A Dangerous Affair (Lesbian Story)

Autumn leaves

Elizabeth
14 October 2016

All I wanted when I had landed was to go directly to Will and show him the email.

I wasn't stupid enough to implicate the presidential candidate by leaving a digital trail in his email.

However, nobody in that bloody campaign was picking up the phone.

I understand that it's close to debate week, but for crying out loud how self-involved can they be?

That ever present feeling of dread in my gut has become a constant companion in the past three days.

Trying to sleep on the flight turned out to be a big disaster.

I craved the solace of my own head so much. I needed time to think. To organise. To function.

Instead my head buzzed and pulsed from all the things that needed to be addressed.

All of them equally important, and all of them not giving me any peace.

I'd left Oregon in such a rush, some outstanding documents for my fathers executor went unsigned.

My father is dead.

It's like I keep replaying the ending of a really bad movie.

The thought paused me as quickly as I have been ignoring it in my mind.

The looming presence of the corrupt and loving (according to Kalinda) Justice is weighing heavily on me.

He won't let my conscious rest as he invades my sleep, trying to give me unsolicited advice from the grave about what to do about the reporter.

"Sometimes money is the best temporary solution Anthony." I'd heard him once say to his lawyers.

My left temple was and still is throbbing as I imagined Parkins getting away by paying off the remaining jurors.

The mayor ranting in my office with spittle flying out of his mouth - his toupee on the verge of collapsing.

The same way that my career would collapse if that damn story gets out.

I don't think I kept a straight train of thought.

My brain kept fluctuating between worried, angry, depressed, worried about my depression and back to anger again.

By the time I got off the plane, I'd decided that the first order of business would be to speak to Will.

I desperately needed to speak to Will or Eleanor.

Unfortunately, the precinct had other plans for me.

"Liz." The stocky detective that I've known for the past two years greeted me with a tight lip.

"What is it Bridge?" I ask placing my black Prada handbag and cellphone carelessly on the corner of his desk.

I placed the items secure in the knowledge that no-one would steal them and also I was too tired to care.

"Sorry to bombard you with this but there's a big chance he'll walk Liz. It's like we're lining up bodies for him to take out. If jurors start dying and witnesses keep going missing Parkins is gonna walk."

His red unibrow furrows in frustration as he keeps looking at his door behind my untied head.

"What is it Bridge? You and I have both been aware of that reality so tell me why you called me in here?"

"You've gotta shut this down as soon as possible. Bring up the case Liz."

My laugh is hollow in the detective's closet cubicle. "Are you serious!? With what case Bridge. I'm picking a new juror every second day with this one. So I can only assume the ones I've got aren't clean. I'm losing witnesses faster than I can object. So on what grounds would I possibly want to move the case up?"

The man stares at me as if he is sizing up whether he can trust me or not.

Instead of speaking however his next words bring hope to me as they appear scribbled on a piece of paper.

I HAVE A WITNESS.

My brows copy Bridges for a second as I figure out why he is writing this down and not speaking it out.

Bridge suspects a mole.

This witness is the nail in the coffin in our case. We can lose everything and everyone but we can't lose this witness.

The only question I have is how are we keeping her safe.

Before I can utter my question Bridge grabs the page and writes something else.

ASK ME ABOUT THE KIDS

I have no idea what that is. But knowing Bridge, its always best not to question him.

"How are the kids Bridge?"

"Good. They're a little shaken up, been having nightmares. But I'm trying to reassure them that they're always safe with me."

The solemn nod of his head is the only indicator I need of where our conversation is going. He is talking about his witness.

I can feel the edges of my jaw tick from this information.

Although, the stocky red head must be desperate to put his family in this situation.

Harbouring a key witness for a murderous drug Lord's case, in his own home.

Before I can protest however the detective interrupts my half open mouth.

"I know, I know Liz. But what else could I tell them. I'm they're father. If we were to lose them that's it, everything would be over. If I don't protect them who will? Liz..."

"I need to come over and visit. Maybe if they speak to me, they'll feel better." I say.

"That you should Liz. But Liz, I need you to do more than just visit."

I tilt my head in confusion.

"Me and Angie, we aren't getting anymore privacy with everything that's going on. Liz...I need you to babysit."

Bridge has really lost. I couldn't harbour a key witness. Does he understand how dangerous that is.

"Look Liz. Your buildings secure enough for the kids. And you're the only one I can trust with them. You know I don't ask this lightly."

♏

Autumn leaves capture my mood as I roam the streets of Washington in the back of a cab.

Falling.

Hanging on by a slim twig to the last pieces of my sanity.

I can't believe I agreed to Bridges request. I can't believe it but I know it's for the best.

My thoughts on one of the stupidest decisions of my life is broken by the ring of phone.

The executor of my father's will is asking about the missing signature.

A signature I can't be bothered about right now.

Those damn documents. Just another reminder of my dead father.

I wonder how Kalinda is doing. I shouldn't, but the widow seemed distraught as I packed up my bags in haste. She looked like how I was starting to feel every time I contemplated the Justice's death.