All I Want Is Forever (8 page)

“You mean avoid the kinds of people and places we grew up with, right?” Derrick shrugged. “I want to make a difference.”

“Don't you get sick of the criminals, the lies, the sordid stories? We lived it.” Talia grimaced at the memories.

“I'm not sure I can explain it.” Derrick shook his head slowly. “I think we need to be involved in the criminal justice system. I guess because it had such a big impact on my life.”

“C'mon, there are thousands of careers.” Talia gazed at him.

“I'm not a desk job guy. I like being on the move and in the thick of things.” Derrick smiled. “That para
legal course while I was at the community college got me hooked.”

“You could have been a lawyer. With your brains you'd make a truckload of money.” Talia leaned toward him. “My friend Jarrod—”

“I don't want to wear a suit and do lunch. I'm not into being upwardly mobile.”

“There is nothing wrong with the good life,” Talia shot back.

“You want a guy who can give you a luxury town house and theater trips to New York. I got ya.” Derrick sat back in his chair and gazed past her to the river.

“So I'm superficial, is that it?” Talia ground her back teeth together. “Well, excuse me. I had my fill of living in the 'hood.”

“I want to work to make sure that when the bad guys go to jail, it sticks,” Derrick said, lowering his voice.

Talia looked at him through narrowed eyes. “You've just sublimated your addiction to adrenaline into fighting crime. I knew you when, Derrick. Well, who died and appointed you Batman?”

“I can't believe this!” Derrick waved a hand in the air.

“Mama Rose told me all about how you helped catch some dangerous thugs. Your mother must worry herself sick.” Talia pushed the ceramic mug aside.

“Mama understands my work.”

“Of course that's what she's going to tell you.” Talia rubbed her forehead. “It's so inconsiderate. Who the hell wants to sit up nights wondering if you're dead?”

He reached out and took her hand down from her
face. “I'm not in that much danger. You wouldn't have to worry.”

“Run around jumping in front of bullets if you want. I'll take my nice boring office job and my nice boring life, thank you very much.” Talia tried not to answer the silent call into a tender moment from his touch. She avoided meeting his gaze.

“Nothing is going to happen to me. I promise,” Derrick whispered.

“You don't know the future, so why take chances?” Talia tried to pull her hand away, but he held on tight. “And then there's my dear jailbird mother. God, I wish Mama Rose would come live with me!”

Derrick sat straight. “Something's up. Tell me what happened.”

Talia shook her head. “I went to a meeting with Representative Jackson's assistant, and Professor Rand was there.”

“He knows you're Monette's daughter?”

“No. Maybe he's seen pictures of me when I was a kid. Monette has some, I know. He kept trying to figure out why I looked familiar.”

“Monette is real serious about protecting you. I don't see her showing pictures of you even as a little girl.” Derrick frowned. “I have a feeling whatever she's holding back is heavy.”

“You should know not to listen to Monette. If I had a dime for every lie she's told, I'd be set for life.” Talia gave a bitter laugh.

“He just saw the resemblance. You look a lot like her.” Derrick squeezed her hand as he tilted his head to one side. “But your eyes are a lighter shade of brown. Like walnut. Your hair is darker and shiny, like rich mocha coffee.”

“I missed you so much,” she said in a strangled
voice. Talia couldn't have stopped the admission if she'd tried.

“I know, I know,” Derrick murmured.

Talia closed her eyes and pressed his hand against her breasts. Derrick whispered her name twice, then kissed her. He nibbled her lips as though savoring a sweet taste. She sighed at the tender attention he gave to exploring the inside of her mouth. His response to her seemed instinctive, as if he knew exactly how she needed to be kissed. When they finally parted, Talia had no doubts. She was in danger of falling in love with the man with the same intensity she'd loved the boy. Still, she didn't move away when he rested his forehead against hers. She didn't have the strength to resist right now. She felt safe with him.

“Derrick—”

“I know, you're going back to D.C.,” he said, and took a deep breath.

“I was going to suggest we leave now.” Talia looked into his eyes.

“My house is too far away. It will take us a good forty minutes to get there.” His eyes gleamed with desire. Derrick lived fifteen miles from Rougon, in the larger town of New Roads.

“There's a nice new Sheraton Hotel five minutes from here.” Talia nodded toward the tall building that was part of the nearby Argosy Casino complex.

Derrick kissed her hands and took a slow, deep breath. “I can't believe I'm saying this, but we should wait. I want us both to be sure.”

“You're not?”

“It was hell letting you go the first time. I don't know if I can take it again.” Derrick released his hold on her.

“I'm sorry. All I seem to do is think about myself.”
Talia felt stinging regret at the hurt she had caused him.

“I know you need to leave.” Derrick tapped his temple with a forefinger. “My brain knows that it's best for you. But my emotions get so caught up.”

“So we're stuck? I don't think so.” Talia shook her head. “We can have right now, and let tomorrow take care of itself.”

“Live for today.” Derrick seemed to turn over the words in his mind.

“We need to get to know each other all over again. I say we take the next few weeks to explore.”

Talia tingled with anticipation. She felt like a wily seductress. Yet the look in his eyes told her how much he wanted to be seduced. They were poised for a long free fall into passion. Maybe the pleasure would be worth the pain.

“That means we need to spend time together. You like to work long hours,” Derrick said. His brown eyes held a teasing glint.

“So do you from what I hear,” she replied.

“Yeah, but work was really all I had until now,” he said softly.

“I'm sure you've had girlfriends.” Talia didn't really want to know, but couldn't help asking.

“I always held back a big part of myself.”

Talia trembled at the expression of longing in his eyes. She burned to kiss away the sadness in his dark eyes. Without thinking, she touched her fingertips to the smooth-shaved skin of his face. A loud clatter of silver dropped by a passing waiter brought her back to reality. Talia started to lower her hand, but Derrick caught it in one quick move. She stared in fascination at the way his long, brown fingers laced through hers.

“We're both ignoring the warning signals. You just said—”

He nodded slowly. “I know. I don't have all the answers, but I can't stay away,” he whispered hoarsely, and planted whisper-light kisses on her fingers.

“So what now?”

Derrick planted one last kiss, then lowered their entwined hands to the table. “We go fishing.”

Talia's eyes popped open wide. “S'cuse me?”

He wore a mischievous smile. “Old River Landing was our place, remember? It's still there, and I've got my own boat.
Creole Lady Marmalade
is a beauty.”

“This is a joke.” Talia blinked at him. “I'm now a city girl.”

“Don't give me that urban cool act. She's a fifteen-foot beauty with an eighty-horsepower engine, comfortable cushioned seats.”

“I've got work, Mama Rose to look after, and—” Talia shook her head hard enough to make her thick hair bounce.

“Mama Rose is doing great; you just said so. Are you afraid of being on the river or of me?” Derrick arched one dark neat eyebrow as he gazed at her.

“Scared, ha! I've never been scared of fishing. And you're the least scary creature out in the swamp,” she retorted with a wave of her one free hand.

“You sure, baby girl?” Derrick's deep voice hummed with an erotic challenge.

Talia surprised herself when she blushed. She didn't think it possible after her experiences in life. To cover her confusion, she pulled her hand free.

“I'm sure.” She lifted her chin defiantly as she lied. Her heart thumped hard at the thought of them alone. They'd first made love surrounded by trees and flowers. Something about the countryside would always make her think of his body against hers.

Derrick's voice went deeper as he laughed at her acceptance of the challenge. He seemed to know she was
putting on an act. “I'm looking forward to a long, lazy afternoon in the sun. Just you and me.”

“You and me,” she said quietly, and stared in a trance as he leaned forward to kiss her lips.

Derrick sifted through a pile of paperwork on his small desk in the district attorney's office. He wanted to pick up the entire mess and toss it in the trash can. The office manager looked straight at him when he glanced up. Kelsey Palmer, short, plump with red hair, pursed her lips and adjusted her reading glasses. The fifty-year-old grandmother ran a tight ship.

“Don't even think about it,” she called out. Kelsey knew only too well his hatred of filling out forms.

“Yeah, yeah. I've got the expense forms right here and the voucher for witness expenses.” Derrick waved two sets of triplicate forms at her.

“You're not leaving this office until I get back those files you pulled. And where is that report you were supposed to dictate?” Kelsey crossed her arms as though fully prepared to block the door.

“Hey, you know I stay up on my interview reports. Cheryl has the tape. Right, Cher?”

A pretty woman with ebony skin seated three desks away waved a cassette tape over her head. “He's always on time with the tapes. Now the other stuff, that's a different story.” Cheryl brushed back her heavy woven braids over one shoulder.

“All I asked you about was the tapes,” Derrick tossed back with a sour face.

“Okay, let me see.” Kelsey walked to his desk with her hand out.

“Aw, geez! You're worse than my old grade school principal.” Derrick eyed her.

“I'm sure she had just as much trouble out of you, poor woman. Now give it up.” Kelsey's green eyes narrowed as she read. “Um-hum. Good, good.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Palmer.” Derrick mimicked the tone of a student talking to his teacher.

She lowered the papers and stared at him over the rims of her glasses. “Don't make me go there, Derrick. The boss will hound
me
if we don't keep good records, especially on the money you guys spend.”

“Yes, ma'am!” Derrick saluted her. “I'm in full compliance as of today.” He handed her another stack of folders.

She read a few labels. “Humph! Cheryl, I just solved the missing files mystery for three weeks. They were over here in Devil's Swamp,” Kelsey called over her shoulder.

“I needed those for the Jenkins case. I've got a new lead on the kid that shot those grocery clerks.” Derrick smoothed down his tie and faced two sets of disapproving eyes. “Crime fighting can't always follow bureaucratic office rules.”

Kelsey made a sputtering sound as she spun around and marched off. “Give me a break!”

“Sign them out. That's what the log is for, ya know,” Cheryl chimed in.

“Do you want neat logs or those punks in prison?” Derrick muttered.

“We want both, and with a little cooperation we can have it all,” Cheryl said. She grinned at him. “Hey, we fight crime in our own way.”

Derrick laughed. “You're absolutely right.

Larry Perrilloux came down the hallway. “Derrick, come into my office.” He spun around and marched off.

Cheryl made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Somethin's up.”

Derrick lifted a shoulder, then followed the DA into his office and closed the door behind him. “Yeah, Larry.”

Larry went around the wide heavy oak desk but didn't sit down. Instead he folded his arms and sat on the window ledge. “I got a call from Winn Barron about this sentencing thing.”

“Okay.” Derrick sat down in a dark red leather chair facing Larry's desk and waited.

“He heard about our trip to D.C.” Larry turned his back to Derrick and stared out the window. The manicured lawn stretched down to a pond with a fountain. “He made some good points.”

The previous DA in Pointe Coupee Parish, Barron had helped Larry get elected. Barron left office to run for state attorney general and won. From a wealthy old Louisiana family, Barron had increased their political power in the two years since his election. Winn had made it quite clear that he was opposed to changing mandatory sentencing. Derrick knew Larry felt uneasy going against his mentor.

“What's bothering you, Larry?” Derrick said, after letting a few moments of silence pass.

Larry turned around. “I'm not sure.”

“Barron is a ‘lock 'em up' kinda old-school prosecutor. He carried that with him to the state capital.”

“Yeah, right.” Larry's frown deepened. “Anyway, I guess we'll have to agree to disagree.”

“I don't get it. He knows the reality of prison overcrowding.” Larry brushed back a lock of dark hair from his brow and sat down. “Anyway, we've got a
perfect example of the problem right here.” He picked up a folder.

Derrick didn't need to ask what case he was talking about. “Talon Jackson is going to rat out everybody to get a deal.”

“And his fall guy, a seventeen-year-old, could get consecutive twenty-five-year sentences. Damn it!” Larry slapped the folder down hard. He gazed at Derrick. “I've got to stop this drug ring.”

“Joe Claycut won't let it go though.”

The president of the Citizen's Action Coalition, Claycut accused the local police and Larry of selective enforcement. An old-line civil rights activist, Claycut spoke loudly and often about what he saw as the new brand of racism.

“Maybe if you talked to him?” Larry leaned forward.

“Don't get your hopes up. Joe won't listen to me. He says I'm ‘misguided.'” Derrick smiled. He had a deep respect for the older man. Joe regularly sought to put him on the right path.

“I'm between a rock and a hard place.” Larry sighed.

Derrick knew he was thinking of the election in two more years. “Talia is right about one thing. African-American communities are sick and tired of being war zones.”

“Speaking of her, I'm eager to get her first report.” Larry stared at Derrick. “Have you gotten any kind of feel for what she's learned so far?”

“She'll make her report to you and the DAs'Association, Larry.” Derrick kept his voice and expression bland.

Larry nodded with a slight smile. He seemed to accept the deft sidestep of his subtle probe into Derrick's personal life. Then his expression grew serious again. “I hope it's soon. Winn will be at our state conference next week.”

“Will he push this as a make-or-break issue?” Derrick wondered if Barron would punish Larry for opposing him.

“No, no, nothing like that.” Still, Larry's tone did not seem confident. He put aside the Talon Jackson file and opened another folder. “Winn asked for information on some old cases. I'm not sure why, but I think he's going to use them to argue against changing the sentencing laws.”

“That's strange. He's been out of this office a long time.”

“Kelsey pulled these archived records for me.” Larry pushed six folders across the desk. “I don't remember any of these. Do you?”

“We were both in high school,” Derrick joked. His grin faded when he saw Monette's name on a file label. “Why did he say he wants these?”

Larry continued to read through another file. “The parole board meets in a month. He said something about filling me in on questions from the media. Give me a quick-and-dirty summary on the cases.”

“What does he care if these folks have done a big chunk of their time?”

“Families of victims don't forget. Maybe they want help in persuading the board not to grant paroles.” Larry flipped another page. “We get calls like that every once in a while.”

“Yeah, if it's murder, but usually not in a drug case. I don't get it.” Derrick frowned at the folders in his hand.

“Some involved young kids being sold drugs. Or maybe there was violence involved.” Larry shook his head. “One more thing to butt heads with him about.”

“What do you mean?”

“Unless those convictions involved egregious circumstances, I won't oppose parole.” Larry rocked back
in his chair. “I came down on the side of helping to relieve prison crowding. I really don't think keeping people locked up forever is the answer.”

As Larry went on talking about his dilemma, Derrick paid token attention. His thoughts were on Monette and her efforts to be released. If the attorney general took a personal interest, media attention was a foregone conclusion. Derrick stood abruptly.

“I'll get right on it,” he said, cutting Larry off.

“You don't need to put aside stuff we're working on right this minute.” Larry gazed at him in curiosity. “Recognize one of these names?”

“You know I find old cases interesting.” Derrick forced a half smile.

“Yeah, well on second thought read them in the next couple of days if you can. Winn might call back soon.” Larry scowled at the files as though they were a source of trouble for him. They well might be.

“No problem.” Derrick held the folders as though they were just another assignment.

Once back at his desk, he opened Monette's old case file and started reading. He made notes on other files and cross-referenced them. All the while he considered when and how to tell Talia about this latest development.

 

Derrick and Talia stood on the banks of Old River enjoying the view. He'd backed his 4Runner down to the edge, and his boat was ready to be launched. Sunlight bounced off waves kicked up by a passing jet ski. A young couple laughed as they shot by, waving to friends on a nearby party barge. The balmy September weather was perfect for a boat ride down the river.

“Ready?” Derrick rubbed his hands together.

“Yeah, I guess.” Talia frowned slightly behind her dark sunglasses.

“Aw, c'mon now. Don't go getting wimpy on me like some prissy city girl.” He reached out to tickle her side, and she danced away.

“Cut it out.” She slapped at his hand.

Derrick laughed, then walked down to the bank and unhitched the boat from the trailer. After making sure it was securely tied so it wouldn't float off, he moved the 4Runner to a parking space. He walked back to her and enjoyed the view. Talia looked lovely in denim shorts, a pink cotton shirt tied at the waist, and a denim-and-pink cap on her head. She wore blue socks and white athletic shoes. Derrick loved to watch the smooth movement of her silky brown legs as she walked.

“Here we go.” Derrick hopped into the boat first. He held out a hand and helped her climb aboard. “See? You've still got the moves.”

“The smallest boat I got on in D.C. was a yacht owned by a big chemical company. You do have caviar and white wine, right?” Talia flashed a dazzling smile at him.

His pulse rate jumped at the beauty before him. “Anything you want today, my lady. Anything.”

Talia squeezed his hand. “Don't promise what you can't deliver, bad boy.”

He laughed. “Okay, how about corn chips and Barq's Red Creme soda?”

“You didn't!” Talia squealed with delight. “I haven't had Barq's in ages.”

“That's just for snacking. I tossed in a few pieces of my mama's fried chicken, her world famous potato salad, and some French bread.” He held up the insulated wicker basket he'd bought a few days before.

Talia sighed and sank down onto one of the vinyl seats. “I'm in heaven.”

Derrick flushed with pleasure that he was the source
of her happiness. He started the boat and steered them out toward the open water. They rode along at a leisurely pace. Wind pushed against them as they moved along the river. Swamp oak and maple trees lined the banks on either side. Snowy white egrets floated above or swooped down to land in the lush tall grass on shore. The graceful birds dotted the green landscape like decorative statues standing very still, beaks held high with dignity. Twenty minutes later he cut the motor.

“This is a good spot for perch and catfish. Maybe we'll get lucky.” Still seated next to her, Derrick took fishing rods from the racks on the sides of the boat. “Speckled trout.”

“I love baked speckled trout.” Talia watched him.

“Well, now is your chance to work for your supper.” He handed her a rod and reel. “I hope you remember how to use one of these.”

“I'll see what I can do.” With a smug expression, she grasped the rod and executed a cast with one fluid motion.

Derrick let out a low whistle. “I don't think it all came back that fast, girl.”

“I've been on a few fishing junkets. You know, schmoozing courtesy of the big boys.” Talia laughed.

“Rubbing elbows with mad power brokers.” Derrick shook his head with a mock frown.

“Being from the bayou country had some advantages. I help the wheels of government run smoothly.” Talia reeled in her line slowly.

“You enjoy the fast pace of making things happen.” Derrick tugged on his line. The colorful metal floats of both their lines glittered in the sun.

“You betcha. I enjoy knowing all the inside dirt on how things get done.” Talia cast again. She glanced
around briefly before focusing on her line again. “But I'd forgotten just how peaceful being out here can be.”

“Yeah,” Derrick said in a quiet voice. He gazed at the tall grass swaying in a slight breeze.

They fished in silence for an hour. Derrick caught the first fish, a big perch as wide as his hand. Talia pretended to be angry that he'd beaten her. Moments later she gasped when her line went taut. She reeled in a fat catfish weighing at least three pounds. Over the next hour they landed six more fish. Derrick put them in a wire basket that hung over the side of the boat in the water. He'd brought an extra cooler of ice to store them on the ride home.

“I'm getting hungry,” Talia announced. “It's almost eleven. I say we eat.”

“Okay. I know a good spot for a picnic.”

They put the rods away, and Derrick started up the motor. Ten minutes to the west of them was a bend in the river. He guided the boat to a small natural harbor and dropped anchor. They jumped onto the soft grassy bank, and Derrick pulled the boat up closer. He got the picnic basket and a large blanket from a storage bin in the boat.