Just Desserts

By Ayesha Haqqiqa

Disclaimer: All characters are property of Dick Wolf; no profit is made from this story.

 

 

Let’s face it.  January is January, no matter how you look at it. The holidays are gone, and all you are left with are bills and a love note from the IRS called Form 1040.  But this year, Jack had been handling January fairly well.  His annual cold wasn’t as bad, and he’d been able to win a string of high-profile cases, which helped Nora Lewin look good in the press.

 

And it was Nora that Jack was concerned about.  She’d taken on the District Attorney’s job like a trouper, but he was never really sure she cared for it.  He knew that personally she was against the death penalty, but that she had backed him when he asked for, and got, Murder One for an 18-year-old boy.  She had spent hours managing the Executive’s meeting, which was full of ambitious prosecutors, some of whom thought they were far better qualified to be DA than a former law school professor.

 

Lately, when Jack had gone into her office, Nora appeared distant and distracted.  Once he caught her wiping her eyes with a handkerchief.  She’d said it was an allergy, but Jack knew better.  He wished she would tell him what was bothering her, and yet he was afraid, too.  Because he was sure it would mean that Nora was leaving his life—again.

 

“Jack and I know each other.”  What an understatement Nora had made when the Mayor came to introduce her to the staff!  How many people knew of their friendship—and brief affair—all those years ago?  It had happened when they were both young, both unattached.  And Jack had been a fool, and lost her.

 

Nora later married—briefly.  She didn’t seem to have any sort of social life, at least with single men, and rumors had floated around that she was gay.  Jack knew she was anything of the sort.  He’d seen her a couple of times after her divorce, but it was only to wave and say hi.  He’d been involved then, with one woman after another, trying to get over his own failed marriage.  And now she was here, and he saw her every day.  She had been all business from the start, though in a gentler, kindlier way than Adam.  She had won the fierce loyalty of the young female ADAs, as well as about two thirds of the senior staff.  With Jack, she’d been friendly, but shied away from the intimacy they once shared.

 

Jack, in his own way, was glad.  He was afraid to open doors that had long been closed.  He’d stopped his womanizing, having been cured of that with the death of Claire Kincaid.  Oh, he’d date the occasional history professor, but it was for company and not anything else.  He kept telling himself that your sixth decade was a good time to grow up.  But it didn’t make him less lonely. 

 

“Jack.  Meeting.”  Simon Feldman, the chief executive assitant DA leaned in the door. 

 

“I thought the Executives Meeting wasn’t until tomorrow,” Jack said.

 

“Special one, just called by The Boss,” Simon replied.  “Will probably last an hour or two.”

 

Jack groaned, looking at the mountain of paperwork on his desk.  “Be right with you,” he sighed.

 

The Executive Committee was split, two thirds men, one third women.  The women were all of color, with the exception of Murial Hopkins, a striking blonde in her mid forties whose specialty was fraud investigation.  Though the majority of men were white, like Greg Morgan, there were some Hispanics, including Ramon Rivera, nephew of Judge Joseph Rivera, as well as several African Americans.

 

Nora entered the room and took her place.  “I want to congratulate all of you for the fine record of convictions for this month.  That’s a good start to the year 2002.  I called you to let you know that there are likely to be some controversial cases coming up on our docket soon.”

 

“Terrorists?”  Ramon guessed.

 

“No, the Feds have captured all that turf,” Murial said disgustedly.

 

Nora looked from one EADA to the other.  “If I may continue.  It doesn’t matter what the case is—what matters is how we handle it.  Mayor Bloomberg let me know that he wants to keep up the image of the City.  He doesn’t want a lot of bad publicity telling potential tourists that Manhattan isn’t safe.”

 

“You mean we are to be a PR arm of the Mayor’s office?” Murial asked sarcastically.

 

“No, but I want you to clear any press conferences and press statements with me first,” Nora replied crisply.  “The City doesn’t need a tempest in a teapot.”

 

“But what if we are confronted by reporters?”  Ramon asked.

 

Nora smiled.  “Just say ‘no comment’ and go on.”

 

 “Sounds like an infringement of our civil liberties,” Greg Morgan said.  He was known to be very liberal for a prosecutor, and he was one who thought he could handle the DA’s office much better than Nora.

 

“I call it working as a team,” Nora replied stoutly, but with a hint of exhaustion in her voice.  “You know I consulted you all before I made a statement about the death penalty”

 

“Something I’d never do,” Murial whispered to Simon, who frowned and shook his head.

 

Nora ignored the remark and went on.  “The point is, we’ve all done a good job.  The Mayor simply wants us to keep it up.”

 

“Even if it furthers his own political ambitions—and yours?”  Greg Morgan asked boldly.

 

Nora looked at him.  “I know you’re on the other side of the political fence from the Mayor,” she said, “but politics is not going to run this office.  We are here to serve the people of New York County.”

 

“Fine, but that won’t win you votes come Election Day,” Morgan shot back.

 

Nora looked at him for a long moment..  Finally, she looked down at her notes.  “The other item that I wish to speak about today is efficiency.  Your staffs have all done so well following the chain of command that I don’t hear what’s going on in the trenches anymore.”  She looked pointedly at Murial Hopkins.  “Since I like to know how the place is running, I will be making periodic visits to each department, and I will be taking time to talk with all the ADAs.  Tell them to have their gripes ready.”  She looked around the room and sighed.  “That’s all for today.  This meeting will take place of the regular one scheduled for tomorrow.  Thanks for coming on such short notice.”

 

“She’s starting her campaign,” Greg Morgan told Murial as they left.  “She’s shutting us up and kissing up to our staff.”

 

“I’m not worried,” Murial said.  “My people know where their loyalties lie, though I’ve got to wonder about some of yours.”

 

Morgan smiled.  “I take care  of my own.  It’s you who keeps a tight leash on your staff.”

 

“Better than the sloppy work of—oh, hello, Simon.”  Murial turned, acutely aware that Simon Feldman had been standing behind them, listening.

 

“You know, I think we all have work to do,” he said quietly as he walked between them and out the door.  Jack followed, and glared at his fellow EADAs.

 

Murial gazed after him.  “Do you suppose the rumors I hear are true?  That he still carries a torch for her after all these years?”

 

“What ‘all these years’?” Greg asked.

 

“It’s something I heard at a Bar Association dinner soon after Nora was appointed to fill in for Adam.  It came from Shelly Kates, who worked with Jack when he just started.  Seems Nora and he lived together for a time, or took a trip together, or something.”

 

“Old history,” Greg Morgan said.  “Whatever happened then hasn’t effected how Nora and Jack work together now.”  He paused.  “But if they were close at one time, that might account for it.”

 

“What?” Murial asked.

 

“Why Nora has been so sad lately.  Haven’t you noticed?  I bet she found out McCoy’s taste in women runs to ADAs instead of DA s.”

 

Murial smirked.

 

Nora, meanwhile, was straightening up her notes prior to leaving the room.  Not that they needed straightening.  But she didn’t want to go out with the others, didn’t want to have to make small talk to them.  Most of all, she wanted to avoid Jack.  He was the only one who knew her well enough to break through the façade and find out what was really the matter.

 

She waited.  There, the last of them was out the door, and their voices soon faded.  Nora picked up her papers and went out.  She took the shortest way back to her office, telling her secretary, Stace, to hold all calls.  She lay the papers on the desk, and then put her head down and cried.

 

“You know you can trust me,” a voice said softly.  Nora sat up quickly and wiped her eyes.  Jack was leaning across her desk, looking concerned.

 

“Darned sinus headache,” she murmured as she reached for a handkerchief to dab her eyes.

 

“It’s not a headache, or sinuses, that are causing you to act this way,” Jack said, coming to her side.  Tentatively, he put a hand on her shoulder.  “I know something’s wrong, Nor, but I don’t know what.”

 

He called her Nor, just as he had those many years ago.  She placed her hand on top of his, and gently moved it to the desk.

 

“Just a headache, Jack,” she said.

 

He looked at her, his face working with emotion.  “Don’t do this to me, Nor!” he cried.  “I know I was a beast back then, but we were in our twenties!  Give me another chance, even though I don’t deserve it.”

 

Nora looked at him with concern, and said softly, “You still beat yourself up because of what happened, don’t you?”

 

Jack bowed his head.  “There hasn’t been a day go by since you’ve been here that I’ve wanted to come in, to say I’m sorry, but I was afraid you’d fling my apology back in my face.”

 

Nora’s hand was still on Jack’s, and she patted it.  “Come on, Jack, I couldn’t do that.”

 

He looked up at her, and she smiled a wistful, sad smile.

 

“You know I still care for you,” he said huskily, leaning forward and taking her hand in both of his.

 

“And I know that I can trust you on everything except matters of the heart,” Nora replied.  Jack looked chastened.  “Come on, Jack, that should come as no surprise.”

 

“Just desserts,” Jack muttered, turning away.  He walked towards the door, but then turned around.  “Has someone hurt you, Nora, as badly as I did?”

 

“Oh Jack!” Nora almost laughed.  She noted his confusion, and quickly tried to explain.  “You looked so pitiful—I wasn’t laughing at you—it’s that you think I have a man—“

 

“Well, do you?” Jack demanded, clenching his fists.  “Because if you do, and that’s the trouble, I’ll sort him out.”

 

Nora got up and came to him.  “Jack, my knight in dented armor.  You would do it, I know.  But it’s not a man who has broken my heart.  It’s Shannon.”

 

“Shannon?”  Jack was thunderstruck.  “But she’s like a daughter to you, Nora.  You raised her after your sister and her husband were killed in that accident.”

 

“Shannon was the daughter I never had,” Nora said, half to herself.  She walked away from Jack and looked out the window.  “The daughter I pretended was ours,” she said softly to herself.  She turned and looked at Jack.  “You know I regretted the fact that I never had a family.  And then Shannon came into my life.  All the years I raised her, I tried to do my best, and yet—and yet—“

 

Jack was there, and Nora cried in his arms.  He stroked her back and held her close, glad she could not see the tears cascading down his own cheeks.  Finally, he whispered softly, “Come on, Nor, tell me what has happened.  I truly want to help.”

 

Nora pulled herself together.  “It started when she went upstate to college.  I wanted her to attend a college in the City, but she was all for getting away, ‘trying her wings’.  At first, I visited, and she seemed to be doing fine.  But then I’d come up for weekends, and she’d be out.  I’d call and ask her to come home, but she’d make excuses.  At the semester, I found out from the dean that she was failing several of her classes, mostly for unfinished work and non-attendance.  That’s when I went up to have a heart-to-heart talk with her, and she was gone.  Vanished.  Her room was emptied of all her personal things, and I didn’t know what to think.”

 

“Didn’t anyone know where she had gone?” Jack asked.  “Surely a roommate or a friend—“

 

“I asked her roommate, Jennifer, who told me Shannon had been very stressed out over the heavy workloads imposed on freshmen.  She told me Shannon had gone to counselling.  Then I had the shock of my life. Jennifer told me Shannon had attempted suicide.”

 

“What?  And you weren’t informed?”  Jack cried.

 

“Not real suicide—it was in therapy,” Nora explained.  “She’d written it all out, what she would do—and why.  I filed missing persons—“ Nora began crying again.

 

“Filing a missing persons report didn’t make you cry,” Jack said softly.  “It’s what Shannon said, isn’t it?”

 

Nora nodded.  Jack held her close again.  Finally, Nora whispered, “She told Jennifer—I was smothering her.  Expecting too much.  And those words, those very words—“

 

“I wish I had never said them,” Jack’s voice shook.  “Oh God, Nor, if I had known that they would hurt you not once, but twice—“

 

“Not your fault, Jack, not your fault,” Nora’s voice was trembling.  “My own—with both of you.”

 

“No, Nora, no,” Jack said.  “I was young, and stupid.  I didn’t have experience, and I didn’t realize what a caring, wonderful person you were until it was too late.”

 

“Jack,” Nora whispered, “it’s never too late.”  She reached up and kissed him softly on the lips.

 

It was only then that Jack realized that Nora cared for him as much as he cared for her.  He returned the kiss tenderly.  They stayed locked in each other’s arms for some time.

 

Finally, Nora broke away.  “When nothing came of the missing person’s report, I went to a detective agency to see what they could find.  There was no trace of Shannon upstate,” she said.  “So I’m going to get  some private detectives here to look into the matter discreetly. ”

 

“You think she’s come back to the City?” Jack asked.

 

“Yes,” Nora said.  “This has always been her home.  I just don’t know why she didn’t tell me, come to me—before she ran away.”

 

“She’s young, Nora,” Jack said, stroking her hair.  “Young and foolish.  Did her roommate say anything about Shannon’s friends?  Who she hung out with?”

 

“Jennifer said Shannon had had a few friends.  She’d always been quite studious, and it’s been hard for her to make friends, so that didn’t surprise me.  Her not doing her work does.  She loved school—always.  She thought the Wright Academy was the best place in the world.”

 

“The Wright Academy?  Have you checked with folks there?” Jack asked.  “Maybe she’s made contact with one of them.”

 

Nora looked at Jack, surprised.  “I’ve been so upset, I hadn’t thought of doing that.”

 

“Then that’s what needs doing,” Jack said.  He looked at her.  “I’m caught up on my cases,” he lied, “so if you want some help—“

 

“I’d like that, very much,” Nora said.  “I’ll go call the head of the academy now.  If I find anything—will you go with me?”

 

“Sure,” Jack said warmly.  “At the drop of a hat.”  He took Nora’s hand and squeezed it, then reluctantly let go.

 

Jack tackled his pile of paperwork with a vengence, never even looking up when he heard his door open. 

 

“Serena, I need you to help me—“

 

“It’s not Serena, but it does look like you need help,” Nora said as she entered the room.    “Looks like you were struck by an avalanche of work.”

 

Jack looked at her sheepishly.  “It was here before.  But it can wait, Nora.  Your case takes priority.”

 

“This isn’t a case, Jack,” Nora replied gently.

 

“No, but it is your happiness,” Jack replied.  “I’ve called Serena to come, and she can work on it while we’re out.  That is, if that’s okay with you.”

 

Nora turned as Serena came in.  “Ms Southerlyn, I have one question for you—has Mr. McCoy overburdened you with work?”

 

“Well—no,” Serena looked from Jack to Nora, confused.  “I can handle whatever Jack wants me to do.”

 

“I’ll get him back to you ASAP,” Nora promised.  “He and I are doing a little investigating, and we need to go out.”

 

“Sure,” Serena said, as she watched Jack leave his desk and quietly get on his coat.

 

“It’s the Monroe case,” Jack said, coming over to her with a folder.  “I’ve been looking through the detective’s reports to see if there’s anything more to add to the evidence against him.  I’ve finished to page—forty.”  He showed her the document.  “You know the drill.  I’ll be back as soon as I can.”  With that, he walked to Nora, who led them out of the room.

 

Serena looked at them, amused.  “If he wasn’t wearing that ridiculously ugly stocking cap, I’d say he was taking our DA out on a date,” she said to herself.

 

Miss Wurtles, headmistress  of Wright Academy, greeted Nora with open arms.  “It’s always good to see a parent who was so supportive while her child was in school!  And it is nice that you wish to keep up with Shannon’s old friends!”

 

“She—has had some adjustment problems upstate,” Nora said, “and I thought if she could have the addresses of some of her old friends here—“

 

“Yes, that often helps,” Miss Wurtles said as she went to her computer.  “I recall the girls that were Shannon’s friends.  Intellectuals, all of them.  Let’s see—Beverly Heidenbach is going to Yale, and Rebecca Hermann is attending Princeton.  Now, the one that has stayed closest to home is Carla Santiago.  She’s attending NYU.”

 

“Just the one I wish to talk to,” Nora said quickly.  “I’m trying to convince Shannon that attending school in the City would be better.”

 

“Well, I have her home address and phone, though she may have moved,” Miss Wurtles said.  “But her email should be current.”  She printed out the information and handed it to Nora, who thanked her.

 

“She knows something is wrong, but won’t tell a soul,” Nora said to Jack.  “It would reflect badly on the school if she did.”

 

“Then why not tell her the whole truth?” Jack asked as he unlocked Nora’s car and let her in. 

 

“Maybe—because I’m too ashamed.  Ashamed of what Shannon’s running away implies.”

 

Jack got behind the wheel and turned and looked at her.  “Shannon is eighteen years old.  What she does now is her responsibility.”

 

“Like that young man who is sitting on Death Row because he killed the Chinese delivery man?”  Nora looked grave.  “I can help but think of his poor mother, what she’s going through.  She thought she’d raised him right, too.”

 

Jack took Nora’s hand and patted it.  “No need to beat yourself up about this,” he said. 

 

“As if I can help it,” Nora sighed.  She fished out her phone from her purse and punched in the number.  “Is Carla home?  No?  I’m looking for her—or rather my neice, Shannon O’Malley.  Oh really?  They were?  And you have the address?  Thank you.”  Nora sighed with relief as she got off the phone.  “Mrs. Santiago saw Shannon the other day.  She was with Carla, and they had come to dinner.  I have Carla’s new address.”  Nora was glowing as she gave the slip of paper to Jack.

 

The glow on Nora’s face dimmed as they reached the address.  It was not one of the finer neighborhoods.  Homeless people sat on the sidewalk, and trash and filth was scattered around.  Nora stepped around a rather disgusting looking puddle to make it to the steps of the aged tenement.  Jack took her arm to steady her, but she waved him off and boldly went inside.

 

The name ‘Santiago’ was on one of the  mailboxes, and Nora hit the buzzer above it. 

 

“Who is it?” a voice crackled.

 

“Nora Lewin,” Nora shouted.  There was a pause—a long one.  Finally, the click came to let them inside.

 

The apartment was on the third floor, and Nora saw Carla standing in the doorway as they walked up the stairs.

 

“Hello, Carla,” Nora said.  “I was wondering if you could help me.  I’m looking for Shannon.”

 

“Hey, Shannon isn’t here,” Carla said, crossing her arms in front of her.

 

“Have you seen her recently?” Nora asked.

 

Carla looked at her.  “I’ve seen her around,” she said finally.  “You got this address from my mother, didn’t you?  Then you know Shannon went with me to see her.  Shannon had come by my place that afternoon, and we hung out together, until it was time to go see my family.  I haven’t seen her since.”

 

“Young lady, you’re lying,” Jack said, coming over to her.  “Don’t try to deny it.  I’m in the business of finding out the truth.  Shannon’s in your apartment right now, isn’t she?  Won’t you let us come in?”

 

“Hey, if you are so into getting at the truth, get this.  You can’t come in here unless I give you permission,” Carla said stoutly.

 

“I know that,” Jack said.  “As you have probably surmised, I’m an officer of the court.”

 

“You’re with the DA, so you’re a prosecutor,” Carla said.

 

“And the work of a prosecutor is to see justice is done,” Jack replied.  “Is it just that Shannon ran away and never told her aunt where she was going?  Nora has been worried sick!”

 

“Just one more thing on my list of screwups,” Shannon said as she came to the door and opened it wide.    Carla looked at her in surprise.  “No, it’s okay.  Aunt Nora needs to know sooner or later.  It might as well be now.”  She turned and walked into the apartment.  Carla stepped aside and invited Nora and Jack in.

 

Compared to the neighborhood, the apartment was a castle.  The furniture was old and worn, but things were neat and clean.  Shannon sat down on an overstuffed chair, crossing her hands and legs defensively.  Nora looked at her, and then sat on the couch, where Jack joined her.

 

“I’ve got some studying to do,” Carla said, and fled to another room.

 

Shannon looked at her aunt for some time.  Nora smiled, and tried to pat Shannon’s knee, but the girl pulled away.  Nora sighed, and looked at Jack helplessly.

 

“I’m Jack McCoy, Shannon,” he said. 

 

“I know who you are.  I’ve seen you at Hogan Place,” Shannon said.

 

“Would you rather I go so you can have a private talk with your aunt?”

 

“It doesn’t really matter, does it?  There’s nothing much to talk about.  I screwed up, big time.”

 

“Shannon, everyone screws up from time to time.  That’s part of the price we pay for being human,” Jack said.  “Now, the failures in life are the ones who never learn from their mistakes and keep repeating them.  The winners in life are the ones who go on, and change because of what has happened to them.”  Jack looked at the troubled girl, and couldn’t help but think of his own daughter, Elizabeth.  She had gone through several crises in her life, and, luckily, she’d allowed him to help.  Jack only prayed that Shannon would do the same for Nora.

 

“But you don’t understand,” Shannon said.  “I let everyone down.  I let Aunt Nora down.  I let myself down.  I was so stupid to think I could make it on my own!”  She hid her face in her hands and started to cry.

 

Nora came over to her and put her hand on her back.  “Shannon, you haven’t let me down.  I’ll always be there for you.  Just please let me know where you are, and don’t run away again.”

 

Shannon cried harder.  She got up, and Nora hugged her.  “Please, dear, tell me how all this started, and we’ll do something about it to make it right.”

 

Shannon broke away from Nora and paced the floor.  “It started about a month into the semester.  That’s when I realized that some of the courses I was taking were too advanced.  Especially the math and chemistry classes.  I had started making friends, but they all had plenty of time to hang out and get their assignments done, too.  I just didn’t have the time….and I was too ashamed to ask them for help.  I knew they’d think I was stupid, and didn’t belong there.  So I – I stopped seeing them.  But the work didn’t get easier.  It got harder.  And when I flunked two quizzes in one day, I just freaked out.  I  sort of froze.  I spent a lot of time in the library, reading old newspapers and art books.  I had so wanted to fit in, to belong, and do it on my own, but –“

 

“You did go to a counsellor,” Nora said.  “That was a good choice.”

 

Shannon looked at her.  “You really have been checking up on me, haven’t you?  I went—once.  I was feeling very bad that day, and when the counsellor asked me to write out my feelings, I sort of got carried away.  I blamed all of this on you, and then sketched a very gorey ending for myself.”  She looked at Nora.  “I hope that Jennifer didn’t tell you any of the details of what happened.”

 

“No, she didn’t,” Nora lied.  “But why didn’t you go back, dear?”

 

“I don’t know,” Shannon said.  “I guess it was because I was afraid.  Afraid to take on the responsibility for my life just then.  It was easier to hide.  I thought about going out and getting royally drunk, but you know I hate the taste of liquor.  I thought about drugs, but what good would that do?  It would just eat away at my small amount of savings.  Finally, I realized I’d had it, and packed up and came back to the City.  I roamed around for days, staying at the Y and trying to figure out what to do.  Then I ran into Carla, and she convinced me to come here.”  She looked at Nora.  “I’ve not been bumming off her, either.  I got a job at a café a couple of blocks from here, and I’ve been able to pay her some of the rent money.  And I get to take home leftover food, so we’ve not been starving.”

 

Nora looked at Shannon with respect.  “You know, for someone who thinks they’ve made a mess of things, you’ve handled it pretty well.  You found shelter, and then a job.  You haven’t hidden behind drugs.    You’ve got a loyal and true friend who really cares for you.  And you have an aunt who is proud of you.”

 

This caused Shannon to cry again.  When she subsided, Nora helped her back down in the chair.  “Now, the question is, what do you want to do next?”

 

“Next?” Shannon looked at Nora through watery eyes.

 

“Yes,” Nora said.  “You’ve created a life for yourself here.  Do you want to continue it?”

 

“Well—I thought that you’d want me to—“ Shannon began.

 

Nora held up a hand.  “It’s not what I want or don’t want,” she said.  “It’s what you want to do now.  It’s your life, not mine.  But whatever you decide, you’ll have my full support and blessing.”

 

Shannon looked at Nora.  “You mean that, you really do,” she said.  Suddenly, she stood up.  “I need to get Carla in here,” she said, and left the room.

 

Jack looked at Nora anxiously; Nora only watched and waited for her niece’s return.  Shannon returned with Carla a few minutes later.

 

“Carla, Aunt Nora, this is what I’d like to do, if it’s okay with you.”  She looked from friend to aunt.  “I’d like to stay here with Carla, and work at the café—until the start of the next semester.  Then I’d like to start at City College, if you think they won’t hold my dismal record against me.”

 

“All you can do is write and find out,” Nora said.  “Try NYU, while you’re at it.  Let’s see if we can’t do a simple transfer.”

 

“Thank you, Aunt Nora!” Shannon cried, hugging her aunt tightly. “It’s time for me to go on duty at the café, if you’d like to come and eat an early supper—you and Mr. McCoy.”

 

“We’d like that very much, “ Jack said.  Smiling, Shannon accompanied them to the car.

 

The café was a little eatery offering typical American food.  Jack and Nora ate the limp salad and greasy hamburgers with smiles on their faces.  Shannon was very pleased at their reaction; she was the only waitress on duty at that early hour, but she handled her few customers quickly and efficiently.  She beamed when both Jack and Nora complimented her on a job well done.

 

“My stomach won’t forgive me for a while for eating all that grease,” Nora said as she got into the car, “but it was worth it to make Shannon happy.”

 

“You handled it all well, Nor,” Jack said as they got in.  “You let her know she can still fly, that her wings aren’t clipped.”

 

“I’m just glad that she didn’t get on drugs or start drinking like a fish,” Nora said exhaustedly.

 

“Not one of the better life choices,” Jack said quietly as he pulled away from the curb.

 

“Oh Jack!  I’m sorry to have brought that up!” Nora cried.

 

Jack smiled sadly.  “It’s good to see a teenager who has more sense than I did those many years ago.”  He drove on in silence.  “We’ll be back at Hogan Place in no time.”

 

True to his word, in a few minutes Jack pulled into the parking garage.  Nora got out, and Jack made sure the car was locked before handing the keys to her.

 

“Thanks for being there with me, Jack,” Nora said, reaching up and kissing him on the cheek.  “I don’t think I’d have found out the truth without you.”

 

Jack just smiled and put his arm around her as they walked towards the elevator.  They didn’t know that Murial Hopkins was on the other side of the garage, getting into her car.  She stopped as she watched Nora kiss Jack, and raised her brows.  “Maybe there is truth to that rumor after all,” she said to herself as she watched them walk to the elevator.

 

“So, Serena, what have you found?” Jack asked as he came into his office and took off his coat.

 

“The evidence collected by the police is compelling, though I have some questions to ask them—I’ve noted them in the margin,” Serena said.

 

“Good job,” Jack said, taking the file from her and studying it.  The two worked until well after dark. Jack looked at the clock, and said,  “Since it’s nearly seven, why don’t you take off?”

 

“If you need me to stay and help you finish going through the financial records—“Serena began.

 

Jack shook his head.  “No need.  It won’t take that long.”  He waved her away.  “Go on home.”

 

He continued working.  He stood up and carried the papers over to the couch, where he lay down.  Just a few more records, to make sure…

 

He was awakened by a gentle shaking.  Blinking, he looked up into Nora’s smiling face.

 

“Jack, I think you were due home a long time ago,” she said softly.

 

Groggily, Jack sat up.  As he did, the papers scattered all over the floor.  “Damn!” he muttered.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get them.”  Nora stooped down and retrieved the papers, which she put in Jack’s lap.  “Did you find anything interesting?”

 

“Yes,” Jack said.  “I think Monroe had created a dummy corporation, where he funnelled money from his extortion racket.”

 

“Money laundering,” Nora nodded.  “Is the corporation tied to any members of organized crime?”

 

“I’m not sure,” Jack said as he fumbled through the papers.  Nora sat down beside him and looked over the notes he had made before he fell asleep.

 

“Is the name of the corporation Exron?” she asked.  “That’s the same name we’ve found being used by some of the Gambini crime family.”

 

“Close,” Jack said, pointing to the name.  “Axron, with headquarters in the Caymen Islands.  Nice little tax haven for the rich and crooked.”

 

“And well worth looking into—did you need me, Greg?”  Nora turned, and saw Greg Morgan standing in the doorway.

 

“No,” he said, staring at the two of them on the couch.  “I was—just leaving, and heard voices down here.  I thought I was the only night owl.”

 

“Not tonight,” Nora laughed.  “I was going home when I noticed Jack’s lights on.  When I came in, he was sound asleep on his couch.  I came in to wake him up, and now he’s got me interested in his case.”

 

“Well, don’t stay here all night, you two,” Morgan said, and left.

 

Jack waited until he heard the elevator come.  “You know, Greg didn’t buy your story at all, Nora.”

 

Nora looked at him.  “What do you mean, story?  It was the truth!  You’re just mad because I told him I caught you sleeping!”

 

Jack shook his head.  “My innocent, sweet boss!  You don’t know the ways of the world—or of this office, at least.  In case you’ve forgotten, I have a reputation around here.”

 

Nora looked into his eyes.  “I know, but all that happened years ago.”

 

Jack took his hand in hers.  “A reputation takes years to live down, Nor.”

 

“The only reputation I care about at the office is your penchant for late night hours,” Nora replied stoutly.  She stood up.  “And before I get lured into staying any later, I’m leaving.  I suggest you do the same.”

 

“All right,” Jack said.  He stood up, too.  “Will you wait for me?  We can go down the elevator together.”

 

“Sure,” Nora said as Jack moved to his clothes rack.  “Though I’m surprised you still ride that motorcycle.”

 

“It’s not the same one I had—back then,” Jack said as he rolled down his sleeves and buttoned them.  He walked over and closed the door to the hall.  He then opened the door that led to Nora’s office and stood behind it as he changed from trousers to jeans, much to Nora’s amusement.  “But motorcycles are less polluting, and use less gas, than most cars.  I’ve never had a wreck.”  He shut the door and put his trousers on the hanger.  “I’ll just get my jacket and helmet—“

 

“And we’ll take a leisurely walk to the elevator,” Nora said.  “Just like the walks we took in the old days.”

 

Jack sighed.  “Those were younger, simpler times,” he said. “We’ve both lived a lot since then.  But somehow, you have kept that sweet quality that I love so.”

 

Nora looked at him, and shyly put her arm around him.  They waited until the elevator came, and got on.  They were the only ones there, and Nora was content to keep  holding onto Jack, who smiled down at her.  Only when the elevator doors opened did they part.

 

January finally left, with one more blast of wintry weather.  February dawned bright but cold.  Jack had worked hard on the Monroe case, and was able to make a plea bargain—a lighter sentence and witness protection for Monroe in exchange for testamony about the Gambini family’s ties to his money laundering scheme.  Even the Feds were pleased with the outcome, and Nora smiled triumphantly when they left.

 

“Always nice to foster good relations with the Feds,” she told Jack.  “And the headlines about another white collar perp in jail burnishes my image.”

 

Jack looked at her quizzically.  “Why, Nora Lewin, it sounds as if you are running for office!”

 

Nora blushed slightly.  “I’m thinking about it,” she said finally.  “This place has really grown on me.  The excitement.  The challenges.  I’m  afraid teaching law is a pale imitation of actually practicing it.”

 

Jack went over to her, placing his hand on hers.  “I’m glad, I really am,” he said.  “You know, when you first started here, I was sure you didn’t like it, but I really liked having you around.   There now, that sounds like I’m sucking up to the boss. “  He patted her hand. 

 

“Not that I mind,” Nora smiled.  Since the day Nora found Shannon, she and Jack had been seeing each other, discreetly.  They would go to small restaurants or take walks in Central Park. 

 

Their reverie was interrupted by Nora’s secretary, Stace, who came in hurriedly.

 

“Reggie Johnson needs to see you—now,” she said.

 

Jack said, “See you later, Nora,” and left by the back door.  Nora went behind her desk, and Stace escorted Johnson in.

 

“What can I do for you, Reggie?” Nora asked him.  Johnson was an up-and-comer in the frauds division, and one of the assistant district attorneys under Murial Hopkins.  “Are you finally ready for that gripe session you keep putting off?”

 

Reggie nodded, and flung himself on the couch.  “I know you thought I was ducking you, Nora, when it came to the gripe session thing,” he said.  “After all, the other ADAs in my department had had a private talk with you.  But—well, I’ve been wrestling with my conscience.”

 

Nora looked at him with concern.  “What do you mean?”

 

“I haven’t done anything illegal—or unethical,” Reggie was quick to say.  “But—well, I’ve been privy to some conversations among other members of your staff that come awfully close to the line.  At first, I thought it was just idle conversation, but I started checking around.  Now I’m sure of my facts, and I—“

 

Nora held up a hand.  “Before you go on and name names, tell me this.  Is this alleged misconduct something that needs to go to the courts?”

 

“No, but the Bar Association might want to know about it,” Reggie said darkly.  “They plan to accuse you—“

 

The color drained from Nora’s face.  “Then it isn’t ethical, it’s political,” she said finally.  “That is, unless they have discovered some sort of misconduct on my part.”

 

Reggie ran his fingers through his hair.  “They say you are displaying favoritism towards one of the Executives.”  He looked at Nora earnestly.  “I’ve never seen any indication that you’ve treated one of the bosses better than another, but Murial—“

 

“Please.  No names.  I can guess.”  Nora sighed.  “Unfortunately, Reggie, political sniping is not included in the code of misconduct.  You could even say its par for the course.”

 

“I know,” Reggie said, “but this goes beyond regular backstabbing.  This is going for—scandal.”

 

Nora stood up.  “Thank you for drawing my attention to this matter,” she said formally.

 

Reggie looked at her.  “Is that all you’re going to do about it?” he asked.

 

“What else can I do?” Nora asked.  “If people are going to stoop to innuendo, there will always be people ready to believe them.  The louder I protest, the more people will believe there is something to it.”

 

“You may be right,” Reggie conceded.  “But – these people want to take the DA’s office away from you, you know.”

 

“I know,” Nora said quietly.  She looked at the young ADA.  “And I appreciate your support.  I plan to run this office—and my campaign—on the idea of justice for all.  If you ever feel that anyone—and that includes me—ever crosses the line, please let me know.”

 

With that, Johnson withdrew.  It wasn’t until the door closed that Nora slumped into her seat.  She’d been expecting something from Hopkins and Morgan, but she hadn’t expected this.  Sure, she’d heard some gripes from both of their staffs, but it wasn’t big stuff.  Jack’s staff had had no complaints—but then Feldman’s and Rivera’s staffs had also been equally content. 

 

Had she and Jack been seen together?  The only time she remembered was when Greg Morgan had seen them in Jack’s office.  She smiled ruefully, remembering Jack’s remarks about her innocence on matters of office gossip. 

 

It wasn’t fair, she thought, as she got up and started pacing the floor.  She and Jack had been friends, and were just resuming their friendship.  A few dinners, a few walks, hardly added up to an affair.  But she knew that Greg Morgan—and Murial Hopkins—were good at putting things in the worst possible light.  And it got on her nerves to realize that, from now on, she’d be self-conscious whenever she talked to Jack or was alone with him.

 

“It’s not fair,” she muttered, as she picked up a sheaf of papers from her desk and flung them to the floor.

 

“Looks like someone asked for the death penalty again.”

 

Nora turned, and saw Jack leaning against the doorjamb.  “No, it’s something—personal,” she said.

 

Jack came in, closing the door.  “Want to talk about it?”

 

“Not here.  Not now.  And it might be a good idea if you opened the door and let Stace know that I’m available for any more staff members who wish to speak to me.”

 

Jack looked at her steadily as he walked to the other side of the room and opened the door.  He gave Stace the message, and then walked over to Nora’s desk. 

 

“We got in a nasty case,” he said.  “A man bludgeoned his wife and daughter, placed them  in his car, which he rigged to explode.  But the explosives didn’t go off, and the victims were found.  The daughter is dead, but the wife is in the hospital.  The problem is she has partial amnesia and we don’t know how much of her ordeal she remembers.”

 

“Anyone see the husband assaulting his family, or putting them in the car?” Nora asked.

 

“We haven’t found anyone--yet,” Jack replied.  “The police just picked up the man—he was at a hotel with his girlfriend.  He’s screaming conspiracy, because he was a whistle blower at a big power trading company a few months back.”

 

“Well, make sure that the police check all the angles,” Nora said.  “And hope that the wife recovers her memory.”  She picked up the papers off the floor and went back to her desk, not looking up.  Jack stood there for a moment in silence, and then left.

 

Nora stayed busy the rest of the day, and didn’t see Jack until she got to the parking garage.  He was tinkering with his motorcycle.

 

“Plugged fuel line,” he said disgustedly.  “At least, I think that’s what’s wrong.  Now I’ve got to walk the thing to the garage.”

 

“Is it far?” Nora asked.

 

“Only about fourteen blocks,” Jack said morosely.  “But it’s better than paying a $50 tow bill.  Don’t worry, I’ll stay on the sidewalks.”  He kicked the stand and began pushing the bike towards the door.

 

“Want me to follow you?” Nora asked impulsively.  “Or meet you at the garage?  Then I can give you a lift home?”

 

Jack looked at her.  “I’d appreciate it—if it’s not too much trouble.”

 

Jack gave Nora the address of the garage and she went to her car.  She settled in, watching him walk his bike out onto the sidewalk.  Then she put her car into gear and headed for the place where Jack usually had his Yamaha repaired.

 

It was a clean shop, and the mechanic on duty gave Nora a cup of coffee as she waited for Jack to arrive.  He came about a half an hour later, and conferred with the mechanic, who nodded his head.  Then he came into the office.

 

“Thanks for the lift,” he said, as Nora got up.  He followed her out to her car, and got into the passenger seat.  It wasn’t until Nora had started off that he said, “Now, how about telling me what’s wrong?  It has to do with us, doesn’t it?”

 

Nora wasn’t quite sure what to say, and kept her eyes on the street. 

 

Jack leaned over and placed his hand on her arm.  “Nor, I know you.  You’ve been terribly shocked and hurt over something, and from the way you acted in the office, I’m involved with it.”

 

“Let’s drive—out to Long Island,” Nora said, and headed for the Brooklyn Bridge.  They drove in silence until they were out past the city.  Nora found a turnoff, and parked.  She then turned to Jack, and said, “You know, you were right when you said people remembered your reputation.  Apparently Murial Hopkins—and Greg Morgan—have decided to capitalize on that incident in your office last month.”

 

Jack ran a hand through his hair.  “What are they saying?”

 

“I’m not sure, exactly.  Reggie Johnson wanted to tell me all, but I stopped him once I realized it was political.  But I gathered from the little I let him say that they plan to accuse me of favoritism—with you.”

 

“Ah.”  Jack leaned back in the seat.  He looked at Nora again.  “It is probably all due to the fact that so many of their ADAs had gripes,” he said.  He took her hand in his.  “After all, we haven’t done anything wrong.”

 

Nora looked at him.  “I know that, Jack.  But I can’t afford even the appearance of impropriety.  It will destroy all that I’ve tried to do in the DA’s office.”

 

Jack dropped her hand.  “Then you wish to stop seeing me,” he said sadly.

 

Nora looked at him with tears in her eyes.  “No, Jack, that’s not what my heart wants.  But right now, with the election primary coming up in May, I can’t afford—“

 

“I heard you the first time,” Jack said, turning and looking out the window.  “Very well, Nora.  I guess I’ll have to live with that.  But it’s going to be hard—damn hard.”

 

“I know, Jack, I know,” Nora murmured.  She tried touching his hand, but he moved away.  She drove back to the city with tears in her eyes.
 

She dropped Jack off at his apartment.  He got out of the car and strode to his door without a word of thanks.  She looked at his windows until she saw the lights go on, and then drove home.

 

Was the position of DA really worth it, she wondered to herself as she drove to her brownstone a few blocks uptown.  She felt, in her heart, that she had done a good job.  And, although there were some people in the City who could do as good a job, Murial Hopkins and Greg Morgan were not among them.

 

She went into work the next day, and busied herself with the details of maintaining the District Attorney’s office.  She met with ADAs, consulted with the Police Commissioner, and had a phone conversation with the mayor.  It wasn’t until the very end of the day that she realized Jack had not come by to see her once.  As she got ready to go, she hoped that the light would be on in his office, but it was not.  Sighing, she went to elevator.

 

While she was waiting, she was joined by Ramon Rivera, who was lugging a bulging briefcase.

 

“You’re going to pull out a shoulder, taking that much work home,” Nora told him.

 

“Yeah, but I’d rather be close to my family while I work on this stuff,” Ramon said.  “Just hearing their voices as Maria gets the kids ready for bed makes me remember what life’s all about.”

 

“You’re very lucky, to have such a good family,” Nora said.  The elevator doors opened, and they got in.

 

“Strong family ties are the key to staying out of trouble,” Ramon said.  “My Uncle Joe, he’s been a role model for me and the rest of the family.”

 

“And you are carrying on the tradition,” Nora said.

 

Ramon grinned.  “Keep buttering me up, and you’ll have me working on your campaign,” he said.

 

Nora smiled.  “I’ll accept any help you’d be willing to give,” she said, “as long as it doesn’t take away from work or family.”

 

Ramon looked at her.  “You know, Nora, I like you, and the way you’ve run the office.  Letting me go with the alternative sentencing program for first offenders—well, it’s a dream come true.  And I like how you have kept up with the ADAs and their gripes.”

 

“And you probably know there were no gripes from your section,” Nora said.

 

“I figured as much, since I hadn’t been given a talking to,” Ramon said.  “But—not to be speaking behind someone’s back—“

 

“I know there is discontent among some,” Nora said.  “People have been trying to give me details, but I feel that if someone is unhappy, they need to come to me so we can clear the air.  I won’t relay on hearsay evidence.”

 

“On that, I would agree, “ Ramon conceded, “if it was only an office problem.  But I think the discontent, as you call it, is more political in nature.  That’s why I offer my services.”

 

Nora shook her head.  “I don’t want someone to spy for me,” she said.  “In my mind, that is unethical.”

 

“Having someone with their ear to the ground is not unethical—it’s good politics,” Ramon argued.  “Anyway, I’m not interested in repeating gossip.  But I am interested in keeping a smear campaign from starting.”

 

Nora sighed.  “Thank you, Ramon,” she said.  “But I believe the best thing you can do to help me  is to do your job well.  Then I look good.  When it comes closer to May, I’ll be calling on you to talk to your friends about my candidacy—maybe even arrange a speaking engagement or two.”

 

The elevator doors opened, and they stepped out.  Ramon looked at her, and said, “Sure, Nora, I’ll be glad to do that.  But don’t stay in denial too long—their plan is ugly, and you need to know the details so you can be prepared.”  He looked at her carefully.  “You have my number, whenever you want to talk.” 

 

Nora tried to stem the feeling of paranoia that was gripping her as she went to her car.  If Ramon Rivera had heard what was going on, the smear campaign had already begun. Unless he was part of the conspiracy, too, hoping to get her to drop out of the race.  She shook her head.  Ramon Rivera was a straight shooter.  No, Ramon had just gotten wind of what was going on, probably because Hopkins and Morgan wanted to enlist some of the minority EADAs in their smear campaign.  But the more she thought about it, the less sure she became. 

 

By the time she reached home, she had a splitting headache.  She took two pain pills and sat down on the couch in her darkened living room.  Impulsively, she picked up her phone and dialed the number.

 

“Hello?”  Jack’s familiar voice was soothing.

 

“Jack, it’s Nora,” she said, and paused.  There was silence on the other end of the line.  “Jack, something’s happened, and I need your help.”

 

More silence.  And then Jack said, “I thought you decided the best way I could help was to stay out of your life.”

 

“That’s not what I meant, “Nora said, “and I’m sorry that you took it that way.”  She paused.  “I missed you today.”

 

“I thought I did a pretty good job staying out of your hair,”  Jack said formally.

 

“Jack, please don’t talk that way!” Nora cried.  “I know you are hurt, but please forgive me!  Please!  I need your help!”

 

Another silence.  Then Nora heard a sigh, and Jack said tenderly, “You’re sitting in the living room with your lights out, aren’t you?  You don’t need to answer, Nor, I know you.  Your way of handling a dilemma is staying in the dark, hoping it will go away.”

 

Nora felt the tears trickle down her cheeks at the sound of Jack’s voice.  “I am just a foolish old woman,” she said.  “Yes, Jack, I need you.  I need your advice, and I need your comfort.”

 

“Foolish old woman?  I don’t think so,” Jack said.  “What has happened?  I’ll see what I can do to help.”

 

“I met Ramon Rivera at the elevator tonight, and he told me that he wanted to help with my campaign, starting with warning me about a smear campaign.  I told him I didn’t want details, and he again warned me that the campaign was going to get ugly, and that I should be prepared.   I became paranoid, and wondered if maybe he had joined Hopkins and Morgan in a conspiracy.  But if he isn’t, I really need to know what is going on—“

 

“Take a breath, Nor, and wind down,” Jack advised.  “Think about this.  You have had two different assistants come to you, offering information.  Find out from Ramon what he knows, and then talk with Alverez in the morning.”

 

“Of course!” Nora breathed a sigh of relief.  “Why couldn’t I see that was the way to find the truth?”

 

“Because you were blinded by your fear,” Jack said.  He paused.  “You’ll let me know what you find out?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Good.  I hope you’ll let me help you plan your strategy for dealing with this.”

 

“I wish you were here,” Nora said impulsively. 

 

“Call and find out what Ramon knows,” Jack replied. 

 

“All right.  I’ll call you back,” Nora promised.    She took a deep breath, and then dialed Rivera’s number.  A child answered, and wasn’t sure if Daddy could come to the phone, and then Ramon was there.

 

“Sorry about that.  Sheila is still learning telephone manners,” he said.  “I’ll go into the study and we can talk from there.”

 

“I don’t want to take you away from your girls,” Nora said.

 

“No problem, its bathtime anyway.  I’ll have a good twenty minutes before its time for me to tuck them in and read them their bedtime story.”  Nora heard him order the children to go with their mother, and then he was back.

 

“I’m glad you decided to call,” he said.  “You want it all, I suppose?”

 

“From the beginning,” Nora said.

 

“It’ll be short and sweet,” Ramon promised.  “Even before Adam resigned, Greg Morgan has had his eye on the DA’s chair.  Murial Hopkins equals him in ambition, even though they are on opposite sides of the political fence.  They have gotten together to try and knock you out of the field.  They feel they both will have a better chance at winning the job if there is no incumbent.”

 

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Nora murmured.

 

“Exactly,” Ramon said.  “Frankly, if it had been merely a matter of Adam stepping down and there being an open position, I’d have enjoyed watching those two duke it out.  But I won’t have them undermine the integrity of this office through rumors and innuendo.”

 

Nora sighed.  “Get on with it,” she said.

 

“Well, Murial and Greg have both been quoted as being less than pleased with your ADA gripe sessions.  They have rather loudly denounced the concept, saying you have said the only complaints came from ADAs in their departments.”

 

“Not true, but the other EADAs are more discreet,” Nora said.  “And I’ve not spoken to anyone about the complaints except the persons involved.”

 

“I thought as much,” Ramon said.  He paused.  “Well, according to the rumor mill, you picked on Greg because his political stance is different than yours.  Murial says that the reason you pick on her is that she saw you and Jack McCoy making out in the parking garage.”

 

“What?”  Nora was astonished

 

“That was my first response, too,” Ramon said.  “But apparently Murial thinks she’s got some corroberation.  This supposedly took place one day in Janary when you and Jack left out of the office early on a mysterious errand.  And later that evening, Greg Morgan said he saw you arm in arm on Jack’s couch.”

 

Nora laughed.  “Ok, this is for the record.  Jack and I did leave early—to visit my neice, who had dropped out of college and taken a job.  He helped me persuade her to give school another chance.  I was so grateful for his help that, when we got to the parking garage, I gave him a kiss on the cheek.  That evening, on the way home, I noticed Jack’s light was on.  I went into his office and found him asleep.  When I woke him up, he dropped papers on the floor.  I sat down beside him to help him straighten them up.  And the door was open the whole time—that’s the only reason Greg saw anything!  If I had wanted to fool around with Jack, I’d have sense enough to shut the door!”

 

“I thought so,” Ramon said.  He paused.  “But Murial goes on to say that you and Jack are old friends.”

 

“So we are,” Nora said.  “We knew each other when we were both in law school.”

 

“—and that you had some sort of affair, which is continuing to this day.  And that, because of your affections for Jack, you are biased towards him and all those who work under him.” Ramon sounded almost apologetic.  “I know it sounds stupid, but that’s what she is saying.  She wants to make it seem that you are playing favorites.”

 

“I see.”  Nora, who had started to feel relieved, felt her hands go cold.  “Well, you now know the truth about what happened in the garage and in Jack’s office.  If this were told, do you think people would believe this other accusation or see it for the lie that it is?”

 

“Your supporters already know it is a lie,” Ramon said stoutly.  “But, if you like, I’ll let people know what really happened—“

 

“No, I’ll handle it in my own way,” Nora said crisply.  “Is there anything else that I need to know?”

 

“No.  At least, not now.  I’ll let you know if I find out anything else,” Ramon said.

 

“Thank you,” Nora said, and hung up.  She stared into the darkness for some time before picking up the phone and calling Jack.

 

“Sounds like you’ve already decided what to do,” he said when she was through with her recitation of her talk with Ramon Rivera.

 

“I lied to him, in one way, though,” Nora said.  “They accuse us of having had an affair, and I didn’t own up to it.”

 

“Ancient history, and none of their business,” Jack said.

 

“It is if the affair is continuing,” Nora said.

 

“Do you want it to continue?” Jack asked softly.

 

“You already know the answer,” she replied. 

 

Jack sighed, and held the phone to his heart for a moment before continuing the conversation.  “Then you know that it will be impossible for us to – be close right now.”

 

“I know,” Nora whispered sadly. 

 

“But we can still talk at work.  I think it will be really important that we keep up our professional relationship as we have done before.  As for the dinners and the walks—well, the phone may be a poor substitute, but we can still call each other.”  He paused, then whispered, “I love you, Nor.”

 

Nora clutched her phone tighter.  “And I love you too, Jack,” she whispered back.

 

The next day, Nora walked down to Murial’s office.  “I’ve finished all my sessions with your people, and I’d like to go over the results with you,” she said.  “I took the liberty of coming down here so that we can speak openly and frankly on your own turf.”

 

Murial looked at her.  “I’m not sure what you mean by my ‘own turf’.  All of us work for you, after all.”

 

“Correction,” Nora said.  “We all work for the people of New York County.  I think that is just one way you and I think differently about this office.”  She looked at her EADA sharply.  “And since I believe the people wish this office to be both efficient and effective, there are a few things I need to go over with you.  You don’t need to take notes; I think you’ll find the message short and simple.  You’ve got to start treating your assistants with more respect.  You’ve got to be supportive and instructive without destroying initiative and drive.”  She cocked her head and studied the firm line of Murial’s jaw as her EADA stared straight ahead.  “I take it you don’t like criticism.”

 

“I can handle it,” Murial said, her jaw still clenched.

 

“I certainly hope so,” Nora said, “because what I am telling you here, in private, is far milder than the criticism you may get if you choose to take a political course.”  She smiled at Murial’s surprise.  “I’ve heard you are interested in testing the waters.  The primary for DA is in May.  I suggest you have weekly staff meetings and one on one sessions with each member of your staff to see what you can do to instill a sense of teamwork.  If people don’t see you handling this department, they won’t be likely to vote for you to handle the whole office.”  Nora smiled and got up.  “I hope my words have been enlightening.”

 

“Indeed,” said Murial, still in shock.

 

Nora smiled and left.  She was glad she’d had another talk with Reggie Johnson earlier that morning.  Not only had he confirmed everything Rivera had said, he had gone on about the blatantly political way Murial had been handling cases, assigning the flashiest for herself and leaving her staff with the dregs.  Nora hoped her strategy worked.  If Murial focused on her staff, she would have no time for smearing Nora. 

 

Greg Morgan would have to be handled differently, Nora knew.  Greg was a user.  He’d flatter a person with attention if he thought there was something he could get out of the relationship.  Once he felt there was nothing to gain, he’d drop the person like a stone.  Since he realized the importance of appearing to have a well-run department, he’d treated his staff better than Murial, though there were still gripes, mostly from senior members of his staff who were on to his little game and knew that he wanted to recruit them all as campaign workers once the primary season kicked off.

 

Nora went by Greg’s office, but he wasn’t there.  She walked down to the conference room, where, she saw, he was busy prepping a witness.  She smiled and nodded, and went on back to her office.  She knew Morgan would be there within fifteen minutes.

 

He made it in twelve.

 

“You wanted to see me?” he asked, sitting down on the couch and leaning back.  “Whew!  Long day already, what with the examinations in the Collins trial starting tomorrow.”

 

“I appreciate you taking the time,” Nora said quietly.  Morgan ignored the irony and smiled at her.  “I believe we already had our chat about your assistants.  I’m following up.  Have you made sure to keep in touch with your senior staff?”

 

“Yes.”  Morgan’s smile was frozen to his face, but his eyes were wary.

 

“Good.  Because I would hate to find out that any cases were assigned according to an assistant’s political doctrine.  That would be favoritism, which we can’t have.”

 

“Sure, Nora,” Morgan said self-righteously.  “Personally, I find favoritism repugnant, and not a part of this office.”

 

“Spoken like a line from his first campaign speech,” Nora told Jack later that afternoon.  She squared her shoulders.  “Well, I felt it important that I give them a chance to talk with me privately before the Executive’s Meeting this afternoon.”  She turned to Jack.  “Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”

 

Jack nodded.  “It might not be politically expedient, but it was the right thing to do.  As for what you explain at the meeting, well….”He shrugged, then looked into her eyes.  “Just know that, no matter what, I’m here for you, Nor.”

 

Nora smiled slightly.  “Well then, it’s only a matter of time before the battle begins.”

 

That afternoon, Nora went through the regular agenda of the Executive’s Committee without incident.  Then she said, “I have one more matter to discuss with you all before adjournment.  It is a matter that pains me a bit, but I must clear the air.  As you all know, I have completed my sessions with each of the ADAs in all your departments.  I have met with each of you privately, discussing any complaints or suggestions for improvements that came from the ranks.  I thought that would be as far as it went.”  She cocked her head and looked at each EADA in turn.  “It hurts me to say it, but some of you have been complaining about me—and this evaluation procedure—behind my back.  And I have been accused of favoritism when it came to these evaluations.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  The evaluations came from your staffs—I was merely their messenger.  And those with larger staffs were more likely to have gripes than those with smaller staffs—it’s a simple matter of arithmetic.  I was hoping that any of you who had matters of complaint with me would feel comfortable enough to approach me on the subject,  but this apparently hasn’t happened in every case.  Therefore, I have decided to ask my friend Rudolph Guliani to act as an intermediary for me.  If you have any complaints about me or the way I run this office, you may call our former Mayor and tell him about it.  He will, in turn, tell me, much as I told you the gripes of your ADAs.”  She looked around the room again.  “I hope that this will make the running of this office smoother and more efficient.  Thank you for your time.”

 

Greg Morgan and Murial Hopkins were the first out the door.  A couple of African American EADAs came up to Nora with some questions about upcoming cases.  When they left, Simon Feldman was there.

 

“Walk you back to your office, Boss?” he asked.

 

“Sure, if you don’t mind being accused of being the teacher’s pet,” Nora smiled.

 

“Very clever, the way you handled that,” Simon said.  “Rudy may not be Mayor anymore, but he’s still a power in this town.  Now, I know that my two assistants said nothing but nice things about me, but then I made sure to go to their children’s First Communion.”  He smiled at the memory.  “Had that priest wondering when I showed up with my yalmuka.  But you know, I have a feeling that a couple of my colleagues are not as nice or as apolitical as me.”  He gave Nora a knowing nod.  “You’ve stopped them temporarily, but just temporarily.  Wait until spring, and then be on your guard.”

 

“Pretty sage political advice from someone who is apolitical,” Nora said, amused.

 

Simon shrugged.  “Experience,” he said.  He smiled and left her at her office door.

 

Nora went inside, only to find Jack seated on the couch, grinning. 

 

“I did that well?” she asked.

 

“More than well,” Jack said.  “I watched their faces as you made your speech.  Greg Morgan was especially crestfallen when you mentioned Guilani.  I know he was going to try and get support from him.”

 

“Well, he won’t now, if he goes to Rudy with tales of our wild affair,” Nora said.  “The Mayor knows better.”

 

“That said, how about going out for a bite to eat in celebration?” Jack asked.

 

Nora looked at him sadly.  “Much as I’d like to, this is not the time or place, Jack.”

 

Jack looked at the floor.  “Yeah, you’re right,” he said quietly.  He got up to go.  “It was a good speech, though.  See you tomorrow.”

 

Although February is the shortest month, it seemed to drag on and on.  The office of the DA ran smoothly—well, as smoothly as any district attorney’s office can run in a big city.  Crimes of passion, cold blooded killings, and drug busts were all tried in the courts, and Nora’s staff got their fair share of convictions.  No EADA ever talked with Rudy Guiliani. 

 

Nora found a large bouquet of red roses on her desk for Valentine’s Day, but there was no card.  She stood, looking at them, for some time, oblivious to the smiles of her secretary, Stace, and passing attorneys.  She finally broke from her reverie and went to look for Jack, but he was at court.  She had to go to a meeting at City Hall, and didn’t see him the rest of the day.

 

That night, she phoned him as soon as she got home.  “Thanks for the roses, Jack,” she said.

 

“Roses?  Did you get flowers today, Nor?” Jack asked in a teasing tone.

 

“You know I did,” Nora answered.  “I only wish you could have been there to see the smile on my face.”

 

“I thought they might make you feel good,” Jack conceded.  He paused.  “It’s getting hard, just talking on the phone to you, Nor.  Don’t you think that tonight, of all nights, we could go out?  Nothing fancy, just to that little Lebanese place where no one knows us.”  He paused again, and then whispered, “I love you.”

 

“I know.”  Nora struggled with conflicting emotions.  Finally, she said, “All right, Jack.  I’ll meet you there—say an hour?”

 

“I’ll be there,” Jack said.  Nora smiled at the happiness in his voice.

 

She dressed casually, and took a cab to the restaurant, telling the cabbie how good the hummus and tabouli was there.  She felt a bit self-conscious as she talked on and on about the food; it was not like her.  But she felt guilty, because she realized she was creating an alibi for herself if anyone saw her with Jack.  Finally, she sighed and lapsed into silence.  There was no reason why she couldn’t have gone with Jack to the restaurant, no reason except a political one.  She shook off her gloom; she’d be happy tonight, for Jack’s sake.

 

She took a table near the window, where she knew Jack would see her.  She ordered a mango drink and sipped it, waiting for him to come.  Ten minutes.  Fifteen.  She ordered some hummus and pita bread, and kept waiting.  Twenty.  Twenty five.  Something was wrong, very wrong.  She got up and went to the ladies’ room, where she got out her cell phone and dialed his number.  There was no answer.  She went back to her table, where she asked for her check.  She was just paying it when her pager beeped.  She took one look at the number, and then called it immediately. 

 

“Van Buren,” the voice said on the other end of the line.

 

“This is Nora Lewin, Lieutenant,” Nora said.  “What is the matter?”

 

“I know it’s a bit unusual to call you,” Anita Van Buren said, “but I thought you’d want to be the first to know.  Jack McCoy was involved in a traffic accident, and he’s at  Mercy Hospital.”

 

Nora gasped.  “H-how is he?” she managed to say.

 

“I’m not sure,” Anita replied.  “Two of my uniforms took the call; they know McCoy and called me about it right away, and I got in touch with you.”

 

“You did the right thing,” Nora said.  “I’ll be at the hospital as soon as I can.”

 

The restaurant owner, who had heard the conversation, told her, “Go outside.  My cousin, he’s a cab driver, and he’s on his way.  I heard the word ‘hospital’, so I know it must be serious.”

 

Nora thanked him and walked outside without buttoning her coat or putting on her hat.  If only—if only—

 

She flew out of the cab the minute it got under the canopy for the emergency room.  She went up to one of the doctors and asked, “Where is Jack McCoy?”

 

The doctor looked at her.  “Accident victim, white male in the middle fifties?”

 

“Yes, that’s him,” Nora said.

 

“You the next of kin?”

 

“No—his boss,” she said impatiently.

 

“Well, we wait for next of kin,” the doctor said.  “If you’ll just sit down over there—“

 

Nora ignored him and went up to the charge desk.  “I’m Nora Lewin, and I’m a friend of Jack McCoy.  I can get in touch with his next of kin, but I need to know what to tell them.  How is he?”

 

“McCoy, McCoy….oh yeah, came in about an hour ago.  Cab he was riding in slid on some ice, ran head-on into another cab.  He’s sustained a minor concussion, with some cuts and bruises.  He’s been sent upstairs to spend the night – just to be sure.”

 

“Thanks,” Nora said.  She got out her phone and called Van Buren.  “I need your help,” she said.  “Jack has been hospitalized with a concussion, and I need the number of his brother, Mike.  He lives on 35^th Street.  Could you look it up for me?”

 

“Sure,” Anita said.  “Want me to call him?”

 

“I’d rather,” Nora said.  “Here’s my cell number—call me back as soon as you get it.  Thanks.”  She paced the floor, waiting for the call.

 

“Here it is,” Van Buren said.  She paused, then added, “I didn’t know you knew the next of kin of your Executives.  I’m impressed.”

 

“Thank you,” Nora said, hanging up and dialing Mike McCoy’s number.

 

“Nora Lewin!” Mike’s voice sounded like a deeper version of Jack’s.  “It’s been years!  How are you and my big brother getting along, working together?”

 

“Mike, Jack’s been in an accident, and he’s at Mercy Hospital,” Nora said.  “It’s a concussion, and they think he’ll be all right, but I thought you’d want to know.”

 

“Nora, you haven’t changed,” Mike said.  “Always thoughtful and concerned.  Why my brother didn’t marry you when he had the chance is still a mystery to me.  I’ll be down there right away.”

 

With Mike by her side, Nora went upstairs to the room where Jack lay.  His head was swathed in bandages, and he was asleep.  Nora looked at him and gasped.  Mike came up and steadied her.

 

“Hey, Dad always said he had the thickest head of the bunch, “ he said.  “Jack will be all right.”

 

“But they didn’t tell me he’d gotten that big cut on his arm,” Nora said, her voice rising, “or that big bruise on his face, or—“  She turned and cried in Mike’s arms.

 

He patted her on the back.  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you still cared for the lug,” he said.  “Nora, he’ll be all right.  The nurses say he needs his rest, and we can see him in the morning.”

 

“Yes, I know,” Nora sighed.  She took one last lingering look at Jack before she and Mike left.

 

Jack McCoy woke with a splitting headache.  He couldn’t remember where he was.  And then he looked down at the foot of the bed and saw Nora, sound asleep, on a chair.

 

“Nor?” he called, amazed at the huskiness of his own voice.  Nora stirred.  Then, seeing that he was awake, she ran to his side and took his hand.

 

“Jack!” she cried.  “How do you feel?”

 

“Wonderfully lousy,” he said.  “Lousy because it feels like an elephant tap danced on my skull, and wonderful because you are here.  But where exactly are we?”

 

“Mercy Hospital,” Nora said.  “Your cab hit a patch of ice, and crashed.”

 

“That accounts for all this,” Jack said as he studied his arms and felt the bandage on his head.  “But you weren’t involved with the accident, were you?”

 

“No, I was waiting for you at the restaurant when I got the call—oh Jack, I’m sorry!”  Tears welled up in Nora’s eyes as she looked down at him.

 

“I’m sorry, too,” Jack said.  “I should’ve taken the motorcycle instead of relying on a taxi.”  He touched her cheek.  “Hey, hey, no need for weeping.  I feel bad, but it’s not terminal, is it?”

 

Nora laughed in spite of herself.  “No, but it’s a concussion, and you’re to stay here for the day, under observation.”

 

“Looks like you spent the night,” Jack said.  “What in the world made you do that?”

 

“Well, when your brother Mike left last night, I knew I couldn’t leave you here alone,” Nora said.

 

It was Jack’s turn to chuckle.  “I don’t think the staff here would care for that remark,” he said.

 

“You know what I mean,” Nora said.  “Anyway, I came back and camped out in the chair.  The nurses were understanding.”

 

“I’m glad of that,” Jack said.  “And Mike came to see me?”

 

“Yes, I called him as soon as I found out your condition,” Nora said.  “He’ll be back to see you today.”

 

“Then you get home and get ready for work, Nor.  I’ll be in good company.”

 

“But Jack, it was my fault you had the accident!” Nora cried.  “If only I hadn’t insisted on us being so circumspect—“

 

“I think the accident was caused by a patch of ice,” Jack said.  “And if we’d taken a cab together, we’d both be in the hospital.”  He looked up at Nora.  “I’m ok, Nor, really I am.  The doctors will look after me, and if they don’t, Mike will set them straight.”  He took her hand and squeezed it.  “Go.  You’ll have to keep Serena on track until I return.”

 

  Nora was distracted most of the day.  Stace had to remind her of all her meetings, and she had to rely on notes to remember what they were about.  Serena and the senior staff knew, of course, that Jack had been in an accident, and all took it for granted that Nora had gone to see him; Adam would have done the same.  But to Nora, all the sympathetic looks and questions about Jack’s condition just made matters worse.  She felt guilty about the accident and guilty about her feelings toward Jack.

 

“It’s just not fair,” she muttered to herself as the day wound down.

 

“I thought that’s what we’re here for,” Simon Feldman said as he came into the room.  “To right the wrongs, and make things fair again for the people of New York.”

 

“New York County,” Nora corrected.  “That’s as far as our jurisdiction goes.”

 

Simon smiled.  “Spoken like a true politician,” he said.  “Forget about the other four boroughs.  Well, that’s fine with me.  We seem to find enough troubles to keep us busy right here on Manhattan Island.”

 

“Troubles.  That’s right,” Nora said.  She stood up.  “Would you like to have some tea?  I was just going to ask Stace to make me some.”

 

“Tea sounds delightful, since its too early for Scotch,” Simon said.  He settled down on the couch.  “Looks like you’ve been through some troubles yourself today.”

 

“All the problem of teaching ethics in law school for twenty-one years,” Nora said as she came back from talking with her secretary.  “Sometimes I think that being an ethical politician is an oxymoron.”

 

“Well, since most politicians I know are morons, I take it that they don’t have the brains to be ethical,” Simon said.  “Present company excepted, of course.”

 

“Thank you,” Nora said as her secretary brought in the cups of tea.  She took a sip and looked at Simon.  “You’ve been here longer than anyone else, I believe.”

 

“Yes, I even predate Adam,” Simon chuckled.  “That gets a rise out of my new assistants now that Adam Schiff is gone.”  He leaned over and looked at Nora.  “So what do you want to know about this office?  I’ll help if I can, as long as you don’t try to involve me in your campaign.  I hate passing out literature and buttons.”

 

“I wouldn’t dream of asking you,” Nora assured him.  She sighed.  “I do have a question, and it’s about Jack McCoy.”

 

“A hard worker, ambitious to reach the top,” Simon said.  “Though since he’s been here, I think he’s mellowed some.”

 

“What about his—reputation?”

 

“I take it you are not referring to his professional one,” Simon said as he took a sip of tea.  He sat the cup down on the end table and leaned back on the couch.  “Frankly, I think Jack is married to his job.  Women—well, there was always something about Jack and women.  I remember when he first came here, long haired and full of protest over Viet Nam.  He had a fire that Adam liked, and the women liked, too.  He had his pick for dates, but he buried himself in work.  Funny, it was almost as if he were trying to forget something—or someone.  Then he got his first promotion, and his first assistant.  Their affair was very torrid, and the only reason I think Adam put up with it was because it didn’t seem to interfere with their work.  And anyway, by the time Adam knew, they were engaged to be married.  Lasted fourteen years.”

 

“Yes, I’ve seen the photograph of his daughter,” Nora said.  “What caused the breakup?”

 

“Incompatability, and Jack’s drinking, I think,” Simon said.  “Since this isn’t a court, I can submit all the hearsay evidence I want. Adam always had a fondness for Jack, and tended to look the other way after Jack’s divorce.  Jack  hid in the bottle for quite a while—and then Sally Bell came along.  And after her, Diana Hawthorne.  And then Claire Kincaid.”

 

“The others,” Nora said.

 

“I think Jack was looking for comfort, for solace—at least from the first two.  Claire was a different story.  They fought a lot over important issues, like the death penalty, but I think Jack cared for her, in his own way.  He was inconsolate when she was killed in that automobile accident.  But since Claire died, he hasn’t fooled around with any of his assistants, and he’s had three lovely lady assistants since then.”

 

“You think he grew up?”

 

“I think he sobered up, with the help of Jamie Ross. He only drinks in moderation now, and that’s a good thing.  Funny, though.  He was still rather sad, and seemed determined to drown himself in work, until about a month ago.  Since then, he’s been more lighthearted than I ever remember.  I hope that his accident doesn’t change things for him.”

 

Nora looked at Simon, and then said, “I do, too.  But the ethics professor and the politician are fighting inside of me.  One says, hey, he’s fraternized with staff and that’s a no-no, while the other says, he’s got a good track record on convictions and if his private life doesn’t interfere with his profession, don’t do anything.”

 

“Well, that was Adam’s philosophy.  Don’t rock the boat.  Besides, this is New York.  Do you think that the voters really care about the private lives of the likes of us?  Look at the former Mayor—his affair was splashed all over the papers, but he was New York on that dark day in September.  If the statute would’ve allowed it, he’d have been elected a third time, easy.”  Simon smiled.  “If you’re worrying about Jack and his famous reputation ruining things for you, relax.  No one will care.”

 

“You are probably right,” Nora conceded, “but the ethics professor is still a bit uncomfortable with the situation.”

 

Simon studied her for a moment.  “I know why you went into teaching,” he said finally.  “I can read you like a book.  This discussion isn’t exactly about Jack McCoy, is it?”

 

“Say, for the sake of argument, that it is not,” Nora said.  “Say that an official—like me—is having doubts on whether to maintain a  personal relationship because she is afraid of how it will effect her professional one.”

 

“A no brainer,” Simon said.  “If you can do your job, and do it fairly, whatever happens in your personal life is your own business.”  He got up to go.  “You know, Nora, that sometimes what is taught in books is not what really happens in the real world.  Take a look at it this way: how does it feel in your heart?”  He smiled and left.

 

Nora sat, staring out of the window, until her tea grew cold.  Suddenly, she realized that it was time for her next appointment, and she got up to confer with Stace.

 

“Mr. Wilkins said he was stuck in traffic,” her secretary said as she took the teacup from Nora’s hand.  “You’ve got a fifteen minute window.  Why not call the hospital and see how Jack is doing?”

 

“That’s a good idea,” Nora said.  “Make the call and put it through to my office.”  She went back inside and sat at her desk. 

 

A few moments later, Stace came in the door.  “The hospital released him at one o’clock.  They said he went with his brother, Michael.”

 

“That makes sense,” Nora said, half to herself.  “Mike and his wife can take care of him while he recovers.” 

 

“You want me to find Michael McCoy’s number from Jack’s file?” Stace asked.

 

“No, I have it here,” Nora said, getting out her purse.  She looked up, aware of the surprised look on Stace’s face.  “Thank you,” she said politely.  Stace left.

 

Sighing, Nora found the number and phoned.  “Jack?  Oh, you’re his nephew Mickey?  You sound just like your uncle.  This is Nora Lewin.  May I speak to your Uncle Jack, please?”

 

“Nora?”  Jack’s voice came on the line.  “How is everything at the office?”

 

“Dull as dishwater,” Nora said.  “I’m more concerned about you.”

 

“The doctors said I’d be fine.  Just a day or two of rest.  Though my nephew’s idea of rest is to have me play computer games with him, and it’s giving me a headache.”

 

“Then don’t play,” Nora said.

 

“What, and have him beat me?  Well, I’m glad you called.  It gave me an excuse to stop.”

 

“You sound good,” Nora said.

 

“I feel better, now that you’ve called,” Jack replied, his voice tender.  “I still can’t believe you spent the night in that hospital room.”

 

“My back believes it, and so does my hair,” Nora said.  “It took two cans of hairspray to get it to lay right.”

 

“I wish I was there right now, to muss your hair up again,” Jack said in a low voice.  “Can you come over later?  We’ll have the rest of the New York McCoys here as chaperones.”

 

Nora laughed.  “I’d like that.  Anything I can bring you?”

 

“Another stocking cap five sizes larger than my old one,” Jack said.  “This bandage makes me look like a mummy.”

 

“I’ll see what I can find,” Nora said.

 

“But most of all, just come,” Jack said.  “I know you can’t say much, being there at the office, but—I miss you.  And I love you.”

 

“I know, Jack, I know,” Nora said.  She straightened up as Stace came to the door.  “My next appointment is on time, I see, so I’ll have to let you go.  I’ll see you later.”

 

As she greeted the Police Commissioner, she suddenly realized that Jack hadn’t asked about his cases or how Serena was doing with them.

 

She got away from work late, but went straight up to Mike McCoy’s apartment on 35^th Street.  She was greeted by Erin McCoy, who smiled and invited her in.

 

“Mike and Jack have told me a lot about you,” she said as she took Nora’s coat.  “Well, I’ve heard from Jack, mostly.  You’re all he’s talked about when he comes to dinner, ever since you were appointed to the post.  I’m glad to get to meet you.”

 

“And I’m glad to meet you,” Nora said.  “When I knew Jack and Mike years ago, I thought of Mike as the skinny little brother with sad eyes.  I’d always hoped he’d find someone who would make him smile and fatten him up a bit!”

 

Erin grinned.  “Hey, I’m a good cook, but the McCoy brothers have this marvelous metabolism that lets them eat a ton of food and not gain an ounce.  Me, I look at a brownie and I’m five pounds overweight!”  She patted her stomach.  “But my boys like their chili and hamburgers.  They are all in the game room—what used to be the living room—playing one of Mickey’s games!”

 

The three McCoy men were seated side by side on a couch, joysticks in hand.  There were monsters and assorted swinging blades attacking a small group of muscle-bound super hero types.  Nora watched, amused, as Jack squinted at the screen, then moved his joystick to make his character jump to avoid a flying dinosaur.  Mickey was a younger version of his dad; like all the McCoys, he was thin with a mop of unruly dark hair. 

 

“Gotcha!” Mickey cried as Jack’s character was hit on the head and fell out of sight.

 

“I’ll get you next time!”  Jack said, turning to look at his nephew.  That was when he was aware Nora was in the room.  He got up, a big smile on his face, and came to her.  He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, oblivious to the smile of his sister-in-law.

 

“I found you a hat,” Nora said playfully, taking out a gaudy orange scarf that had been pinned together with safety pins.  “Well, actually, it’s Simon’s scarf, but he donated it to the cause.  Serena supplied the pins.  We thought this way, you could adjust it.”

 

Jack took one look at the scarf and laughed.  Then he held her close again and kissed her on the cheek.  “This is the best medicine I could have!  How about going into the dining room so we can talk?  I think father and son are still battling it out for control of the universe.”

 

He led her into the dining room, Erin close behind.

 

“I’ve got to look after the pot roast,” she said.  “I hope you haven’t eaten, Nora.”

 

“No, I haven’t,” Nora said, suddenly realizing she was famished.  “In fact, I haven’t eaten all day.”

 

Jack raised his brows.  “It must have been a busy one, then.  Come, sit, and tell me all about it.”

 

Nora shrugged.  “Not much to tell.  I put Serena on reviewing the evidence file in the Oberman case.  It seems a little thin to me.  I got a postponment from Judge Wright in the Silverman kidnapping trial.  He’s postponed opening statements until next week.  Judge Samson understood and said he’d wait on pretrial motions on the Lawson case until Monday.  If you’re not ready, I’ll go with Serena—“

 

Jack stopped her by taking her hand in his.  “I wasn’t asking about my cases, I was asking about your day,” he said gently.

 

Nora looked at him keenly.  “This isn’t like you, Jack, to not be interested in what is going on in your office.”

 

He shrugged.  “I knew you would take care of it,” he said.  “And I was more concerned about you.”  He looked into her eyes.  “Were you ok today?  You didn’t get too tired, or anything?”

 

Nora smiled and looked into his eyes.  “You’re still worried because I slept on that chair,” she said.  “I’m fine, Jack.  I had a lot of meetings with a lot of boring people, but I still managed to get the important things done.”

 

“And I thank you for helping Serena,” Jack said.

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Nora said.  “I finally got to phone you.”  She took his hand and kissed it.

 

Jack looked at her.

 

“I had a chat with Simon Feldman today,” she said.  “He says that you’ve looked better in the last month than you have in ages.”

 

Jack smiled and said nothing.

 

“And he gave me some sage advice.” Nora looked in Jack’s eyes, and felt her heart leap.  “He said that the best ethics were to follow your heart.  That somehow, by doing that, everything would come out all right.”  She leaned forward and kissed him.

 

Erin, who had just come from the kitchen, stopped and smiled before returning to check on the pot roast again.

 

Dinner that night was a happy affair, with all the McCoys talking and swapping stories.

 

“And you wouldn’t believe it, Nora, but Uncle Jack took over my computer and played the game until 3am!” Mickey said.

 

“And how would you know how long I played?” Jack asked in mock anger.

 

“Because I heard Dad telling you to hang it up!” Mickey grinned.  “When Dad bellows, he can wake the dead!”

 

“I did not bellow, I merely let my brother know it was time to quit while he could still see,” Mike said.  “Besides, Nora here could tell you that your old man won prizes for speaking!”

 

“You mean he really didn’t buy that loving cup in a pawnshop somewhere, Nora?” Mickey asked.

 

“That loving cup, which I see is still in a place of honor on your mantle, was won during your father’s senior year at St. Phillip’s Academy in Chicago,” Nora said.  “He was so proud of it that he brought it with him when he came to visit New York that summer.  I was never so surprised to see him open his suitcase and see a trophy there rather than clothes!”

 

“Hey, I was used to bumming Jack’s stuff, and figured I could do the same while I was in the Big Apple,” Mike said, smiling at the memory.  “And I wanted to impress him.”

 

“You impressed me, all right—impressed me that you’d lost your senses!” Jack teased.

 

“But I got a good pair of Levis out of the trip, and a couple nice shirts,” Mike said.

 

“So that’s where they went!” Jack said.  “Nora and I looked for them for days after you left!”

 

“This was a lovely meal,” Nora told Erin at the end of the meal.  “Would you like me to help you clean up?”

 

“What, and have Mike break training?  I’m still hoping that he’ll finally do the dishes by our twenty-fifth anniversary,”  Erin said with a smile.  “You and Jack go into the living room—Mickey, to your room to do homework!”

 

Nora sighed as she sat down on the couch.  Jack sat down beside her and put his arm around her.  They smiled at each other and just sat, enjoying the muted sounds from the rest of the apartment.

 

“Like old times,” Nora finally said, looking up at Jack.  “I remember when Mike visited us.  We’d just got the apartment together.”

 

“For the whole summer,” Jack said, thinking back.  “We signed the lease for the whole summer.”  He sighed.  “If I hadn’t been so stupid, it could have been for a lifetime.”

 

Nora placed a finger on his lips.  “Hush,” she said.  “What’s gone is gone.  What’s important is now.  We have each other.”

 

Jack smiled sadly.  “Yeah.  We work in the same building.”  He sighed.  “But you’re right.  What’s important is now.  You are here, and that’s all that matters.”  He took her hand in his and kissed it.  “I love you,” he whispered.

 

Nora drew closer, and put his face in her hands.  She raised her lips, and they kissed.

 

Mike came to the living room door, but stopped when he saw them and smiled.  Grinning, he went back to the kitchen.

 

Nora left, reluctantly, a few hours later.  She would have loved to stay all night, but she knew that was impossible.  Jack was tiring, and she had a full day awaiting her.

 

Saturdays, Nora had found, were not the days off she enjoyed while a professor.  Instead, they were the time when the District Attorney met with political advisors and wooed potential donars.  The powers who had installed Nora in office were pleased with what she had done, and were already planning her campaign.

 

“Honesty, integrity, and a voice for all,” Todd Miller had said.  He was the campaign manager who had come to Nora, highly recommended.  “We’ll bring the message home to the voters in a series of press conferences, which will increase in number the closer we get to the election.”

 

“I don’t like press conferences, unless there is something to discuss,” Nora said uncomfortably.  “To talk just to be talking, well—“

 

“Nora, we have to keep your name in the news,” Miller explained.  “Adam Schiff was an institution, and his campaign practically ran itself.  You, on the other hand, are a newcomer.  You have to prove yourself to the voters.”

 

“I think I do that by running the DA’s office fairly and efficiently,” Nora replied.

 

Miller smiled.  “Yeah.  Well, that and a buck will buy you a cup of coffee, as long as its nothing fancy.  The voters want to know about you—how you stand on important issues, like the death penalty.”

 

“I think I made myself clear on that point a while back,” Nora said.

 

“And great TV it was!” Miller enthused.  “We’ll use clips of that conference in our ads.  Speaking of ads, you’ve got that fundraiser to attend tonight.  Seven, formal dress, and lots of money.  Wow ‘em.”

 

Nora tried.  She was polite and talked with several people about the crime problems in the city.  They seemed impressed at how she could bring up statistics in conversation and make them interesting.  At the end of the evening, she gained three new backers, who donated the maximum allowed by law. 

 

But the strain left her exhausted.  She collapsed into her limo and had to be awakened by her driver, Marvin, when she got home.

 

She’d just opened her door when she heard her phone ring.  She rushed to get it, wondering who would be calling at that hour.

 

“You’re home,” Jack said tenderly.  “I’m relieved.  I knew you had that dinner tonight, but I wanted to hear your voice before I went to sleep.  How did it go?”

 

“My face hurts from smiling so much,” Nora said.  “It was really a strain.  I hate these sort of things!”

 

“A necessary evil for every politician,” Jack sympathized. 

 

“I was honest and forthright with everything,” Nora said, “and yet, well—I felt as if I were using these people.”

 

“Welcome to the world of politics,” Jack said.

 

“I know,” she sighed.  “Let’s talk about something pleasant.  How was your day?”

 

“I’m home now,” Jack said.  “I’m feeling a lot better, and I wanted to sleep in my own bed.”  He paused.  “Want to come over tomorrow?  I wouldn’t mind the company.”

 

“Let me sleep on it,” Nora said.

 

“I understand,” Jack said sadly.

 

“No, Jack, I’m not stalling,” Nora said.  “I’m just exhausted and can’t think straight right now.  I just got in, and I need to get out of these clothes and into something comfortable.”

 

“Wish I was there to help,” Jack chuckled.  “Call me in the morning.  I love you.”

 

“And I love you,” Nora replied.

 

She slept late the next morning, and when she finally got up, she put on her jogging clothes.  A nice run would help get the kinks out, she reasoned.  And when she was done, she could stop by that little deli on the corner and get breakfast and a paper.  A good plan.  But she found herself jogging a new route, one which took her right to Jack McCoy’s apartment.

 

He smiled as he opened his door.  “You look wonderful,” he said.

 

“Oh sure, in sweats with a stocking cap on,” Nora replied.  “You, on the other hand, look stunning in jeans and a sweater.  I wish you could wear them all the time, you look so good in them.”

 

“I thought I still look a little worse for wear,” Jack said.  “I go to the doctor’s tomorrow, and hopefully get the clearance to come back to work.”  He opened the door wide.  “Come in and sit down.”

 

Nora went to the couch, and Jack sat down beside her.  He smiled, and then gently took her in his arms and kissed her.  “So what do you want to do today?” he asked in a low voice.

 

“What I want to do and what I can do are two different things,” Nora said, as she caressed his cheek.  “Simon told me to follow my heart, but my head has to intervene.”

 

“I can wait,” Jack said.  “At least, I think I can.”  He leaned over and kissed her again.

 

Nora got up.  “If we keep this up, it will only lead to the bedroom,” she said.  “ I do want to spend time with you, though.  How about going out for brunch?”

 

Jack sighed.  “Brunch is better than being alone,” he said.  “Let me get my coat.  Where do you want to go?”

 

“There’s a deli not far from my place,” Nora said.  “Are you up to walking that far?”

 

“Yeah,” Jack said.  “As long as we walk slowly.”

 

They walked, arm in arm, to the deli, where they ordered a liesurely brunch.

 

“Come back to my place for the afternoon?” Jack asked.

 

“I’ll walk you home,” Nora said.  “But I think you need to rest.  You look a bit tired.”

 

“Tired but happy,” Jack said.  He gave her hand a squeeze. 

 

Nora spent the rest of the day trying to rest, too.  But it was hard.  Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw Jack’s face.  She swore she even felt the touch of his lips on her cheek.  If life were simpler, she’d be at Jack’s apartment, in his arms, right now.  But life has a way of becoming complicated.  Nora sighed, and finally went to sleep.

 

Monday was a typical Monday, full of business and work.  Nora’s schedule was crowded with meetings, but she made sure to take time to talk with Serena.

 

“I just got a call from Jack,” she told her.  “He’s got a clean bill of health, and will be back tomorrow.”  What she didn’t tell Serena was that she was going to go by Jack’s apartment to celebrate that night.

 

 

 

Nora was busy reviewing some crime statistics the next morning when Murial Hopkins stuck her head in the door. 

 

“Have a minute?” she asked.

 

Nora put down the papers.  “Of course,” she said.  “Come in and sit down.”

 

“There’s a fraud case that is really a mess,” Murial said.  “It involves a prominent person embezzling funds from a local charity.”

 

“Names, please,” Nora said.

 

“Malik Hannah, the New Neighborhood Association,” Murial said.  “My question is, how do I handle it?  You said not to make waves.  If this isn’t handled right, Hannah will make waves.”

 

“What is the evidence against him?” Nora asked.

 

“Circumstantial, right now,” Murial admitted.  “A disgruntled employee came with information and a few records.”

 

“Enough for a warrant?” Nora wanted to know.

 

“That’s where I am not sure,” Murial hesitated, then smiled.  “You know, I tried calling you last night, and you weren’t home.  You didn’t respond to a page, either.”

 

“I left my pager here last night,” Nora said.  “Thank you for reminding me—I’ll make sure to take it with me when I leave.”  She looked at Murial steadily, until the EADA lowered her gaze.  “Now, how about giving me the particulars of the case?  Then we’ll know if there’s enough for a warrant.”

 

“Well, we know from our informant that funds earmarked for a neighborhood playground have disappeared,” Murial said.  “He was in charge of ordering equipment—swings and the like—and he was told to cancel the order.  When he asked if he was to reorder somewhere else, he was told no.  That’s when he called us.”

 

“I see why you hesitated,” Nora said.  “You know, often would-be whistle blowers are working in their own self-interest.  Did the police find out if he had any connection with the playground equipment company? It could be he was to get a kickback, and Hannah stopped things to prevent that from happening.  Before you do anything more, check out the employee’s story.  Then get back to me with what you find.”

 

“All right.”  Murial got up to leave.  She looked thoughtful.  “It’s funny, isn’t it, how employees can make life hell for their employer?”  She smiled and left.

 

Nora felt a chill go up her spine. She had visited Jack the night before, and had stayed rather late.  He had massaged her neck and then held her in his arms as they listened to soft music, just enjoying being close.  I didn’t do anything wrong, she told herself sternly.  If Jack had come to her with the Hannah mess, she’d have told him the same thing she’d told Murial.  No, the EADA was just trying to rattle her, she decided.  Well, she wouldn’t be rattled.

 

Jack came in a few minutes later.  He grinned at her as he sat down on the couch. 

 

“Back in the saddle again,” he said, “and glad of it.  It got boring in my apartment when I was all alone.”

 

“And when you weren’t?” Nora smiled.

 

“I think you know,” he replied. “But business before even thoughts of pleasure.  Serena has shown me the court docket for the rest of the month, and  it’s a heavy one.  Think I can ask for a continuance on the Brady case?”

 

“You have the best of reasons,” Nora replied, “but I’m afraid that if we let this case drag on, we’re likely to lose the good will of your star witness, Sean Hankins.  I talked to him last Friday, and he’s impatient to get back to his home in Nebraska.”

 

“One reason I hate having tourists as eyewitnesses,” Jack sighed.  “Have we got his deposition?”

 

“Yes, but you know what the defense will say to that.  They’ll get it thrown out, since they weren’t allowed cross-examination.”

 

“I hate having a whole trial schedule tailored to the whims of one man,” Jack complained.

 

“I would hardly call Mr. Hankins’ feelings whims,” Nora replied.  “He has a job to get back to.”

 

Jack looked at her.  “You’re right, of course.  And I’d better get back to mine, instead of  goldbricking.”

 

“I don’t think I’d call you a slacker,” Nora said quickly.

 

“I know, but you’re right.  I’m not here for my convenience,” Jack said sadly.  “I’ll tell the judge we’re ready to start the trial this week.  Then Hankins can testify and be on his way.”  He left the room, his shoulders drooped.

 

There, you handled that fairly, Nora told herself.  But her heart ached at the memory of Jack’s sad face and the exhausted way he left the room.

 

March soon blew February out of the way, and Nora found herself spending more and more time on her campaign.  But through it all, she took time to talk to Jack on the phone every night.  And most Sundays they were able to spend time together, as well.  Jack was amused as Nora told him of the campaign dinners and the strategy sessions.

 

“I’m glad I’m not political,” he said.  “How you can stand to go through with this dog and pony show is beyond me.”  He looked at her clouding face and quickly added, “but I’m darned proud of you for doing it.  You’ve run the office well.  We need a strong person to be DA.”

 

“Strong?” Nora asked, exhaustion in her voice.  “I’m beginning to wonder about strong.  These dinners and meetings are taking a lot out of me.  And the daily stress of decision making takes its toll as well.”  She looked at Jack, who put his arm around her.  “Don’t get me wrong.  I want the job.  I just wish I could get elected without all this hoopla.”

 

“Well, you don’t have to think about the hoopla until tomorrow,” Jack soothed.  “It’s Sunday, and it’s our day.”  He went over to the radio and turned it on.  “Let’s listen to some light classical music and just relax.”

 

“As long as I’m with you, I’m relaxed,” Nora said.  Jack sat down, and she put her head in his lap.  He ran his hand gently across her cheeks, and through her hair.  Nora closed her eyes, and was soon asleep.

 

It was dark when she awoke.  Her head was on a pillow on the couch, and Jack was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Jack?” she called.

 

He came out of his bedroom.  “I didn’t want to disturb you, so I went in to read,” he said.  “How are you feeling?”

 

“A lot less tired, but a lot more stressed.  What time is it, anyway?”

 

“Close to seven in the evening,” Jack said.  “You got a good rest.”

 

“But how am I going to get home?” Nora asked.  “I can’t jog home after dark, and I don’t want to take a cab.”

 

“I know,” Jack said.  “Discretion.  Well, tonight you’ll have to throw it to the winds, unless you want to ride on the back of my bike.”  He looked at her wickedly.  “You haven’t done that since college.”

 

“Oh Jack, I don’t know,” Nora said.  She got up, agitated, and paced the floor.

 

Jack looked at her, concerned.  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “I should have awakened you earlier.  Look, I’ll call a cab to go to the corner and you can get it there.”

 

“No, that’s silly,” Nora said.  “All of this is silly.  Why am I so paranoid?”

 

“Greg Morgan and Murial Hopkins, that’s why,” Jack said.  “Some of their little remarks have gotten back to me, and I just laugh them off.  Then I say it’s none of their business.  You should do the same.”

 

“I know, I know.  But the head still rules the heart, I’m afraid,” Nora said.  She turned to Jack.  “Well, in this case, the heart is overruling the head.  Take me home, Jack.”

 

Jack looked at her, a smile slowly spreading across his face.  “You mean you want to ride?”

 

“Yes,” Nora said.  “And hold you really tight.”

 

Jack got out the helmets and they walked to the garage, where they mounted the Yamaha.  Nora hung on tight as Jack eased the machine out into traffic.

 

The ride was over too soon.  Nora laughed as she took off the helmet and handed it to Jack.  “Thanks for the lift,” she said.

 

“You’re welcome,” Jack said, and bowed with mock solemnity.  Neither noticed a man across the street, but he noticed them.

 

The next afternoon was an Executive’s Meeting.  Nora was making notes for it when she heard a knock at the door.  She looked up, and Greg Morgan and Murial Hopkins entered the room.

 

“Hello, Nora,” Greg said as he sat down.  “I came here today to give you notice of my intent to run in my party’s primary for the position of DA.”  He looked at Murial.

 

“And I am running as well—in your party’s primary,” Murial said.

 

“Thank you,” Nora said formally.  “I won’t lie and say I’m surprised by it.  I wish you good luck.  This, of course, will make no difference in your position here.  And if you ever feel that I am less than fair with you, you can always go see—“

 

“Mayor Guliani, I know,” Greg said with an evil smile.  He looked at her like a wolf ready to devour a sheep.  “But I don’t want to have to go to the Mayor.  You see, he might not like the pictures I have to show him.”  He looked to Murial, who got them out of her briefcase.

 

“These were taken yesterday evening, outside your house,” she said.  “The man, I believe, is Jack McCoy.  And you are his passenger.”

 

Laugh, she told herself.  That’s what Jack McCoy would have done.  But all she could manage was a tight-lipped smile.  “Yes?” she asked.

 

“Well, this flies in the face of your campaign pledge of honesty and fairness,” Murial smirked.  “How can you say you are either if you are carrying on an affair with one of your staff?”

 

Nora looked at her steadily.  “How can you imply that I am having an affair with Jack McCoy just because he gave me a lift home?  Or is it a crime to like to ride on motorcycles if you are a middle-aged woman?”

 

“Well, it was late,” Murial began.

 

“It was about seven, as I recall,” Nora said.  “I don’t call that late, especially in this city.”

 

“Well, where were you?” Murial cried.

 

“On Jack’s motorcycle, obviously,” Nora replied.  She looked from Murial to Greg and back again.  “If you are accusing me of favoritism again, you’ll have to prove it in another way.  How have I treated Jack differently than any of the other Executives?  I don’t see him getting less than his share of cases.  I don’t see him getting extra assistants or new office furniture.  Show me where Jack McCoy is treated differently, please.”

 

“Well, you rode on his motorcycle,” Murial said darkly.

 

“Which has nothing to do with the office,” Nora said.  “If you are so interested in my movements, you must have also noted that Saturday night I was treated to a dinner by Ramon Rivera.”

 

“But that was for political purposes,” Greg broke in.  “You spoke with some Hispanic leaders later on that evening.”

 

“I think this whole meeting was for a political purpose,” Nora said, standing up.  The two EADAs stood up, too.  “I expect you to spend your time in this office on the work of the DA.  As I said before, I am running on how this office operates.  If you have any concerns over that, feel free to bring it to me, or take it to the public.  Good day.”

 

Silently, the two EADAs left the room.  Nora remained standing until they left, and then collapsed into her chair.

 

She was trembling, and couldn’t stop.  And then, strong arms were on her shoulders.  She looked up into Jack’s concerned face.

 

“I saw them as they left,” he said.  “What did they do to you?”

 

“Nothing that we shouldn’t have anticipated,” Nora said.  “They stationed a man outside my house, and when I came home, he took photos.”

 

Jack frowned, and cursed under his breath.  He got up and started pacing the floor.  Finally, he stopped and faced Nora. 

 

“This was my fault—again.  Look, Nora, I think the only thing to do is to stop seeing each other until after the election.”

 

“But what will that solve?” Nora cried.  “That will just show that I am dishonest about my relationships.  No.  I won’t do that.”  She stood up and went over to him.  “We have done nothing to be ashamed of,” she said, taking his hands in hers.  “If people know us, they will know that anything those two say is a lie.”

 

Greg Morgan and Murial Hopkins sat uncomfortably as the Executive’s Meeting dragged on and on.  Nora had a lot of information about a new crime task force that the Mayor had asked her to form.

 

“Since this task force will be investigating the links between organized crime and gangs, I think it very important that we have a coordinated effort from all divisions,” she said.  “I have thought long and hard on who to appoint as head of this task force, and I have decided on Ramon Rivera.”  She looked at Ramon, who smiled in surprise and gratitude. 

 

“Politically correct,” Murial muttered. 

 

Nora heard her.  “I wouldn’t say it’s merely politically correct.   It is the correct choice.  We want to let the people of New York know that we are persuing criminals, and not persecuting anyone.  Mr. Rivera has a track record of thoroughness and diligence that no one can surpass. Ramon,  you have carte blanche to choose your assistants.  I know that your selection will include individuals of every ethnicity.”  She looked at Murial, who turned her head.  “If there is any other matter that needs to be brought up at this meeting, please bring it up now.”

 

Murial looked at Greg, but he shook his head.

 

“If there is nothing else,  this meeting is adjourned,” Nora said.  “Ramon, if you don’t mind staying, we’ll talk about the task force.” 

 

The executives filtered out, and Ramon came up to Nora.  “Thank you for this vote of confidence,” he said.  “I won’t let you down.”

 

“I know you will do an excellent job,” Nora said.  She hesitated.  “But I want you to know, it also makes you a target for political sniping.”

 

“Greg and Murial?  I’m not going to let them get to me,” Ramon said.  He looked at Nora.  “Have they been hassling you about Jack again?”

 

“Why do you ask?” Nora said.

 

“Because of the look on your face when you lit into Murial.  There was more to it than my appointment.”

 

Nora sighed.  “Look, Ramon, I have to be honest here.  They are still up to their old tricks.  I see Jack after hours, and last Sunday he gave me a ride home on his Yamaha.  They had a man stationed at my house, and he took photographs.”

 

“Really?” Ramon said incredulously.

 

“But Jack and I are just old friends,” Nora said defensively.

 

“Oh, I know that,” Ramon said.  “What got me was picturing you on a motorcycle!  It just doesn’t seem to be you, Nora.”

 

“Well, it was,” Nora said.  “And I enjoyed it.”  She looked at Ramon carefully.  “My question is, what will other people think?”

 

“That you are one brave lady for riding with Jack,” Ramon grinned.

 

“No, you know what I mean,” Nora said.  “I like Jack, and I’m not going to hide the fact.”

 

“Which is exactly what you should do.”  Ramon looked at her.  “If I ever see you getting out of line, and favoring Jack, you’ll be the first to know.  Promise.”  He smiled.  “Now, how many people do you want on the task force?”

 

It was late before Nora finished her conference with Ramon.  When she left, she met Simon Feldman at the elevator.

 

“I’m surprised to see you here so late,” she said.

 

Simon smiled.  “Even the most senior EADA has extra work sometimes.  Willis, my ADA, was called home early because his son is sick—they think chicken pox.  So I had a few loose ends to tie up.”

 

“I hope Willis’s son gets well soon,” Nora said, making a note to have Stace send a get well card the next day.

 

“Oh, you know how it is with kids,” Simon said.  “They pick up every disease they can, but they get over them quickly.”  He looked at Nora.  “You, on the other hand, still seem to have a problem with some—germs—in this office.  What has Murial done?”

 

“Was I that obvious?” Nora asked. 

 

“No, but Greg and Murial were.  They looked very uncomfortable during the meeting, and kept exchanging glances.  If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were having an affair.”

 

“The only affair they have is political,” Nora sighed.  “Greg and Murial are  announcing their candidacies for DA  tonight—just in time for the local news.”

 

“And Murial is glad Greg is entering the race because she thinks he’ll be an easy candidate to beat come November,” Simon mused.  He shifted his briefcase in his hand.  “So what skullduggery were they up to today?”

 

Nora looked at Simon and sighed.  “They’ve stationed a man to watch my house,” she said.  “He took a photo of me coming home last night—on the back of Jack’s motorcycle.”

 

Simon chuckled.  “That you are brave enough to ride one of those contraptions raises you quite a bit in my esteem,” he said.  Then, more seriously, he added, “Are they accusing you of favoritism again?”

 

Nora shrugged.  “They are accusing us of having an affair,” she said.

 

“And you’re not, of course,” Simon said.  He stepped into the elevator when the doors opened, and Nora followed.  “Don’t look at me so surprised.  Nora, I know you, and Jack, too.  It has become obvious to me that you deeply care for each other, but neither one of you are at the age when you feel like taking chances with your careers.  Am I right?”

 

“Yes,” Nora said.  “Simon, you’ve relieved my mind somewhat.  I’m not sure what will happen if either of them start making innuendos in the press.”

 

“It hasn’t come to that, has it?” Simon asked.  “My advice—and this is from an apolitical old Jew—is to come clean about your relationship with Jack as soon as the press asks about it.  If you need any corroberation about fairness, I’ll be glad to testify.”

 

“It won’t come to trial, Simon,” Nora said.

 

“But it will be a trial for you—and Jack as well,” Simon observed.  The doors opened and he got out.  “Remember what I said, for what it’s worth.”

 

Nora went home, and turned on the television to watch Greg Morgan make his announcement.  “I pledge to bring a breath of fresh air into the District Attorney’s office,” he said.  “We’ll have no playing of favorites, no dishonesty.  I will now take questions.”

 

“Mr. Morgan!” a reporter from the Post cried.  “What comments do you wish to make about the present DA, Nora Lewin?”

 

“I plan to continue to work in the DA’s office,” Greg said.  “I will run on my record.”

 

“That’s what Nora Lewin has said,” the reporter continued.  “What is different about your records?”

 

“Well, for one, I do not entertain my assistants after hours,” Greg said.

 

“Are you implying that Nora Lewin is having improper relations with some on her staff, namely Jack McCoy?”  The reporter scribbled in his notebook furiously.

 

Morgan smiled.  “It’s not for me to say.  But I suggest that you check into the history of Ms Lewin and Mr. McCoy, and then look at their behavior today.” 

 

The announcer came on.  “These same words were used by another candidate for the DA’s office, Murial Hopkins, not ten minutes before.  In the conference announcing her candidacty, Ms Hopkins said—“

 

Nora shut off the television.  No sooner had the screen gone blank than her phone rang.  She answered it.

 

“Nora, this is Todd.  Were you watching the news?”  Her campaign manager sounded panicky.

 

“Yes,” Nora said.

 

“This is terrible, terrible!  We’ve got to figure out a strategy to stop this!”

 

“There’s no strategy,” Nora said.

 

“You mean their alligations are true?” Todd Miller asked incredulously.

 

“No, I mean I will hold a press conference tomorrow at Hogan Place,” Nora said.  “I need to tell the press about the crime task force anyway.  This will be a perfect time to let the public know the truth.”

 

“The truth?” Miller groaned.  “How bad is the truth, Nora?”

 

“Not bad at all,” Nora said with more bravery than she felt.  “You won’t have to do much for damage control.”

 

“I hope not,” Todd said, and hung up.

 

The phone rang.  This time it was the reporter from the Post, asking for her comments about Morgan’s  and Hopkins’s press conferences.

 

“I’ll let you know tomorrow at one,” she said.  “I’m holding a press conference at Hogan Place.  It was to be about the new crime task force, but I’ll cover my response to these alligations as well.”

 

This was the same answer she gave all the callers, and there were many.  Finally, about midnight, she was ready to turn off her phone and call it a night when the doorbell rang.  She almost didn’t answer it, but then she heard Jack’s voice through the door.

 

“It’s not the reporters, it’s me,” he said.

 

She rushed to the door and let him in, and collapsed in his arms, crying.  He stroked her back, her hair, and made soothing noises.  Finally, she looked up at him.

 

“I thought I was strong, but the press has just kept calling and calling—“

 

“I know,” Jack said.  “I’ve tried to get hold of you for nearly three hours.  Greg and Murial  should be shot.”

 

“I think they shot themselves –in the foot, that is,” Nora said.  “I’m having a press conference tomorrow, and I’m going to tell the truth.  My only question is, will you be there by my side?”

 

“Of course,” Jack said.  “Me and most of the rest of Hogan Place.  Oh Nora, I’m so sorry that we can’t just—“

 

“Hush,” Nora said, putting a finger to his lips.  “It’s better that it come out now, before the primary.”

 

“I wish I could stay the night, and just hold you,” Jack said.

 

“You know you can’t,” Nora replied.  Gently, she pulled away from him.  “Best you go home now.  We both need our rest.”

 

“I will,” Jack said, giving her one last kiss.  “But if I see anyone hanging around your door—or mine—I’m likely to have an accident with the Yamaha and run him down!”

 

“No need to resort to violence,” Nora said.  “It will be all right.”

 

But she wondered as she watched the reporters gather at Hogan Place the next day.  Jack, Simon, and Ramon Rivera were there with her, along with many of the junior staff.  Nora started the press conference by introducing them.

 

“This is Ramon Rivera, who will be heading the new task force on crime,” Nora said.  “He and his staff will work diligently to break the connections between organized crime and the gangs, and make our streets safe for honest citizens.”  She paused, and let Ramon make a brief speech and introduce his staff.

 

Then she took over the mike again.  “The other two gentlemen on the dias with me are my two most senior executives, Simon Feldman and Jack McCoy.  I asked Mr. McCoy to accompany me here today, and Simon volunteered.”  She turned and smiled at Simon, then turned back to the press.

 

“Last night, Mr. Greg Morgan announced his candidacy for this office.  I wish him all the best in his party’s primary, and look forward to challenging – and defeating him—in the fall.  Ms Hopkins also announced her candidacy.  She gets my best wishes, as well, although I look forward to defeating her a bit sooner.”  A low chuckle went through the audience.  Nora looked at the press corps seriously.  “I have stated that I have run—and will continue to run—this office on a platform of honesty and fairness.  I offer my record in public service, first as a professor and then as District Attorney, as proof that I have strived to always be honest and fair.  I have felt that one’s private life is one’s own business, unless it interferes with one’s job.  But in the world of politics, I have found that everything is fair game.  Therefore, I am going to tell you the story—the complete story—of my friendship with Jack McCoy.  I assume, of course, that you will check it out, and am prepared for this invasion of my privacy.  I am very greatful that Mr. McCoy has also agreed to submit to your scrutiny.”  She nodded to Jack.

 

“I met Jack McCoy when I was still in undergraduate school.  He was completing his law degree at NYU.  We became very close, and shared an apartment for a summer.  At the close of the summer, we went our separate ways, and didn’t really see each other again until I was appointed to this office.  Since that time, we have enjoyed going out to dinner and going on walks.  And yes, I’ve even ridden his motorcycle.  I, for one, am very glad to renew an old friendship.  I don’t believe that this friendship has, in any way, compromised our work relationship.  I challenge anyone, including Greg Morgan and Murial Hopkins, to find any instance of favoritism.  Now, I open the conference up for questions.  I’m sure you’ll have a lot.”

 

The clamor was tremendous, but the newswoman from Channel 4 beat out the rest.  “Ms Lewin, your candor was refreshing, but how can you be sure you are not showing favoritism?”

 

“I look to my staff to keep me in line,” Nora said.  “The former Mayor, Rudolph Gulinai, graciously accepted the role of being mediator in any disputes or concerns between me and my staff.  This policy was instituted several weeks ago.”

 

“And so far, no one has come to the former Mayor with any complaints,” Simon Feldman said.  He came to the podium.  “I’m the senior EADA, and I have seen no evidence of favoritism towards anyone in this office.  And I’m here because I resent the fact that Greg Morgan and Murial Hopkins decided to play politics.  Me, I’m not political.  I won’t even vote in this election, so you can’t say I’m biased.”  He stepped back as the reporters talked among themselves.

 

Then a reporter from one of the tabloids spoke up.  “Mr. McCoy.  I’ve heard rumors that you are a boozer and a womanizer.  What do you have to say to that?”

 

Jack came to the podium.  “Past history,” he said.  “I admit that I have had trouble with liquor.  That was one of the main reasons Nora and I broke up those many years ago.”  He looked at her tenderly.  “And yes, I’ve had affairs before.  But not now.  Nora and I are friends, and that’s all.  Please don’t condemn her because of my reputation.  She is a wonderful person, a caring person, and the best person to be the DA’s office.  And I will vote in the election!”  The reporters laughed at that.  After one or two more questions, thankfully about the task force, Nora closed the press conference and retired with the others to her office.

 

“That should shut Greg and Murial up,” Simon said with some satisfaction.

 

“Oh no, it won’t,” Nora said.  “I’ve unleashed the press.  They’ll be looking at our lives with a microscope.”  She turned to Jack.  “I’m sorry to have to put you through all this.”

 

“You didn’t make my reputation, I did,” Jack said.  “I just hope that the public doesn’t hold it against you.”

 

The next few weeks saw several articles about Nora Lewin.  Most involved Jack, as well.  Diana Hawthorne gave an interview, calling Jack a shyster who stayed just within the law to get a big conviction rate.  Jack refuted her claim, reminding the public that Ms Hawthorne had been convicted of prosecutorial misconduct and had been disbarred.  He also reminded the press that he was not the one seeking the DA’s job.  So the press concentrated on Nora’s career teaching at the University.  And they found nothing.  There was no scandal to be associated with the woman.  Former students and colleagues praised her honesty and integrity.

 

“The press are coming around to your side,” Jack said the afternoon of the primary as he sat in Nora’s office reading the paper.  “Even the ones backing Morgan have been forced to print the truth, and its making you look good.”

 

“At the expense of your feelings,” Nora sighed.  “I am sorry I’ve put you through all this.”

 

“You didn’t do anything, Nor,” Jack said with a sigh.  “I brought it all on myself.  You know, it was as if I’d lost my anchor when I lost you.  I was adrift so very long.  It’s no wonder I got into trouble.”

 

“You will be in trouble if you don’t go and vote,” Simon Feldman stuck his head in the door.  “The polls close in two hours.”

 

“For someone who is apolitical, you sure know a lot about the election,” Nora said, amused.

 

“It’s my assistants,” Simon said.  “They talk on and on about such things.  Anyway, Nora, good luck.  Better go now, and vote early and often.”

 

“That wouldn’t be ethical, but I’ll be sure and vote,” Nora laughed.  She looked at Jack.  “Well, its now or never.  We live in the same precinct.  Do we go together to vote?”

 

“Of course,” Jack said.  “And then on to our favorite restaurant to wait for returns.  Just the two of us, plus Ramon, Todd, and all your other supporters.”  He grinned.

 

“I just hope I don’t have to give a concession speech,” Nora worried.

 

“You won’t,” Jack said, leaning over and kissing her.

 

Cameras flashed as Nora went to her polling place.  She went into the booth first, and came out quickly.  “Easy when you know who to vote for,” she told reporters. 

 

Jack went in next.  He took a bit longer, but when he came out, he smiled.  Nora waved to the crowd, and they left.  Luckily, it was only a short walk to Maurice’s Restaurant, where a gala party was planned. 

 

Todd opened the door for them. “Hello, Nora, Jack,” he said.  “Maurice has everything laid out on the banquet table—chips, sandwiches, and punch.  We’ll save the champagne until after your victory speech.”

 

“If I get to give one,” Nora said nervously.

 

“You’ll get to,” Todd said encouragingly.  “I’ve told you, our polls indicate that the public likes you and your record.  And as for your friendship with Jack—well, they look on it as romantic.  You have the middle aged female vote sewed up.”  He grinned at Jack.  “If you ever decide to put your hat in the ring, let me know.”

 

“That will be the day,” Jack said.  He turned to Nora.  “Can I get you some punch?”

 

“No, I’m too nervous,” Nora said.  She paced the floor.  But soon she was occupied, greeting supporters and campaign workers who had come to help her celebrate the election results.  Although Nora talked with everyone, she always had one eye on Jack, who would give her a smile and a thumbs up.

 

The first results came in about an hour after the polls closed.  Everyone crowded around the television Maurice had set up in the corner of the dining room.  “In the DA’s race, it looks  like the incumbant party has given Nora Lewin the nod to be their standard bearer.  Her only opponant, Murial Hopkins, has garnered only 2% of the vote.”  The cheers drown out the announcer’s words for some time.  When he could  be heard again, he was saying “…Greg Morgan is preparing to make his concession speech.  We go to his headquarters now.”

 

Nora shushed the cheering.  “Let’s hear what Greg has to say.”

 

A sad looking Greg Morgan came on the screen.”It was a good fight,” he told his supporters.  “A good fight with a worthy opponant.  Now, let us work together to help Charles Sullivan beat Nora Lewin in November!”

 

“In a pig’s eye!” someone said, and everyone laughed.  Maurice was uncorking champagne, and Todd handed Nora a glass.  “Not until I’ve spoken to the press,” she said.

 

The Fourth Estate soon came, toting their cameras and lights.  Nora stood on the dias and spoke. 

 

“I am glad that the people of New York County have given me a chance to continue my work,” she said.  “I promise to do my best to be honest and fair and to protect the rights of all citizens of this borough.”

 

“What do you think about it, Jack?” a reporter called.

 

“I think it is fine.  She’s the best person for the job,” he said.

 

“Are you talking as a friend or as her assistant?” another asked.

 

“Both,” he grinned.

 

It was late.  The reporters had gone, and Nora’s supporters as well.  Only she and Jack were left, sitting at the long table, champagne glasses in their hands.

 

“To victory,” Jack said, touching his glass to hers.

 

“To love,” Nora corrected as she touched the glass to her lips.

 

 

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