Engines and werewolves

Chapter 26

hat was an afterthought. Lukeman had met the President, had shaken hands with him. He hoped his arm got better. He pulled Jennifer aside and made his regrets. She was not pleased.

“This is totally unacceptable, Lukeman. Do you realize how special a night this is for Daddy?”

“Hey, I’m just a working stiff. You know? Billable hours?”

“That’s ridiculous! And you know it. No one at that firm can make those demands of you, let alone some nothing associate.”

“Jenn, it’s not that big a deal. I had a great time. Your dad got his little award. Now it’s time to go back to work. Alvis is okay. He’s kicking my butt a little bit, but he works just as hard, if not harder than I do. Everybody has to take their lumps.”

“This isn’t fair, Lukeman. This is not convenient for me.”

“Jenn, it’s my job. I said don’t worry about it, so don’t worry about it. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m gonna grab a cab back.”

“Daddy will be very disappointed.”

“Daddy won’t even miss me. Hey, hoist one for me. And remember what you said about later? I’ll take a rain check on that, maybe we can make it my place for a change?”

She allowed herself to be kissed. But when Lukeman was gone she stormed over to her father.

.. FIVE

Victoria WHITNEY PULLED INTO THE PARKING LOT OF HER building. The grocery bag clunked against one leg, her overflowing briefcase against the other as she jogged up the four flights of stairs. Buildings in her price range had elevators, just not ones that worked on a consistent basis.

She changed quickly into her running outfit, checked her messages, and headed back out. She stretched the cramps and ki

nks out of her long limbs in front of the Ulysses S. Grant statue and started her run.

She headed west, past the Air and Space Museum, and then by the Smithsonian castle that, with its towers and battlements and twelfth-century-style Italian architecture, looked more like a mad scientist’s home than anything else. Her easy, methodical strides took her across the Mall at its widest point and she circled the Washington Monument twice.

Her breath was coming a little quicker now; the sweat began to seep through her T-shirt and blot the Georgetown Law sweatshirt she was wearing. As she made her way along the fringes of the Tidal Basin, the crowds of people grew thicker. The early fall brought plane-, bus- and carloads of people from across the country hoping to miss the summer crush of tourists and the infamous Washington heat.

As she swerved to avoid one errant child she collided with another runner coming the other way. They went down in a tangle of arms and legs.

“Shit.” The man rolled over quickly and then sprang back up. She started to get up, looked at him, an apology on her lips, and then abruptly sat back down. A long moment went by as camera-toting clans of Arkansans and Iowans danced around them.

“Hello, Victoria.” Lukeman gave her a hand up and helped her to a spot under one of the now bare cherry blossom trees that encircled the Tidal Basin. The Jefferson Memorial sat big and imposing across the calm water, the tall silhouette of the country’s third President clearly visible inside the rotunda.

Victoria’s ankle was starting to swell. She took off her shoe and sock and began to rub it out.

“I didn’t think you’d have time to run anymore, Lukeman.”

She looked over at him: no receding hairline, no paunch, no lines on the face. Time had stood still for Lukeman Graham. She had to admit it, he looked great. She, on the other hand, was an absolute and total disaster.

She silently cursed herself for not getting that haircut and then cursed herself again for even thinking that. A drop of sweat plunged down her nose, and she brushed it away with an irritable swipe of her hand.

“I was wondering the same thing about you. I didn’t think they let prosecutors go home before midnight. Slacking off?”

“Right.” She rubbed her ankle, which really hurt. He saw the pain, leaned over and took her foot in his hands. She flinched back. He looked at her.

“Remember I used to almost do this for a living and you were my best and only client. I have never seen a woman with such fragile ankles, and the rest of you looks so healthy.”

She relaxed and let him work the ankle and then the foot, and she soon realized he had not lost his touch. Did he mean that about looking healthy? She frowned. After all, she had dumped him. And she had been absolutely right in doing so. Hadn’t she?

“I heard about Patton, Shaw. Congratulations.”

“Aw shucks. Any lawyer with millions in legal business could’ve done the same thing.” He smiled.

“Yeah, I read about the engagement in the paper too. Congratulations twice.” He didn’t smile at that one. She wondered why not.

He quietly put her sock and shoe back on. He looked at her. “You’re not going to be able to run for a day or two, it’s pretty swollen. My car’s right over there. I’ll give you a lift.”

“I’ll just take a cab.”

“You trust a D.C. cabbie over me?” He feigned offense. “Besides, I don’t see any pockets. You going to negotiate a free ride? Good luck.”

She looked down at her shorts. Her key was in her sock. He had already eyed the bulge. He smiled at her dilemma. Her lips pressed together, her tongue slid along the bottom one. He remembered that habit from long ago. Although he hadn’t seen it for years, it suddenly seemed like he had never been away.

He stretched out his legs and stood up. “I’d float you a loan, but I’m busted too.”

She got up, put an arm against his shoulder as she tested the ankle.

“I thought private practice paid better than that.”

“It does, I’ve just never been able to handle money. You know that.” That was true enough; she had always balanced the checkbook. Not that there was much to balance back then.

He held on to one of her arms as she limped to his car, a ten-year-old Subaru wagon. She looked at it amazed.

“You never got rid of this thing?”

“Hey, there’s a lot of miles left on it. Besides, it’s full of history. See that stain right over there? Your Dairy Queen butterscotch-dipped ice cream cone, 1986, the night before my tax final. You couldn’t sleep, and I wouldn’t study anymore. You remember? You took that curve too fast.”