Not at Liberty

Chapter One

As they rode in the limousine, Brandon Stiles went over the press release he had been preparing for his boss.

Liberty Sloane, age 33, graduated summa cum laude from Georgetown University Law School. At present she’s a trial attorney, specializing in women’s rights. Her most recent case garnered international news when she won an acquittal for Diana Sherry, the Baltimore mother of three, accused of shooting and setting on fire her abusive husband. For her efforts on behalf of women’s rights, Ms. Sloane has been interviewed on Good Morning America, and the Today Show, and has offered expert commentary on legal matters for CNBC, Fox News, CNN, and One America News. Her law office is located in Bethesda, Maryland, and Ms. Sloane resides in nearby Rockville. For more information, contact Brandon Stiles at Sloane & Associates...etc., etc.

Liberty Sloane shifted in her seat to loosen up her skirt. Ever since she slid into the limo’s backseat, the hem had tightened and cut into her thighs. The crisp, navy-blue linen skirt and matching jacket complimented her turquoise silk camisole, all a bit clingy to emphasis her smooth curves and righteous body, even though these uncomfortable moments remained the price she paid for looking good.

That’s great, Brandon, Liberty complimented, but you forgot to include that I’m a BAP, Black and Proud of it.

Peering over his gold-rimmed glasses, Brandon gave his boss a puzzled look. Do you really think that’s appropriate?

I’m joking, Brandon, she told him. Overall, you did a great job with my dossier, but let’s take out the word expert. It makes me sound pompous.

We could add BAP with an extra P, Black, Pompous and Proud of it.

Liberty puckered her brow. Cute, Brandon, cute. What do we have going on after the dedication?

Brandon consulted the schedule on his tablet. After the dedication you have an open hour, and then drinks at five with the district attorney. But after that, you have a free evening, to do whatever your heart desires.

Liberty sighed. Could she really do such a thing as relax? She never truly felt free of obligations, meetings, court appointments, and must shows to keep herself in the public eye and generate business. But for Dr. Daniel Baumgard and the opening of his new center for battered women and their children, she would gladly clear her tight schedule and support his most recent endeavor. In fact, Liberty served on the board of directors for the Hope For Tomorrow Foundation, Dr. Baumgard’s non-profit enterprise to aid abused women through free or low-cost health care. That he also performed abortions at his Morning Star Clinic was well known, although not freely publicized along with his other accomplishments.

The newly constructed Community of Hope center next to the clinic would provide not only shelter for abused women and their families but offer career counseling, computer networking, job placement, and a day care center.

Do me a favor, Liberty asked, and call Jeff to cancel our meeting at Applebees. R.C. Jeff Jeffries served as the district attorney for Montgomery County. Actually, ask him if he’ll take a rain check. I’m just not in the mood for schmoozing over margaritas and nachos, his usual happy hour fare.

Deciding to heed her aide’s suggestion to take the night off, she wanted nothing more than to kick off her heels and indulge in anything but work as soon as this dedication ended.

Brandon grinned. I think our accommodating DA wants to wheedle your trade secrets out of you so he can win a case once in a while.

Liberty laughed. As you know, I never reveal my tactics or accommodate anyone from the opposing camp. Let Jeff earn his pay check, such as it is for a government employee, although he’s not a bad prosecutor once he gets going.

While Brandon brought up the number for the DA’s office on his iPhone, he added, I bet you’re glad you don’t work there anymore.

He referred to Liberty’s early years working for the DA, a thankless job for little pay. But once she had a few good, important cases under her belt, she left to start her own firm, a move she never regretted even when two prestigious Washington, D.C. law firms had courted her.

I’m more than glad; I’m ecstatic and grateful to be out of that legal wasteland. Liberty didn’t need to add the particulars of her experience there, all the back stabbing that went on while everyone tried to climb the ladder of success with little hope for recognition and decent compensation. Only the ruthless survived, but not without paying the price in worthless and often grueling cases where the defendants were guilty as sin and not fooling anyone. Yet a court-appointed attorney had to go through the motions anyway to try and defend his or her clientele. After all, the American legal system worked on the premise that defendants were innocent until proven guilty. Ha!

Nope, now she had everything she wanted.

In fact, Liberty had to thank her lucky stars for Brandon Stiles. Without him, she would never have gotten her firm off the ground. Even though a legal aide, he knew the law backward and forward, as well as kept her on track with his knack for multi-tasking. Of course, Liberty’s office manager, Corey Alvarez, added much-needed support, but Brandon kept the scales of justice balanced in his boss’s favor. Barely twenty-two, he possessed a tall, lanky body with a thatch of baby-fine, sandy hair, and serious brown eyes.

And he dressed for success, often in three-piece suits with coordinating ties, cuff links and wingtip shoes. Only once had she seen Brandon out of uniform when he came to help with a case on a Saturday and wore a pair of new jeans with crisp creases down the legs. Liberty wondered if he took the time to iron the jeans in order to achieve such precision, and use spray starch to boot. Along with the jeans, he wore a chambray shirt, an ivory sweater vest, and a pair of shiny Italian loafers.

Unfortunately Liberty could not pay Brandon his true worth, but she knew his parents—who ran a successful medical supply company in Baltimore—helped subsidize his penchant for clothes and shoes. He also had a keen eye for interior decorating. With a start-up office, Liberty had very little available cash to furnish her environs in a tone befitting a law firm, one that oozed with professionalism, maturity and confidence. Brandon stepped in and found office furniture at warehouse prices, polished walnut desks and credenzas, a large mahogany conference table, chairs upholstered in avocado-green microfiber, and oak-veneer file cabinets. For a touch of class, Brandon added floral prints in gilt frames and Chinese porcelain vases with bouquets of silk flowers.

What else could Liberty say about him? In addition to his efficient manner, good taste and legal expertise, Brandon added an amiable and jocular note at times. He joked that he was the token white boy, certainly an apt description with his pale skin. Actually the office trio represented three races as well as three shades of color, white, brown and black, or as Liberty often thought on a whimsical note: alabaster, nutmeg and burnt sienna.

The limo ride today had been a freebie from a satisfied client, and Liberty liked the idea of being driven by a confident, uniformed chauffeur rather than driving herself. Of course, she could hardly afford to make a habit of it.

Now as the limo pulled up near the Community of Hope building, she took in the arch of silver and pink balloons, and the white dais with the large pink ribbon stretched across. The ribbon offered Community of Hope, a Safe Haven for Women and Children, in sparkling silver script. Shortly, Dr. Baumgard would cut the ribbon and officially open the center.

Now she spied the doctor speaking with a small group of people. At sixty-eight, Daniel Baumgard still maintained his attractiveness, in looks and in physique. Liberty knew he liked to run marathons as well as swim and play racquetball. Today he looked rather dapper in a deep blue suit and striped tie, his tie tack a gold caduceus, the symbol of his profession.

His white hair, thick and luxurious, gave him a mature sexiness, while his clear blue eyes and generous smile offered a warm, fatherly appeal. On the personal side, the doctor had been widowed for almost five years, his wife, Lydia, dying of colon cancer.

He had one son, Rhett, who served as president and CEO of Capital Union Bank and who just won the congressional seat for his district that included Montgomery and Prince Georges Counties. Rhett married a Virginian debutante named Savannah, the products of their union seven-year-old twins, Jameson and Annalee.

Liberty had very little dealings with Rhett whom she considered all flash and no real substance. The voters liked him because he came off as a wholesome, clean-cut family man. Of course, his good looks—the waves of dark hair, the chiseled features, and his flirty blue eyes— helped to cement the image of the All-American Boy Who Made Good.

As soon as Dr. Baumgard spied Liberty he beckoned her to join him on the dais. When she stepped up to the platform, he took her hand and gave it an amiable pat, his gaze warm and inviting. I’m so glad you could make it, Libby. He was one of only a few people who called her by the more intimate sobriquet of Libby. You made this day truly special. I can never thank you enough for your service to the foundation.

Thank you for inviting me, Daniel. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.

Let me introduce you to some of my staff, a few paid employees, the rest volunteers who are the real heart of the center because they give generously of their time and expertise without any compensation other than our heart-felt thanks.

Liberty felt a bit awkward, first for the doctor’s praise, and second because she hadn’t thought about offering her legal services pro bono to the center. She had shuffled any community involvement to the back burner as she worked hard to build her law firm and recruit paying clients. Although she did not deserve this good man’s praise, Liberty knew this was not the time and place to debate the merits or demerits of her contributions.

Now she went through the formality of shaking hands and greeting his staff members, forgetting names as soon as she moved down the line, at least until she met the doctor’s publicity director, a deaf woman named Madeline Kime who went by the name of Maddy.

Maddy Kime could read lips but preferred to employ a sign-language interpreter. Her companion, David Vreeland, appeared to be in his early thirties, a very good-looking man with a cleft chin, hair the color of harvest wheat, and appealing brown eyes. Of course, Maddy came in a very attractive package with a heart-shaped face and large eyes, not quite hazel but with a bit of a green tint, what might be called olivine. She possessed shiny chestnut hair, parted to the side and styled with a bit of a wave that brushed her long neck. Like Liberty, she wore a skirt, jacket and camisole, hers of pink chenille and white satin, with a pink pearl necklace and matching earrings, her shoes white sling-backs with low heels.

When introduced to the attorney, Maddy offered a nice to meet you, Ms. Sloane in her thick, throaty but distinguishable voice. As the conversation grew around her, she deflected her attention to David who remained busy interpreting with the quick flash of his hands. In turn, she offered her responses in sign language and David vocalized her responses.

At first, Liberty thought Maddy to be a meek but dedicated woman, her pretty looks and outfit on the delicate side; but as the deaf woman joined in the conversation with her own valid insights and convictions, Liberty revised her opinion. The lady was smart, sharp, and definitely on top of her efforts to publicize the center as well as raise funds for the foundation.

Just before the ceremony began, Liberty gave the doctor a quick good-luck hug and added that this was his day, and she was here only for support, not recognition. Abiding by her request not to be mentioned, he offered her an appreciative smile. For his age, his face remained rather wrinkle-free with the faintest of lines around his mouth and eyes. In fact, the skin of his face, neck and hands appeared firm with a healthy glow, and Liberty surmised that Daniel Baumgard availed himself of the gym as well as the tanning salon.

She smiled fondly. A man of his age and single status who kept up his looks and vitality became a prized catch for the sixty-plus female population. After all, women outlived men, and single older men without hang-ups, ex-wives and bad habits were rare and precious commodities indeed. If I were just a few years older, Liberty mused. She might have tried to cast a romantic line his way.

Now as the ceremony commenced, she remained in the background, clapping at intervals with the crowd in response to the doctor’s rousing speech. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Rhett had arrived to support his father, his wife in tow, the pretty, fair-haired Savannah along with their pretty, fair-haired children. Nice to make this a true family affair, Liberty thought, since the new shelter offered services and support for families in crisis.

But as soon as the doctor cut the ribbon with a pair of large gardening shears, a woman from the back of the crowd interrupted the proceedings. Murderer! she shouted. Butcher of Babies! You should be in prison not here promoting more killing of unborn children!

Liberty strained to get a glance at the woman, but she made out only the top of her head, a mass of frizzy brown strands with dark roots.

Dr. Baumgard employed two security guards at the center and clinic in case some irate husbands or boyfriends wanted to break in and cause trouble. Now the young, burly guard closest to the back moved in to escort the heckler out of earshot. Liberty could see a small knot of protesters beyond the crowd holding up signs. So far they remained silent, but as soon as the ceremony wound down, they began to chant their protests in strident voices.

Save the life of an unborn child! Don’t support this clinic! Don’t support murderers!

And the woman who initially disrupted the ceremony shouted above the others: Dr. Baumgard is Doctor Death! He’s nothing more than a Nazi killer of babies!

Liberty donned a small frown. She had never seen a pro-life protest, but she surmised this one was fairly tame in comparison to other more insistent demonstrations. When she felt fingers at her elbow, she turned around and found Dr. Baumgard standing behind her.

Libby, I wonder if you could stop by my house later on this evening. I’d like to discuss something with you. He looked worried, although he tried to hide it beneath his easy-going manner.

If you need legal help, I’ll be glad to offer my assistance.

Thank you, but that might not be necessary. I just want your advice on a matter that has come to light recently.

Of course, Daniel. What time would you like me to stop by?

Would eight-thirty be too late? Unfortunately, I have a dinner engagement I can’t break. Actually it’s my son and his wife’s tenth wedding anniversary celebration, and they expect me to dine with them at six-thirty. Of course, I’ll be happy to offer you an aperitif while we talk.

Will you have enough time for dinner? Perhaps you want to stay longer with your son and daughter-in-law.

He shook his head. No, an hour, hour and a half, is long enough. Besides, it’s really for the couple. I’m just the old man, the patriarch, there to bless their union. I’ll be home by eight or a little after.

Liberty nodded. All right, eight-thirty it is.

With a faint smile of gratitude, he gently squeezed her arm. Thank you, my dear. I’ll see you then.

Chapter Two

As soon as she walked in the door, Maddy Kime flipped off her heels and headed for the bathroom. It had been a long day, made even longer by the dedication. David planned to join his friends for drinks and dinner at Ruby Tuesday, and he invited her to come along, but she felt too tired. Besides she and David had said all that needed to be said this afternoon when it came to office matters. And what they had pending—a PR brochure for a pharmaceutical company—could easily be put off until tomorrow or even the end of the week. Now she just wanted to kick back, watch a movie, and enjoy a big bowl of ice cream, Rocky Road her favorite.

Slipping out of her clothes, Maddy donned her kimono-style bathrobe in cream and peach silk. Then, after pulling back her hair with a stretch band, she ran water in the bathroom sink until she had the temperature adjusted to her taste. She rubbed some face cleanser between her fingers and then applied it to her chin, cheeks, and forehead. When finished, she splashed water over her face to get rid of the cleanser and any lingering makeup.

Suddenly hands grabbed her from behind, clutching her at the waist. She jerked up and thrust her elbows back until she contacted with the undercarriage of her assailant’s ribcage. She didn’t hear his initial groan of surprise and pain as he backed away. But when the intruder quickly returned and whirled her around with strong hands, she saw his face, flushed with surprise and a bit of bemusement. Her expression registered relief, although inside she didn’t know what to think.

Hey! he laughed. Where did you learn that trick?

He let her go so she could sign. I took a self-defense class. How did you get in? I thought I locked the door.

Key. Grasping an imaginary key between his fingers, he made a turning motion with his wrist. Remember? You gave me one in case I needed to get in, or you needed my help.

Oh.

He grinned. Oh, yeah.

Before Maddy could formulate her next question—why had he come here in the first place—he pulled her into a firm embrace and captured her mouth with his insistent lips. She tried to bring her arms between them and push him away, but his crushing, intoxicating kiss broke down her reserves, made her relax in his arms and allow him to pull her into the safety and strength of his presence.

She combed her fingers through his hair and then stroked the back of his corded neck. Pleasure rose in her and circled her heart. She wrapped around him, hard and tight, and he helped hike her legs around his waist. As always, she would give him everything he wanted before he knew he even wanted it. It undid her, this love for him. The depth and breadth of it left her weak and wanting, desperate and staggering.

However many times they made love, how many ways, it still felt like the first time to her; the thrill and excitement of exploring him never diminished. The taste and smell of him, familiar and fresh, stirred her soul. He lifted her and carried her over to the bedroom. That quick, amazing desire of his inspired her own arousal, and the sensation of being swept away thrilled her beyond words. His power, combined with hers, made her head spin as he laid her on the bed and then covered her body with his. She could never get enough of the weight, the shape, and the feel of him.

Had all their years starved for love caused this bottomless need for each other? His scent, of clean linen and spices, made her turn to his throat and breathe him in. With the loss of one sense, her others— smell, sight, taste and touch—had become acute and more sensitive than those of an average person with all five senses. She shivered and arched under his hands as he undid the sash of her robe and caressed her soft flesh, renewing the punch of sensation that kept her bound to him. No one else had ever brought her to this pinnacle of desire, of wanting so desperately.

Slow and dreamy, they explored and sampled the delights they offered one another. He paused to strip away his shirt so that flesh could meet flesh and hands could roam over curves and across strong planes. The long lines of him never failed to fascinate her, and his contrasts proved captivating and seductive, skin so tender over the toned muscles beneath, and eyes so cool and innocent when the rampant heat of desire burned just below. And it felt so forbidden, this love of theirs, hidden from the world, kept so safe and discreet. Maddy never realized how secret desires made love—and life—all the more thrilling.

He had a fierce, warrior body, although he gave of himself with gentleness and affection while she thrived on the endless thrill he brought to her. She trembled for him when he paused to take off the rest of his clothing; and when he returned to her, she feasted on his firm, strong and magnificent body. For a moment their gazes met, warm and excited.

His hands made a delicate slide up her thighs and she trembled even more when his fingers explored her very core. Rising to him, she grasped his member, stroked it to perfection, and then opened so he could slip it inside of her while she twined her legs and arms around him. He plumed the depths of her being, of her mind and soul. No one had ever gone there before; no one had ever been allowed to tread along her hallowed ground. Maddy had always been alone before him, alone and frightened as she viewed the world and everyone in it as silent, brooding monsters. The moment she met him she knew they were meant to be like this, each giving the other peace and serenity, able to soothe away their fears with affection and love.

He whispered her name several times and she read it on his lips, like a mantra to a prayer. Then he demanded and took, while she gave willingly and succumbed to his every stroke. Several times he brought her to the heady brink of climax, only to leave her aching for more. He wanted her to climb with him, slow and steady at first, and then quick and fierce. His fingers dug into her, a testament to his growing loss of control; and when she offered, he feasted on her full, firm breasts like a man starving. The twin sensations shot her to orgasm for the first time, but she held on, steady and determined.

Lifting his head with her hands, she found and crushed his mouth to hers, the kiss wild and brutal. She would take him now, ride him to that dangerous edge, and demand her turn to destroy him. When his vision clouded and his jaw clenched, she moved in for the kill, rode him like a demon. He moaned as she bucked beneath him and lashed her fury to his taut body. He peaked like an engine on full throttle, battering into her and then erupting. She followed him in that hot wave of release, letting out a cry of pleasure in the process. Although she could never hear it in her own ears, such an outpouring of delight hummed in her mind.

Barely able to catch his breath, he collapsed and then rolled weakly to her side. When he felt able again, he hiked up on his elbow and leaned over her, his smile wide and brilliant. Well, that was nice, he told her with a little chuckle. And you performed beautifully as usual. In fact, you’re beautiful, you know that?

Raising her hands, she signed her response. And you’re crazy, coming over like this. What if I had another man here?

His chuckle turned to a hearty laugh. Oh, really? What would you do with him? Cook him dinner, ply him with liquor?

She shot up her middle finger, the universal sign for fuck-off. How dare he make assumptions, or even think she simply sat around here waiting for him and the little snippets of the time he deigned to give her!

He offered a conciliatory smile as his fingers quickly formed the words of his apology. Okay, okay. I know I take you for granted some times. I’m sorry for my insensitivity, and I’m sorry that I always seem to be running off somewhere. Like now. I have to get going if I’m going to make drinks and dinner.

She offered a thin smile, her lower lip trembling slightly. Okay, apology accepted. Now get out of here and leave me in peace! For emphasis, she slapped his arm hard enough to make him wince.

While he dressed, Maddy noticed the red light blinking on her table console across from the bed. That meant she had a telephone call via the TYY machine. She rose and went to her laptop to accept the call from Daniel Baumgard via the computer screen where they typed back and forth. He asked about the dedication, did she feel it went well?

Maddy typed back, Yes, I felt it went very well. We had excellent media coverage.

Good. We should get together though, and compare notes, discuss what we need to do next. Plus, there’s something I want to run by you. Could you meet me at the clinic tomorrow morning, say ten o’clock?

All right, Daniel. I’ll be there at ten. Is there anything I need to bring with me in terms of PR or marketing?

No, my dear, just come with your usual astute observations and suggestions.

When she signed off, Maddy turned and found her lover standing over her shoulder. He had caught the last two sentences.

What’s that about? he asked with his fingers.

She shook her head and signed, Nothing important.

This time he spoke