Page 96 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 2

“What?” I came around my desk and gently pushed him into one of the guest chairs, taking the other myself. “Chicago. All right. When? And why?”

“You know that witness I’ve been searching for? The Anderson case?”

“That’s the un-homed fellow who is accused of stabbing the bank guard?”

“Right. I’m sure I told you, or maybe I didn’t, but he swore that there was a customer at the ATM who saw what happened, and I finally got the information from the bank. He lives in Chicago and has agreed to do a depo, but the trial is next week, and if we don’t do it this weekend, there won’t be time.”

He could have asked for a delay of the trial of course, but like many of our pro bono cases, Mr. Anderson did not have the money to make bail. Sometimes we were able to get funds from a local charitable organization for that, but for such serious charges, and with a client who did not have an address, making the court call him a flight risk, it wasn’t going to happen. So any delay would result in the poor guy sitting behind bars longer. Probably for months.

“That’s good news. I don’t know why it took so long for the bank to cooperate, but I’m glad they finally came through. Did you need me to watch Bosco while you’re gone?” His cat and I had a true frenemy relationship, but he would tolerate me when necessary. The big orange guy had been a street dweller when Andy adopted him and loved him and only him. He had one missing ear and enough scars for a retired professional fighter, but seeing him sitting on Andy’s lap purring was a thing to behold.

“Actually, I wanted to ask you to go.” He ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand up even worse. “I need to be at Keri’s game tomorrow.”

His little one was an active soccer girl, although when I attended the games, all I saw was a bunch of two-year-olds running around and occasionally accidentally kicking or bumping into the ball. But the giggles made it all worthwhile.

“I see.” I didn’t see because the other dads from his daddy brunch group were always great about helping out when one of them couldn’t make it. But Andy wouldn’t be asking without a good reason, and if I was patient, he’d fill in the details. My mind was all about Riggs and our plans for the weekend…

“I need to be there for this one,” he went on, as if I’d asked about his usual alternates. “It’s a tournament, and I promised.”

“They have tournaments at their age?” I hadn’t ever seen one of them actually score a goal on purpose.

“Not really, but some of the dads thought it would be fun to have an extra-special day, so there’s a grill set up and someone is making brownies and each of them will get a patch to sew on their uniform…kid stuff.”

“It sounds amazing.” I was already changing my plans in my mind. Riggs would be disappointed, and so would I, but my goddaughter would not shed a tear because of me. I’d make it up to him as soon as I got back.

I hated feeling stuck in between a rock and a hard place. Especially because we were so new to one another and he’d been let down in the past. There would always be work things that interfered with our plans, and someone’s freedom was on the line.

“All right, then. I’ll run home and get some things.” And see if I could catch Riggs and explain in person. He’d be home by then. I kept a spare suit and toiletries in my office closet and had since the time someone spilled a cup of coffee on me right as I was leaving for court—that someone was me. So technically I didn’t need to go, but…

“There’s no time.” He held up his phone as if it confirmed his response. “Your flight leaves in two hours.”

I tried to reach Riggs on the way to the airport and also while running toward the gate, but I got voicemail each time and left a bare-bones apology and told him I’d fill him in when I landed.

Unfortunately, a weather system hundreds of miles west of us caused delays and what with one thing and another, including circling Midway Airport for an hour and a half; by the time I landed and got to my hotel, it was very late.

Too late to call again.

And with the depo very early the next morning, I did not have a chance to call again until I was on my way to the airport. The witness had been extremely helpful. With the crime taking place just outside the view of the security cameras, he’d been crucial to the case, and Andy planned to request a dismissal of charges. There was no guarantee…but I thought he stood a good chance of getting it.

I left another message on Riggs’ voicemail, apologizing and promising to see him as soon as I got home, but the lack of an answer had me feeling even worse.

As did the expression on his face when he opened the door. Oh hell.

Chapter 7

Riggs

I tried not to take it personally. I really did. But as soon as I saw Daddy, the hurt flooded into me. He didn’t mean to make me feel bad. I know he didn’t. None of it was under his control, but all my past disappointments came flooding into me, and the tears started to flow. It wasn’t fair to Daddy. I knew this—he knew this, but I couldn’t help it. I just couldn’t.

“I’m so sorry.” He stood there in my doorway, his bag at his side. He didn’t even go home first. I was his first priority, and what did I do? I had him feeling guilty, which only made me feel worse.

“I’m not mad, Daddy.” And I wasn’t. I had so many emotions flowing through me, but anger wasn’t one of them. “You can go home and put your things away.” I sucked back snot, sobbing. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. Can I come in?”

As if I could turn him down—ever. I stood out of the way to give him room. He brought his bags in, set them to the side, shut the door, and then pulled me into a hug.

I let my tears flow as he hugged me close, murmuring words of comfort. Just being in his embrace had me feeling both comforted and reassured. There was something about being with him that made everything okay.

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