and then studied him. Ryan then tipped his head up at him inquisitively.
“Jerry Lynch. You’re a student pharmacist, right?”
The defensiveness now became a simple shrug. “Yeah. Why?”
“According to your DEA license, you’re only supposed to be dispensing drugs, not killing people with them, and not passing them out to people who do your dirty work for you. How’s the Hippocratic Oath go again?” Mockingly he glanced at the ceiling as though thinking hard. “Oh yeah. ‘First, do no harm’?”
Jerry dipped his head. “I did what I had to do. Don’t tell me you never broke the law as a cop.”
Ryan sniffed. This guy couldn’t possibly have known about his gambling incident. But he never wavered. “I never used my own perverted sense of justice to commit murder, Jerry. Is that why you had to lace Eric Miller’s Allegra with Benadryl? Something you knew he was allergic to? And that’s why you gave ten Darvocet pills to Vic Odom to fix Angela Miller’s car?”
The bespectacled pharmacy student looked at him silently.
Ryan shrugged as he plopped down the brown case file. “Jerry, right now you’re looking t Murder One, conspiracy, and two counts of distributing. Even if you didn’t do any prison time, you’re never gonna pay back your student loans, because for the rest of your life, you’re gonna be flipping burgers in a truck stop somewhere. So you might as well just tell me why.”
He looked more distantly now. “It’s for Melissa.”
“Melissa Matherson?”
“She was helping me. I was helping her” he insisted, folding his arms and glaring at Ryan. “I was the only friend she had after that sick bastard dumped her. He got her pregnant and then just left her there! She came to me! She’s a nice lady! Why would anybody do that to her?”
“What sick bastard are you talking about?” Ryan demanded.
“Robert Creech. The guy who killed her brother in Colorado. She was seeing the guy, and she had no idea who he was! Can you believe that? I had to let her know, man. And then she didn’t believe me!”
Ryan shook his head. “That meteorologist didn’t kill her brother, Jerry.”
“Bull! I did the research.”
“I know the Robert Creech you’re talking about. This is a different one.” He took out two more pieces of paper and laid them on top of the bank records. “This Robert Creech was a disc jockey in Gunnison, Colorado. And this is the Robert Creech who worked at Creech Pharmaceuticals. Two different guys. They had the same name and they both lived in Colorado. The guy you helped to murder changed his name to Eric Miller. The guy who worked for Creech Pharmaceuticals died of lung cancer five years ago.”
Jerry Lynch’s eyes widened. “No way. Melissa told me—“ he started to protest.
“Uh, Jerry, we also checked your back-and-forth emails. Melissa didn’t tell you anything. You told her you found some dirt on Eric Miller. And you told her you were gonna make sure he paid for what he did. That’s when she broke all contact with you. Eric Miller was a bit of a dirtball, but he didn’t kill anybody.”
His eyes darted between Ryan and the wall now.
Ryan gave him a hard look. “You killed an innocent man, Jerry.”
Reality was beginning to hit the young pharmacy tech. He simply stared at the table in shock.
“By the way, maybe you loved Melissa, but she didn’t love you. She used you. She knew how to play you, man. But it looks like you’ll be okay where you’re going. You seem to be pretty good with the laws of the jungle.” He glanced at the uniformed officer who stood at the door. “Take him.”
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Horatio paced opposite the brown-haired, scruffy-bearded man who hunched over the table and grasped the edge, obviously in some pain. He sweated and trembled, trying to maintain himself.
“Mr. Odom. You okay? Are you in some pain?”
“I’m fine” he answered in a strained voice. “It’s just my back.”
“Did you already run out of the pain killers Jerry Lynch gave you?”
“Who?”
The Lieutenant sat down and pushed a photo in front of the man. “The pharmacy tech who gave you ten Darvocet pills just before you worked on Angela Miller’s car, Mr. Odom! You disabled the brakes and the air bags. That’s Murder One and Conspiracy, not to mention the drug charges!”
“Look, he only gave me that stuff once!” he said between breaths.
Horatio remained unfazed. “We checked every pharmacy where Jerry Lynch has worked. They all show doctored DEA inventory records! We have you on surveillance! Try again!”
Pain and withdrawal were getting the better of Vic Odom now. He trembled as he gripped the edge of the table more tightly. “Okay, okay. I hurt my back, and the doctor put me on narcotics. I went back begging for more, but he cut me off. I had to get the stuff somewhere.”
“Did Jerry Lynch tell you to sabotage Angela Miller’s car?”
The man took a deep breath. Anything to stop this agony. “First he said he’d give me a thousand bucks, but he said he didn’t have the money. So he gave me those pills. Something about his girlfriend’s trust fund got cut off. He told me this lady was standing in the way of his girlfriend’s trust fund, and when she died, his girlfriend would get the money again.” He took a breath to try to dispel the pain. “He just told me to do something with the car so it’d look like an accident. I said ‘yeah, fine.’ He told me when the lady died, there’d be another hundred thousand for me.” Perspiration dripped down his forehead. “I don’t know why I believed him. I mean, who’d have that kind of money and drive a crappy old car like that? But I needed the pills, so I said I’d do it.”
“What lady, Mr. Odom?” Horatio demanded.
Vic Odom took deep breaths again in an effort to dispel the pain. “I think her name was Angela Miller. Look man, can I get something? This pain’s driving me crazy!”
Horatio leveled eyes with him. “Don’t worry, Mr. Odom. We’re gonna help you with your addiction once and for all. There’s a good rehab program in the County lockup. You’re gonna be there for a long time, so I suggest you take advantage of it.” He snapped the folder shut as the uniformed officer handcuffed the sweaty, trembling man.
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As Horatio strode down the blue hallway, a tall, sturdy, well-dressed man with salt and pepper hair stood up and stood directly in front of him. The man wore a white dress shirt, Dockers, and gold-rimmed glasses. With determined eyes, the man faced Horatio.
“Are you Horatio Caine?” he nearly demanded.
He faced the stranger guardedly. “I am. Can I help you?”
Mindful of his professional manners, the man shook hands with Horatio. “My name is Frank Stockburne. I’m Emmie Stockburne’s father. I understand you’re her supervisor.” He then thrust a piece of paper at Horatio. “What’s going on here?”
Horatio glanced at the man before reading the piece of paper. “I see. So Emmie told you about the IAB investigation?”
Frank Stockburne leaned toward Horatio, determined to make his point. “I don’t know anything about an IAB investigation. I understand she saved somebody’s life out there, and now they want to punish her for it? My daughter is not a criminal, Officer Caine! What the hell kind of a department is this?”
He dipped his head and put one hand up to the angry father. “Actually, Mr. Stockburne, it was my life your daughter saved. We lost a police vehicle, a firearm, and some computer equipment in the accident. The investigation is standard procedure.”
Emmie’s father wasn’t convinced. “I don’t like it! My daughter’s been through hell and back. You should be thanking her!”
Horatio’s weathered blue eyes met the man’s angry brown eyes. “Actually, Mr. Stockburne, I am in the process of putting her in for a special citation. Your daughter’s a hero.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it! My daughter’s laid up at the house with pins in her leg. What happened out there was not her fault!” He snarled as he pointed to the ceiling. “If anything happens to her, I swear I’m gonna bring down the roof of this whole damned department!”
Horatio raised his eyebrows and put his hands on his hips, locking eyes with the man. He could understand the outrage of an angry, protective father. “Mr. Stockburne, that’s not gonna happen. Do you understand me? That’s not gonna happen.”
During his years as a CEO, Frank Stockburne had learned how to read people. There was something about Lieutenant Caine. He breathed deeply and softened his expression. The anger slowly faded away, and a quiet desperation showed in his eyes. He wanted to believe him.
“Officer Caine, I’m not gonna stand here and watch my daughter go through that a second time” he insisted.
Horatio nodded at the father with a determination. “And you’re not going to, Mr. Stockburne. Your daughter looked out for me. Now I’m going to return the favor.”
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Post by earthylady on Feb 22, 2009 17:52:10 GMT -5
Jerry made a huge mistake! Emmie's father isn't one to be messed with. Great chapter, can't wait to read the next.
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ladytaz29
Rookie Officer
Caution..Must wear flame retardent materials..
Posts: 377
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Post by ladytaz29 on Feb 22, 2009 18:29:09 GMT -5
Yes...He does strike the pose doesn't he.
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Post by jaglady on Feb 22, 2009 21:19:30 GMT -5
Yeah, especially in "Stand Your Ground", when he dons his sunnies indoors. Thanks, everybody. And especially LadyTaz, for the idea.
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Post by jaglady on Feb 24, 2009 19:40:23 GMT -5
Sorry for the delay (cowers from LadyTaz). Couldn't get to my chapters because of a website issue. -------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 22—The Right Stuff
Kenwall DuQuesne walked into the glaring white room and placed his paperwork on the table. Putting aside the events of Christmas Eve, he sat down and faced Rick Stetler as well as the gray-haired, steely-eyed arbiter. He would be the seasoned trial lawyer he always was. He knew what was riding on this.
“For the record, Mr. DuQuesne, who are you representing?” Rick Stetler wanted to know as he placed his black microcassette recorder in front of him.
Duke placed his own microcassette recorder on the table as he tipped his head up. “Sergeant Stetler, I’m representing the interests of Miss Emmalyn Stockburne.”
Rick eyed him warily as he glanced down at the papers in front of him. “Mr. DuQuesne, I personally worked with Charlotte County Forensics and conducted the investigation. Although much of the physical evidence is missing from the crash scene in Charlotte County due to the floods, my findings lead me to believe that Miss Stockburne may have been driving at a high rate of speed for the conditions when she went off the road, thus causing three hundred and fifty-thousand dollars in damage to Dade County property and the loss of Lieutenant Caine’s firearm.”
The white-suited lawyer flipped through his pages. “And Sergeant Stetler, I intend to prove that not only did Miss Stockburne take every reasonable precaution to avoid that accident, but that she acted in the interests of the County as well as Lieutenant Caine. I also intend to prove that evidence is insufficient and that you actually railroaded Miss Stockburne.”
The IAB agent knew he couldn’t flinch.
The arbiter simply watched the wary IAB agent and the attorney.
“Sergeant Stetler, why don’t you begin with how you arrived at the conclusion that Miss Stockburne may have been responsible for the crash, as you so eloquently stated?”
Rick breathed deeply. “Well, in a sworn statement at the Charlotte County Hospital, Emmalyn Stockburne stated that she had swerved sharply to avoid what she thought were three dead alligators on a remote two-late road.” He handed the arbiter a photo. “Charlotte County CSI took a photo of the crash scene. Here you will see the tire marks of Lieutenant Caine’s Hummer, but no dead alligators.”
The gray-haired, bespectacled arbiter studied the black and white photo carefully. He then glanced up. “Mr. DuQuesne? You have a rebuttal?”
Duke smiled slightly. “Well, Sir, according to the National Weather Service, the floodwaters rose to about seven feet on the morning of December 21st. The waters rose with enough strength to carry the police vehicle nearly fifty feet, so it stands to reason those same floodwaters could wash away three dead alligators as well as a nine millimeter service pistol. The Charlotte County CSI’s did a great job, and they claimed to have found two dead alligators that simply died not far from the crash scene. How do we know those weren’t the alligators that caused Miss Stockburne to swerve off the road? I want to direct your attention to those tire marks. Charlotte County CSI’s confirmed that the Hummer was traveling at fifty miles an hour, which is within the legal speed limit for that road. You’ll then notice that the tire marks swerve sharply to the left, indicating a panic stop.”
“Miss Stockburne was driving fast for the conditions” Rick insisted, his hands folded on the table.
“Sergeant, just how fast should she have been driving? Can you recommend a posted speed limit for the heavy rain Charlotte County had that day?” He then glanced at the dumbfounded faces. “Nobody can tell Miss Stockburne how fast she should have been driving. Under the conditions, she was driving in a ‘reasonable and prudent manner’ to avoid an accident. And if you’ll take a look, Sir, you’ll notice that the road comes into a blind curve. There’s also vegetation that blocks line-of-sight distance.”
“She should have slowed down in that curve” Rick argued. “Those tire marks show that she swerved suddenly as though she didn’t anticipate anything.”
Kenwall DuQuesne was unfazed as his weathered blue eyes met Rick’s brown eyes. “Sergeant, there’s no evidence as to whether she slowed down, sped up, or kept the same pace, is there?”
“Well, nobody can really be sure...” he started to say, watching his eyes.
The Louisiana attorney never flinched. The arbiter now had eyes on the IAB agent.
“Is there, Sergeant Stetler?” he asked again.
“No.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
Rick immediately gathered himself. “However, Miss Stockburne admitted to me when I questioned her that she really didn’t remember.”
Duke smiled slightly. “Sergeant, would you turn to Page Ten in the investigative report, please?”
Rick made a slapping sound as he frustratingly flipped through pages. The arbiter followed along on his copy.
Duke tipped his head up as he looked at the stapled report. “Is that your signature with date and time, Sergeant Stetler?”
The IAB agent looked at him. “Yes.”
The weathered lawyer nodded knowingly. December 22nd, three-thirty in the afternoon. According to Miss Stockburne’s hospital records, she had been given heavy doses Tylox, Motrin, and a Heparin IV. In other words, when you questioned my client, she couldn’t possibly have been of sound mind. Isn’t that one of the provisions for investigative questioning, Sergeant Stetler?”
Rick huffed now. “Miss Stockburne was alert enough to help Tyler Jensen with an important case. The first time I saw her, she was working on a laptop computer from her hospital bed.”
“I understand that. But computer work is something she’s done for years and can easily perform subconsciously. There’s a difference between something you’ve done for years and something you’ve done once, wouldn’t you agree?”
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Duke poked his head out the door. “Emmie, would you come in here, young lady?”
Carefully, Emmie hoisted herself up on her crutches and placed them under her arms. The pain killers still numbed her.
“Want me to go in with you, Sweetheart?” her father asked.
The computer tech dipped her head. “I’ll be okay, Dad. Whatever happens happens.”
Her father nodded. “You’ll be okay.”
Emmie stood on her crutches and faced the gray-haired arbiter as Rick looked on, obviously weary from the argument.
“Miss Stockburne, it is the findings of this arbitration hearing that the cause of the crash on December 20th is inconclusive. From what little evidence Internal Affairs was able to gather, and in light of your heroic acts during the storm in which you saved the life of Lieutenant Horatio Caine, this arbitration board finds you innocent of any negligence. There will be no marks on your employment record, and you will not be charged in any way for the damages caused. This arbitration is legally binding. With that, the matter is closed.”
Despite the numbing of her pain killers, Emmie propelled herself out into the hallway with an unmistakable smile. Frank Stockburne and Duke DuQuesne stood up to meet her. She immediately hugged her father. “He did it!” she nearly sobbed into his shoulder.
When Frank Stockburne released his daughter, he immediately shook the Louisiana lawyer’s hand. “Mr. DuQuesne, I wish I could thank you enough. The job’s yours. Monday morning work for you?”
Duke gripped the CEO’s hand with a proud, tired smile. “Well, Sir, I’d be more than glad to. I tell you, it’s nice to know I’ve still got it.”
“You’ve still got it. We’re gonna need somebody like you.”
Calleigh stepped into the hallway. “Hey, Dad. Sounds like a celebration.” She had an expectant smile. “Well?”
“Why Lambchop! You’re looking at the new head of legal affairs for the Stockburne Holdings office in New Orleans” he said with a proud smile.
The ballistics expert hugged his arm. “I knew you could do it, Dad.”
Frank smiled as he shook hands with Calleigh. “You must be Calleigh DuQuesne. I’m Frank Stockburne. I’m Emmie’s dad.”
Calleigh smiled at him now. “Nice to meet you. And thanks for everything.”
He nodded proudly. “The company’s been looking to open a New Orleans office to help rebuild after Katrina, and we’ve need legal counsel. I told your dad that if he could clear my daughter of this investigation, the job was his.”
Calleigh smiled proudly to her father. “See, Dad? I knew you could still do it.”
“Well, I’m afraid I’m not gonna be seeing you much, Calleigh. Mr. Stockburne here says I’m gonna hit the ground running, and I’ll be going back and forth to New Orleans once in a while. But I’ll be sure to bring you back something every time.”
“That’s okay, Dad” his daughter whispered as she held his arm. “Just take it easy on the drinking, okay?”
Frank Stockburne could only hug his daughter as she balanced on her crutches. “I’m just glad you’re okay, Sweetheart” he said as she held him tightly.
Emmie rested her head on her father’s strong shoulder for what seemed a long time. Nobody paid attention as the room behind them had emptied. Rick had nothing to say to anyone. He simply glanced at the celebratory hugs and carried his folders down the blue hallway.
Calleigh hugged her father’s arm. Emmie held her father tightly. Finally, Frank Stockburne and Kenwall DuQuesne faced one another and looked into each other’s eyes. Both of them just laughed as their proud daughters watched.
“See you bright and early Monday, Duke?” Frank Stockburne asked, shaking his hand.
“You got it, Sir” he assured.
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