In Pursuit of Justice Read Online Free PDF

violated. Betrayed by her superiors, by the system that sent her here ?
    “Do you want to proceed? You could still see Rand Whitaker.”
    “No. How long will this take?”
    “I don’t know. Have you been suspended?”
    “No. But they’ve got me riding a desk.”
    Stiff shoulders, condescending tone of voice, one quick, frustrated fist clench. She’s chafing at the restrictions.
    “More than a few sessions, most likely. I’ll see you on an accelerated schedule, but that’s as definite as I can be. What do you say?”
    Several beats of silence.
    “Okay.”
    “So. Tell me what happened.”

    “If there’s something you can say, I’m here if you want to talk,” Rebecca remarked.
    “I’m fine. I was just daydreaming about something that happened in a session today—something that brought up more than I realized, apparently. Rather like a waking version of what Freud said about dreams. He called them day residue, things we are still trying to process that we didn’t finish before sleep.”
    “He said a lot more than that about dreams, didn’t he?” Rebecca commented dryly.
    Laughing, Catherine nodded agreement. “Yes, quite a bit—most of which I take issue with.” Linking her fingers through Rebecca’s, she continued, “Nevertheless, even if I could talk about it, I certainly wouldn’t want to take up our time together tonight with business. After all, this is a date, right?”
    They’d made love, spoken of love, but they’d never had the time to fall in love. As much as she missed Rebecca’s subtle presence in her apartment—the extra clothes in the closet, two coffee cups in the sink, her keys and wallet on the dresser—she liked this new distance, too. It was a distance heavy with promise and hope, a kind of charged separation she’d never experienced before. It was the very opposite of lonely, because even though they still had a lot to learn about one another, Rebecca was a part of her life now.
    “Well,” Rebecca mused, feigning thought, her thumb playing over Catherine’s palm, “I got all spruced up in my best suit and I washed the Vette. And I’m trying like hell to impress you with the dinner and the wine.”
    Watching a pleased smile flicker across Catherine’s elegant face, Rebecca thought of how much she’d missed her that afternoon when she’d opened the door of her own apartment to be greeted by the musty scent of abandonment. Out of years of habit, she’d dropped the duffle inside the door and walked directly across the rugless living room to the single window, pushed it up, and leaned out to breathe the aroma of car exhaust and Saturday dinners. Home. As familiar as a favorite bar, and as lonely as the tail end of the night with only a bottle for company.
    She leaned closer across the table, her gaze claiming Catherine with the intensity of a caress. When she was with her, the places inside that always ached stopped hurting. “And I was hoping that you chose that dark green blouse with me in mind, because it reflects in your eyes—like shadows in a forest—calling my…”
    “Rebecca,” Catherine murmured, her heart hammering, “we’re in a restaurant.”
    Undeterred, she continued in a low, husky tone, “And I’ve been thinking all afternoon about the way my skin burns when—”
    “Stop. Right. Now. We are going to sit here and consume this very fine food, or Anthony will be so offended, he’ll never recover.” Her voice cracked, and she had to swallow. The way Rebecca was looking at her made her blush, from pleasure and something far more primal. She had never been the focus of such undiminished attention in her life. It was a heady feeling, and she suddenly understood how people made fools of themselves for love. “Is this how you seduce women?”
    “Only you.”
    “It’s working.”
    “Good.”
    Reluctantly, they sat back in their seats, breathing a little erratically, fingertips just barely touching on the fine linen. The first time at DeCarlo’s,