Chapter 33

Monday morning brought a special kind of excitement because of Sandra, and especially Megan, going back to work. There was general agreement that the extra precautions for Sandra were probably unnecessary, and they certainly would be dropped as soon as a restraining order was obtained. In fact, it was likely they would be back in their own house before the week was out.

Megan was another matter entirely. She seemed to be the only one who was not convinced that strong measures were necessary. Dex and Patrick had no doubt at all.

Elise joined Dex and Morgan in the gym on her own. Both of the others noticed that her face and hair had obviously had some attention. Dex would have bet long odds that this early hour would not be permanent with her, given her obvious difficulty waking up. Fully awake or not, she lit into her workout with determination, and, largely because of Kirstin's absence, everything was very business-like and focused. Elise once again could not help being focused on Dex as she observed parts of his routine she had not seen the previous morning.

"It's enough to make your pussy drip, isn't it?" Morgan whispered in Elise's ear when she caught her obviously staring at Dex during form drills. After her eyes widened and her face reddened dangerously, Elise managed a little smirk, surprising and delighting Morgan.

Because of the obvious tension that almost crackled from Elise, Morgan had not been sure whether or not Elise might harbor a streak of prudery. It concerned her because she definitely felt she was the one bringing Elise and Dex together. Although she had no doubt that Dex could free Elise of any such hangups eventually, she did not want the budding relationship slowed down. She also genuinely cared for Elise, and did not want her encumbered by any such nonsense. The little smirk gave Morgan the first, welcome glimpse of the worn-out woman's lusty side.

Two weeks ago, nine adults for breakfast would have seemed like a mob to Dex. Today, there was a definite feeling of emptiness because of the new friends that had already left. Sandra seemed quite nervous, while Megan seemed almost giddy. Probably, Dex thought as he observed, the fact that she was going to see Tim was the cause of Megan's excitement.

After everyone helped clean up, Sandra finished getting ready, and came up to get in the car, the driver of which had come in for a cup of coffee. In medium heels and a skirted suit, and with her party hairdo nicely refreshed, Sandra looked very trim and professional.

"Just a minute, Sandra," Morgan called out as Sandra headed for the door. Morgan grabbed Eric and pulled him with her to stand in line ahead of Sandra. "Remember your little drill. You know, the one I told you to think about when you were at work. Come on! Say it."

It was hard to tell which was Sandra's biggest problem, confusion or embarrassment. It seemed she really didn't remember, and now, everyone was watching her. Morgan was enjoying this way too much, but she honestly felt it was important to Sandra, as she moved next to the woman.

"First step, head up! Say it!" As if in a trance, Sandra straightened her posture noticeably and squeaked out "Head up."

"Next step, tits out! Say it!" This almost brought Sandra to her knees.

"Morgan, I can't..." Sandra looked around in a panic, particularly at Harv, the driver.

Morgan then did a hilarious parody of a drill sergeant, dressing down the quivering Sandra. "Soldier, it's a war out there, and I WILL NOT let you go out unprepared! Now, you will stay here and repeat this drill until you get it right, understood?? Now, do it and say it: Head up! Tits out! Ass Swinging! What's wrong with you soldier! Do you want to be the first casualty out there?"

Her usual instincts were once again proven correct, and Morgan soon had everyone laughing and chanting in unison "Head up! Tits out! Ass Swinging!" Sandra just stood in confusion and terror until Eric came up, put an arm around his mother's shoulder, and spoke in her ear for several seconds. He led her back from the door a few steps, turned her around, and patted her lightly on the butt.

To everyone's astonishment, insecure, uptight-appearing little Sandra strutted to the chanted cadence of her friends, joining the chant and, doing a reasonable job of executing the actions. After a few steps, she was right in front of Harv, and seemed to realize what she had just done. She barely had time to drop her head into her hands when she was mobbed and congratulated by literally everyone.

When things settled down, Harv held up his arm for Sandra and led her to the car. He was not a stranger because he was a driver at the party. In fact, he had driven Sandra, Eric, and her parents to the hotel that night. He had also danced twice with Sandra at the party.

After helping her into the car and driving away, Harv could see that Sandra was too embarrassed to even look at him, so he took the initiative. "Mrs. Kasten, I hope I'm not being too bold, but I would love to take you to lunch today. I have a suit, and I clean up OK. Would you do me the honor?"

At first, Sandra could only stare at Harv with wide eyes. As she was about to refuse politely, she had the thought that if Morgan found out Sandra had refused, she would kill her. Eric, too! Mustering a flirtatiousness she didn't know she had, she smiled at Harv and said "After that ridiculous little show back there, you still want to be seen with me?"

"Mrs. Kasten, that was..."

"Once more with the Mrs. Kasten, and I'll get out and call a cab. It's Sandie!" 'Where the hell did that come from, ' she asked herself. Sandie? No one called her that. It was so... informal. Well, so was her little strut back at the house. What's the difference? Harv's a stranger, so what if he writes her off as a complete ditz.

"OK, Sandie, then. That ridiculous little show, as you call it, I thought was sexy as Hell - uh, pardon my French. I could tell it took a lot of guts to do it, but you have some awesome friends, there."

Sexy? Her? You mean it wasn't just Eric saying that? Sandra - Sandie - was more than a little confused, now. In an attempt to get things back to where she could understand them, she asked Harv "How did you get stuck with chauffeur duty, anyway?"

"I asked for this, specifically." This was not at all what she expected to hear, and it certainly didn't help stabilize her little world, which seemed to be topsy turvy this morning.

"Oh, so you can choose your assignments?"

"Not always. I had to do a little arm-twisting to get to drive you."

"You... you mean someone else wanted to?" He must be shinin' her, now. There was no way that could be true. "What all do you do at that company, anyway."

Harv seemed uncertain how much to reveal, but decided she was worth it. "Well, you see, Carl and I are old buddies from Forces. We went through some nasty places together. While he was starting his security business, I went and got business and accounting degrees. When he got so big the paperwork was too much for him, he looked me up. Now, I keep him and Randy honest and out of trouble with the IRS and everyone. I still get to do some of the fun stuff once in a while. I'm actually a small partner in the business, too."

It was good for Sandie that they had arrived at her office, because her head was in too much of a spin for any more conversation. They agreed on a time for lunch and Sandie walked into work after missing a week, strangely unconcerned about how she would catch up.

Even though Megan seemed as excited as a schoolgirl, preparations for her going to work were much more sober. Patrick was nervous as he strapped on his borrowed weapon, and Jeanette was trying to hide her discomfort. No one bothered with one more attempt to dissuade Megan. They finally understood that not only was she determined, it was the right move.

The vehicle switch went off smoothly, and Megan arrived at Archer to welcoming banners and general good will. Patrick was shown his temporary office, than sat down to talk with Russell at length. Russell had made his call within five minutes of Megan's arrival. It was a hard thing for him to do, but he understood the plan.

Patrick had decided to try for Captain during the selection process coming up in a few months. Although much less formal than the sergeant selection, for example, it was still civil service, and there were still tests. He cold make good use of the hopefully idle time guarding Megan to study for his testing. So, he had arrived at Archer with a gun under his arm and a briefcase in his hand.

Dex had decided to stay home for a while after the two women left for work. He had some things to take care of at Archer later in the day, but he had neglected his portfolio for too long. He had been in his office for about an hour when his lawyer, Marty Granville, called, asking to talk to Megan. He told her Megan had gone to work and made sure Marty had the number.

Marty then told him that Nichole from the DA's office had managed to move up Craig's trial date to January 16, an unheard of acceleration. More evidence of the suborning of judges, court calendars, etc. was coming to light since the flap after Craig's arrest and release. Craig was now the victim of revenge by an honest judge. Whatever the motive, Dex was delighted. This would put even more pressure on Craig.

Before hanging up to call Megan at work, Marty asked to talk to Kendra, and Dex went to fetch her. When he brought her into his office and told her who was on the phone, she looked frightened. Without thinking, he sat in his desk chair and held out his arms to her. With no more thought than Dex had given it, Kendra sat in his lap, leaned against him, and took the phone.

Marty told Kendra that her husband's and her family's lawyers would be in her office in a half hour. "Here's what I am demanding for you, Kendra. A cash settlement, life-long, 100% medical coverage for your daughter," - Kendra broke into tears at that and barely heard the last demand - " and a sizable contribution to the Connie Archer Foundation, designated for Elise's shelters. That contribution will be large enough to support one full-time employee."

"C... can you really get all that? They'll have all those people..."

"Honey, you just ask Dex. I've got more balls than any gang they can bring in here. Besides, we've got right on our side. And I moved my personally autographed photo of Judy Morris right over my chair."

"You mean the TV reporter? How do you know her?"

"Honey, ask Dex about that, too. I'll talk to you later. I've got to hurry and put the whoopee cushions on all my guests' chairs." She was laughing heartily when she hung up.

"When can I meet Marty?" Kendra asked. "She is something else!"

"You've got that right. I owe her a lot."

"Sounds like I will, too. And I owe you a lot, too." Still on his lap, she wrapped him firmly around the neck and gave him a sound kiss. Feeling him stiffen slightly, she told him. "Don't worry, I know you're Elise's man."

"So that's generally accepted, now, huh?" he asked.

"Don't you want to be?" Kendra retorted. Dex just gave her a squeeze in return. After an easy pause, she spoke again. "Do you know, Dex? I can count on my fingers the number of minutes in my whole life I have sat in a man's lap like this. I love it!"

Sometimes emotions blindside a person and there is no defense. That happened to Dex right then, and the tears came spontaneously. He didn't resist, just let them flow for a while, sure that Kendra knew. She snuggled against him for several minutes, then took his face in her hands, kissed both of his eyes, and left the room.

The meeting in Marty's office was much heavier on comedy than on pathos. She stood as the secretary ushered in four people, categorizing them in a few seconds. There was the over-the-hill partner, obligatory to anything involving blue-chip clients. The evidence of plastic surgery and hair implants was obvious.

The seller was obvious in his carefully matched clothes and jewelry and his impeccable coiffure.

The brains was the pencil thin brunette with the slightly distant look in her eyes.

Last, of course, was the gopher who would end up making everything into an acceptable legal agreement.

With plain intent to be noticed, Marty reached over and switched on the recording system in the room.

"Ms. Granville, certainly recording isn't necessary, here," objected Partner.

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, often negotiations move more quickly when there is a bit more, uh, flexibility to discuss freely."

"First of all, there will be no negotiations, so I am a bit puzzled by the presence of all four of you. Secondly, I am aware of your firm's approach to, uh, less-structured negotiations."

"What do you mean by that remark?" Partner insisted.

"I was referring specifically to Sussman v. Crowley,..." Marty named two other cases in which that partner had been citied by the Bar Association for questionable negotiating practices.

Seeing his objection cut off, Partner started on another tack. "All right, you may record. Now, as to your demands, our clients obviously cannot accept such outrageous and unjustified terms." As he spoke, Marty had picked up Judy Morris's card and begun turning it in her fingers. She made sure the name paused in plain view at each rotation. Brains, at least caught the full import of Marty's actions.

"Oh!" Marty said in fake relief. "Guess I can make my early lunch date after all, then. I'll send my secretary in to show you out." She bustled out and pulled her giggling secretary away from the conference door before they collapsed together in a laughing heap. They had barely regained composure, when Partner came hurrying out.

"Ms. Glanville, could you spare a moment for a clarification?" Marty agreed and re-entered the room with him. "Are we to assume," Partner asked, "that your client will just drop all demands for a settlement if we do not agree with your demands?"

"Yes, that's right."

"So, she will just let the matter die?"

"Oh, of course not. As you know, I have strong connections in the entertainment industry. With a few consultations, I have estimated the value to my client of book and movie rights for her story. Women's networks like Lifetime and Oxygen are just crying for movies like that. Of course, Hollywood writers tend to embellish a bit, but..." She ended with a theatrical shrug. "Decently-written exposes on the evil deeds of the filthy rich uniformly make the top 100 book list, and a third make the top 25. With that poor baby..." She rubbed her fingers together in the universal symbol for lots of cash.

"Anyway, I based the demand for Kendra's personal compensation on the estimated net value of those book and movie rights. As for the baby's long-term care; my friends at the DA seem quite confident a criminal charge of fetal endangerment will stand against the husband. That generally portends a generous settlement in the subsequent civil suit. Again, with that poor little girl in the courtroom..."

"Unfortunately, without this settlement, we will lose the contribution to the battered women's shelter that rescued Kendra. She is committed to helping them all she can from the proceeds of her story, though, so we hope it sells well."

"If there's nothing else, then... Oh, I am having lunch with Judy Morris, the TV reporter, Wednesday noon. She has been talking about expanding one of her stories into her first book. I think she will see the potential of this one."

Marty made a show of picking up her few papers and striding toward the door. Just outside, she ducked her head back in and said, "Oh, I'm sure you understand that money in the bank is the only valid indication of agreement."

Marty was telling the truth about Judy being in town, and she wondered how Judy would react to finding her accustomed rendezvous with Dex no longer a possibility.

Craig's lawyer protested a busy calendar when he eventually notified Craig of the new court dates at around noon. The truth was, it took him that long and a couple of stiff shots to prepare for the verbal blast he knew he would have to absorb. Wallace had been a pretty lucrative client for several years, with all the deals he completed. Lately, though, he seriously doubted it was worth the aggravation.

Craig met and exceeded the lawyer's negative expectations, raging on for a couple of minutes, using mostly words proscribed by the FCC. The lawyer was astute enough not to even think of a face to face meeting, so he spent the time with the phone held away from his head. He wondered how a man who had once seemed so urbane and in control could have deteriorated to this level.

About 2:30 in the afternoon, Randy called both Dex and Patrick to let them know Craig's car was headed in the general direction of Archer. Neither had any doubt of his destination, and Dex asked for reports every five minutes.

Dex called Susan and told her he suspected Craig might show up at Archer, violating the restraining order. She told him they could only respond to a call from the premises stating that Craig was already there. Making sure a patrol was within a couple of minutes was the best she could do, and she would.

The next five minute report had Craig still on course, only eight to ten minutes out. Patrick went to Tim and told him what was happening. He recommended that any employees outside or near the entrance be pulled back. Tim was surprised at the implied danger, but Patrick assured him they were just being extremely cautious.

The next five minute report left no doubt, and Patrick stationed himself so he could see the parking lot entrance. He carried a cordless phone that was part of the Archer system, ensuring proper identification of the location of the call when he dialed 911. Everyone had rehearsed how to do things by the book so Craig could not weasel out. In their state, violation of a restraining order was technically contempt of court. The judge alone had control of the length of confinement.

There was little drama in the actual event, for anyone except Craig and the arresting officers, that is. True to his recent behavior, he went ballistic when the female officer accosted him. She called for backup, which happened to be another woman. Megan had been hanging back and saw Patrick laughing with glee. Unable to resist, she joined him, and soon was laughing, as well.

By some miracle, Craig refrained from a physical confrontation, and one officer expertly cuffed him and took him away while the other came in to get a statement.

The questioning of Patrick and Megan was cordial, even friendly, and finished in less than fifteen minutes. Afterward, Megan was strangely energized, and seemed to dance around the office for the rest of the day.

Supper at Dex's house Monday night was almost giddy. Susan had called just as they were sitting down. From a friend in the sheriff's office she had heard that Craig was in jail for the night for contempt, with no recourse. On top of that, Jeanette had twisted Harv's arm with about two ounces of pressure to get him to stay for dinner. Sandra was acting like a teenager on her first date, as he held her chair and was generally attentive.

Dex addressed Harv, whom he knew relatively well. "Hey, Harv, thanks for doing chauffeur duty. How was your day?"

"Well, after I dropped Sandie off at..."

"SANDIE!!??" about six voices yelled at once. Harv blushed deeply while Sandra became incandescent.

"I thought that was your name!" Harv said, turning toward her.

"Well, I..." The rest of Sandra's attempted reply was drowned by a gale of laughter from the table.

When things settled down, she once again delighted the crowd with far more than her usual personal revelation. "H... Harv was calling me Mrs. Kasten, which was the last thing I wanted to hear any more. I don't know... Sandie just popped out." She looked almost on the edge of tears, and Morgan was behind her chair in a flash, hugging her around the neck and speaking softly in her ear.

"Sweetie, being Sandra hasn't been much fun, lately, has it? If you want to start over as Sandie, that's just fine with us."

When dinner was over, the men headed for the TV where yet another bowl game was playing, except for Patrick, who headed for the Police shooting range. Sandie was still in her work clothes and went down to change. Morgan saw this, and waited about ten minutes before heading down after her. She knocked on Sandie's door and walked right in, catching her in bra and panties. A pair of jeans had been pulled to her knees, and a wool sweater lay on the bed waiting for her.

"Nope! Huh, uh!" Morgan exclaimed as she walked over to prevent Sandie from pulling up the jeans. "You need to show the most Sandie you can without wearing a swimming suit. Shorts. Sleeveless top. That's what you need."

"But it's winter," Sandie tried to object.

"Dex keeps the house plenty warm. Besides, it wouldn't matter. You're dressing for effect, not for comfort. One of the little sacrifices us gals have to make sometimes."

"Morgan! He'll think I'm brazen!"

"And..."

"But I hardly know him. What will he think?"

"He'll think you look even better than his first impression. Look, Dex tells me Harv is a super nice guy who made a terrible choice in a wife and ended up getting raped for it. As far as anyone knows, your lunch today was his first date in four years. What does that tell you?"

"That he likes me? But I don't know if..."

"You can throw him back later if you don't want him. You have to make sure you hook him, first."

"That sounds kinda mean," Sandie objected.

"I know you, Sandie. You could never be mean to him."

"Wh... what if he doesn't like how I look."

"Then you'll find out now, rather than later. Besides," and Morgan led Sandy, still clad in only underwear, to the mirror, "what's the real chance of that? Do you really think all of Eric's compliments are just from teenaged hormones?"