Well, at long last TnT have finally reached the promised land. Or have they? While it is nice to finally have them together again, exterior forces are threatening their newfound trust in each other. As you read the first few chapters of this series, many of you will think it is misnamed. TnT’s experiences will hardly bring paradise to mind. But even though their enemies conspire to tear them apart, they are finally on the same wavelength—working together to make sure that their hard won future is not snatched from their grasp.

Todd’s dreaded past again reaches out its ugly tentacles to ensnare him and Tea must make some difficult choices in her attempts to help him. As they seek to avoid the same traps that shredded their relationship in the past, Todd and Téa will both take risks they’ve never dared before. No, things will not be heavenly for our favorite couple, but this time they tackle their problems together, with a little help from some surprising allies.

But, above all, I caution my readers to keep the title of this series in mind when things seem to spiral out of control. TnT have that special bond that allows them to find their own nirvana, no matter how bleak things may seem. So, hang in there along with TnT as this story draws to a close, and like them, you may just get a tiny glimpse of paradise.

MCW

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PREVIOUSLY

“They’re trying to frame me, Delgado,” he said with a catch in his voice.

“They can’t do it without hard evidence, Todd, so just cooperate and answer their stupid questions.” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

“You’ll come with me?”

“Yes, I’m with you all the way.”

Sykes snorted. “We’ll see about that once you’ve heard the new evidence, Counselor. Something tells me you’re going to be feeling like a fool again, just like you were when I had to pick up the pieces after this lowlife left you broken by his lies.” Téa glared at him through narrowed eyes. Grabbing her sweater and purse, she took Todd by the arm and walked with him through the door, followed closely by Sykes and the cops.

A cloud covered the sun, plunging the deserted apartment into gloom. The rumble of an approaching thunderstorm echoed ominously around the deserted rooms, as the pile of treasures from the Apple Festival remained where they had been dropped, completely forgotten.

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As Todd and Téa followed Sykes and the cops into the squad room of the Llanview PD, they were surprised by a pack of ravenous reporters, hungry for a story. The hapless couple was quickly surrounded as cameras clicked and TV lights blinded them. Todd tried to shield Téa as best he could, as Sykes looked on with a malicious grin of satisfaction on his face.

“Mr. Manning! Are you the suspect in the Chicago child murder?”

“Will former ADA Delgado be defending you in the case?”

“The victim was found buried in the backyard of your childhood home, correct?”

Todd held his hand up against the barrage of questions, glaring in defiance at the reporters and repeatedly shouting “No comment!” Suddenly his eyes locked on a pair of shocked green ones belonging to his ex-wife, Blair. Pushing several people aside, he reached out and grabbed her by the hand, roughly pulling her to the side. “What’s going on?” he spat.

“We…we got an anonymous tip about an hour ago that the cops had nabbed a suspected child murderer wanted by the Chicago police,” shouted Blair directly into his ear so as to be heard over the shouting hoard. “Eric sent me out on the call, but we had no idea that it was you.” She stared at him in a stupor, her eyes wide.

“I’m no murderer, Blair. I’m being framed.” She nodded slightly, looking confused.

“Well, are you giving your own paper exclusive rights to the story, Todd, or would you care to make a statement for all of us. On the record, of course.” Todd stiffened at the sound of the smug voice behind him. Taking a deep breath, he faced the satisfied smirk of his nephew and former fraternity brother, Kevin Buchanan.

“Sure, I’ll give you a statement, Kev,” said Todd, seething with anger.

“Todd, no!” cried Téa tugging on his arm. “Don’t say anything to the press!” Ignoring her, Todd stepped up so he was nose to nose with the shorter Kevin.

“Here’s the comment, Kev, so get your recorder ready,” he growled, his eyes like flint. He leaned even closer. “You can kiss my ass, you little weasel!” Kevin’s eyes hardened as he clicked off the machine.

“Kevin, c’mon!” cried Joey Buchanan pulling on his older brother’s sleeve, his camera hanging around his neck unused. “You know Mom wouldn’t be happy about this. She didn’t know this involved Todd when she sent us down here to cover the story.”

“Listen to your brother, Kevin. He’s right,” said Viki, her formidable presence parting the crowd like butter. The rest of the press mob quieted, their pencils poised to record what Llanview’s grande dame had to say about her wayward younger brother. Her daughter Jessica followed along in her wake, looking with concern from her mother, to her uncle and over to her brothers. Without hesitation, Viki marched forward and embraced Todd as a few cameras clicked. In spite of his usual reservations about public displays of affection, Todd found himself hugging her back. “My brother did not do this terrible thing, and you can quote me,” she said forcefully to the mob.

“Mom! How can you fall for his act again!” cried Kevin, flinging out his arms in exasperation. “It fits so well! Last year, he faked DID to avoid prison, lying his head off. He hurt you badly, Mom, have you forgotten that?”

“No, Kevin, I haven’t forgotten,” said Viki, trying to keep the conversation private, in spite of the curious audience. “But I understand why he did it now, and I know he would never lie to me again.”

“How can you be so naïve!” shouted Kevin. “Obviously he made up some fake ‘recovered memory’ to cover up another crime.” Viki’s blue eyes flashed in anger.

“How dare you, Kevin!” she cried, tears of rage in her eyes. “How dare you make a mockery of his pain, what he went through! I was there in Bo’s office, remember? There is no way I will ever be convinced that his recovered memory was anything but genuine.” Interested reporters jotted down her comments, and a few of them began to fling questions at the respected publisher. Through it all, John Sykes stood on the periphery of the crowd, making no effort to curb their questions or move them away from the suspect.

“I’m sorry, ladies and gentlemen,” said a forceful voice from the back. “But I’m afraid my client will be making no further statements today, and neither will any member of his family.” Sam Rappaport stepped forward, protectively shielding Todd, Téa and Viki from the salivating mob. He looked a little disheveled, but he instantly commanded respect. The reporters’ shouts subsided to a low roar.

“What’s the matter, Rappaport?” boomed a voice louder than all the others from the back of the pack. “Your boy got something to hide?” Asa Buchanan strolled forward, a forbidden lit cigar clenched tightly in his teeth. He pulled it from his lips and blew smoke contemptuously in the direction of the lawyer and his client.

“Grandpa!” said Jessica in surprise. The old man startled, visibly taken back by the presence of his only granddaughter. He nervously looked around for an ashtray to put out the cigar.

“Look, Jessie, Honey,” he said apologetically. “I wasn’t really smoking, just holding it in my mouth for comfort. There’s no need to go telling your Grandma Renee about one little old cigar now, is there?”

“I don’t care about the cigar, Grandpa, but you shouldn’t make judgments about my Uncle Todd. I believe him and he didn’t hurt that girl. She was his friend.”

Todd stared at his niece, tears beginning to prick at his eyes. They were standing by him. His family was standing by him, in spite of all the lies he had told them in the past. They believed him. He glanced at Téa, and noticed a hard, determined look on her face. She locked eyes with John Sykes. If looks could kill…

“What the hell is going on in my squad room?” shouted a familiar voice and all heads snapped in his direction. Commissioner Bo Buchanan planted himself a short distance away, fists on his hips, and a scowl on his face. He turned to his second in command. “John, you want to explain this circus?”

“Uh, yes, Commissioner,” said Sykes smoothly. “We brought in a suspect for questioning, but apparently there was a leak to the press, because this rabble was waiting for us. I’ll have them removed.” He signaled to a couple of uniformed cops, who began directing the reporters to the waiting area across the room. Kevin and Blair lingered, apparently considering their family connections separate from their job. Bo stared at Sykes, his eyes narrowing slightly. Something about this did not smell right. The tall detective hurried across the room to greet some new arrivals. Meanwhile, the commissioner had his hands full as he was immediately confronted by Sam, Téa, and Viki, all of whom demanded an explanation for Todd being brought in.

Sykes nonchalantly glanced around the squad room, making sure there was no way they could be overheard. “Well, gentlemen,” he said to his two companions in a low voice. “I trust you were satisfied with the contents of the overnight express packages you received today.”

A big, beefy man dressed in ill-fitting clothes guffawed a little too loudly. “Yeah, Johnny Boy! It was just swell. But where did you come up with that kind of dough? The congressman was loaded, but even he couldn’t…”

Sykes cut him off. “Let’s just say a certain well-heeled gentleman here in Llanview has a vested interest in seeing Manning out of the way, and he’s willing to pay to make sure that happens.”

The other visitor, a balding middle-aged man of medium height and a slight build, pulled at his collar nervously. “As long as he knows how to keep his mouth shut.”

“Look, Greg, I hope you’re not getting cold feet,” said Sykes with a pleasant smile on his face for the benefit of any casual observers. “Because you’ve not only been well paid; you have plenty to lose if things go wrong.” The man blanched.

“You said no one would find out!” the man sputtered. Sykes slapped him on the back companionably.

“And no one will, as long as this goes down the way I want. Do we understand each other?” The two men nodded. The fat one fumbled in a briefcase and handed over a file. Sykes flipped through it, his protruding eyes shining with an unholy light. He looked up, snapping the file closed and handing it back. “That ought to do nicely,” he said with a tiny smirk. “Well, shall we get started?”

“Pa, what are you doing here?” asked Bo in exasperation. He had finally returned his squad room to a semblance of normalcy.

Asa gestured wildly with his cigar. “What? I heard that scum Manning was finally going down and I wanted to be here to see it.”

“Where did you hear that?” asked Bo, glancing around his father’s shoulder. Todd and Téa had their heads together with Sam. As Todd glanced toward him with furious eyes, Bo looked away quickly.

Asa shrugged, putting the cigar back between his lips. “You know, that John Sykes really has a good head on his shoulders. You should think about giving that boy some more responsibilities, Bo.” The commissioner grimaced as his father sauntered off to trade a word with Kevin.

“Um, excuse me for interrupting, Bo, but there are some detectives here from Chicago that I think you should meet.” Sykes quickly pushed the two men forward. “Detective Greg Hamly and Lieutenant Daniel Quilici of the 141st Precinct, Chicago Police,” said Sykes, making the introductions. Bo shook hands warily with the detectives, looking them over closely.

“What’s this all about, gentlemen?” he asked in a neutral tone.

“New evidence in the Michelle Phelps case has recently come to light,” answered Quilici as he smoothed his mustache. “An eye witness. We want to talk to Manning about it.”

Bo crossed his arms over his chest. “And you couldn’t have the simple decency to give me a head’s up?” he asked in annoyance.

Sykes stepped in. “I’m afraid that’s my fault, Bo,” he said smoothly. “They called this morning and you were out. I looked for you later, but we must have missed each other.” Bo looked like he would like to pursue that matter further, but Sam Rappaport approached the group. He again wanted to know the reason his client was brought to the police station, and threatened harassment suits if there was no just cause. Seeing he had no choice in the matter, Bo led the way to an interrogation room, and helped the detectives set up for recording.

At first the Chicago cops wanted to exclude all of Todd’s supporters except his attorney, Sam. But after a fiery display by Téa, which included pulling out her credentials as a lawyer, they agreed to let her remain during the questioning. Todd looked at her gratefully. Bo insisted on being present, as the chief of local law enforcement, but to the surprise of all, he excluded John Sykes. The tall detective narrowed his eyes in anger, but he couldn’t think of a quick enough excuse and left with an unsettling glare at the occupants of the room. Todd paced around the room, cursing the policemen and insisting their desire to question him was nothing but pure harassment. Sam and Téa finally succeeded in getting him to sit down after several threats by the cops to lock him up if he didn’t cool down.

The Chicago detectives pulled out several documents as they began the interrogation. They started by reviewing Todd’s original statement detailing the events of the night of his fourteenth birthday. They asked if he still stood by that story. Todd answered in the affirmative, and the two detectives exchanged a glance.

“Mr. Manning, are you acquainted with a Mrs. Henrietta Brown?” Todd scowled at them, but seemed to be considering the question.

“No, I don’t think so….wait…Hattie? Hattie Brown? Our housekeeper?” The detectives remained impassive, and Todd settled back into his seat. “I haven’t thought about her in years.” Something hardened behind his eyes. “Yeah, she hated me, just like all the other household workers. My old man made sure of that.”

“Was Mrs. Brown present at your home any time on January 2, 1984?”

“I don’t know, you idiot! That was over fifteen years ago!” Todd took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. Reading the detectives, Sam instructed him to think hard and answer if he could. Throwing his hands out in exasperation, Todd added, “She usually made our breakfast in the mornings.”

“Was she present that day when you returned home from school in the afternoon?”

Todd sat back. He pulled nervously at his fingers. “No. I remember my dad gave her the day off. He wanted to make sure that she wouldn’t suddenly get all warm and fuzzy and bake me a birthday cake or plan a party or anything like that.” He slapped his palms against the table. “Right. Like that would ever happen. The only thing she ever did for me was show me the back of her hand when I had the audacity to enter the kitchen,” he said bitterly. Her eyes full, Téa reached out a hand and stroked along his forearm, calming him. “What’s this about? Who the hell gives a damn about some old broad I haven’t seen in years?” The two detectives exchanged smug glances and pushed a file folder across the table. Sam snatched it up and began leafing through it.

“Bad news for you, Manning,” said Hamly in an insulting tone. “Because Mrs. Brown gives a damn about you. Seems she’s ill—dying in fact—and she wants to clear her conscience before she goes. That’s a copy of her statement. In it, she tells how she returned to your home at around 5:30pm and heard a commotion in the entry hall. She peeped through the door from the kitchen, and guess what she saw? You, Manning. You were arguing with your girlfriend. She didn’t want to put out. And before Mrs. Brown could say or do anything, you picked up a baseball bat and bashed poor little Michelle’s brains in.”

Todd exploded to his feet. “That’ a lie!” he shouted, banging his fists on the table. “There is nothing you cops won’t do to put me away! You got to that old lady somehow!” Téa went white as a ghost. She bit her lip, staring at the file Sam was reading and glancing back and forth between the detectives, as though trying to figure them out. Bo was also reading a copy of Mrs. Brown’s statement. He glanced up at the enraged suspect, remembering the afternoon when Todd had told him about his version of events the night of the murder. After many years on the police force, he could read a perp with the best of them, and he would have sworn Todd had told the truth that June day in his office. Something about this lady’s statement seemed off.

“Sit down, Manning,” he growled at Todd, still thinking. Sam also tried to soothe his client, although Todd was very agitated.

“They’re trying to frame me, Coach!” he shouted.

“Todd, we’ll get to the bottom of this,” said Sam. “But I need you to stay calm, Pal.” Téa reached out a hand and drew Todd into his seat, gently stroking his back in an effort to settle him down. He was still breathing hard.

Lieutenant Quilici looked down, consulting the printed statement in front of him. “Your father, Peter Manning arrived home at that moment, and found you hovering over the body. Mrs. Brown was afraid of what he might do if he discovered she was a witness to the murder, so she kept her presence a secret. She hid while you and your father buried the body in the yard, then slipped quietly away.” He looked up at Todd with a satisfied smirk. Todd glared back at him, clenching and unclenching his fists on the tabletop.

“All lies,” he choked out. Bo watched him thoughtfully.

“Mrs. Brown thought about reporting the murder to the police, but apparently fear for her family kept her silent. She was worried you or your father would take revenge, Manning. But now she wants to die knowing justice was done. She wants peace.” Todd snorted in disgust, while Téa bit her lip, looking upset. “Let’s put it this way: an eyewitness to a crime is good as gold. Coupled with the forensic evidence of your fingerprints on the murder weapon, we have enough to put you away. Now, do you care to revise your statement? It could go easier…”

“Take your phony statement and shove it up your ass!” cried Todd, jumping to his feet. He looked down at Téa, who was staring at him with wide eyes, her lip trembling. “Oh God!” he thought. “She’s buying this! Delgado thinks I’m a murderer!” Completely undone by fear, he flung her hand away when she reached out to him. She looked at him with shock and confusion in her eyes.

“All right, that’s it,” said Quilici in a business-like tone as he gathered up his papers. “We have enough to hold him while we request extradition, Commissioner, so get your boys in here now. We want him locked up.”

“No!” chorused Sam and Téa, as Todd tensed every muscle. He wasn’t going to take this without a fight. His lawyers quickly began talking over one another as they wracked their brains for any argument that would buy them a little time.

“Quiet!” shouted Bo slapping his hands on the table loudly. His tone of voice let everyone know he would tolerate no disobedience from any of the parties in the room. “Good,” he said when he had everyone’s attention. He turned toward the Chicago cops. “Last time I looked, Detectives, you still needed a warrant to arrest someone in this state. I assume the same is true in Illinois.”

Quilici and Hamly looked flustered. “We have probable cause, that’s good enough…”

“No, it’s not, gentleman,” said Bo forcefully. “Not in my jurisdiction it isn’t. So until you produce a warrant, he goes free.” Todd stared at the commissioner in shock. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Sam and Téa were equally surprised.

“Look, Commissioner,” said Quilici, feigning friendliness. “I’ve seen his record. He’s given you plenty of trouble in the past, and he’s a flight risk. I know you wouldn’t protect a lowlife like that. We’ll have no trouble getting the warrant once we present the evidence, and he’ll be extradited for sure. We just want to make sure he doesn’t disappear on us.”

“We’ll keep an eye on him, but he walks,” said Bo forcefully. The detectives blustered and complained, but Bo was immovable. Todd couldn’t believe Bo wasn’t jumping at the chance to lock him up, but he wasn’t about to wait around for him to change his mind.

“I’m out of here,” he said in a low growl, and Sam and Téa quickly stood up to accompany him.

“Don’t leave the city, Manning,” warned Bo, and Todd nodded assent as he flung open the door. John Sykes was hovering just outside. He quickly glanced down at some papers in his hands, pretending to look busy. Todd’s eyes narrowed in hostility.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Syko my man,” said Todd contemptuously. “But your little plan didn’t work. I’m a free man.”

“A legal loophole, Manning,” said Sykes, making no bones about the fact that he had been eavesdropping. “One that will be closed before morning.” He looked back at Téa, an insulting leer on his face. “So, Counselor? Do you need me to say, ‘I told you so?’ I warned you and you wouldn’t listen, but now there is indisputable evidence. Todd Manning is a murderer and he’s going down for the crime. Get out now before he takes you down with him.” Todd stepped forward, clenching his fists with narrowed eyes. Sam quickly grabbed him by the arm and yanked him away.

“Don’t do it,” he whispered to his client. “He’ll nail you for assault.” He held on to Todd for a moment, waiting until he felt him relax before he released him. With a deep breath, Todd stalked away, glaring with hatred at the tall detective. Sam followed, but Téa hesitated a moment, looking at Sykes with a question in her eyes.

“What’s the matter, Téa?” he asked in a low voice. “The facts don’t lie. You’ve prosecuted enough cases to know that this one is airtight. You’ve thrown your life away for a murdering, lying piece of slime.” Todd stopped at the door and turned around. He saw Téa with Sykes and his heart sank. She believed that nutcase and not him.

“You coming Delgado?” he asked, holding his breath. Téa looked toward him, and hesitated a moment. Todd put his hands in his pockets, feigning indifference. He didn’t want anyone to notice that his hands were shaking. Téa looked back and forth between Todd and Sykes, tears visible in her eyes. Then, slowly, she turned away from the tall detective, and slowly followed Todd. As soon as he saw that she was coming with him, Todd turned on his heel and stalked out of the squad room.

“A moment of your time, please Detective,” said Bo in a barely controlled voice, beckoning Sykes into the interrogation room. His underling ignored him as he watched Téa leave the room with her head down.

“Of course,” said Sykes brightly as he pushed past Bo and joined the others in the small cubicle. Making sure he wasn’t observed, the commissioner leaned against the wall for a moment, rubbing his temples. With a sigh of resignation, he slowly entered the room and closed the door.

Outside on the sidewalk in front of the station, Todd took deep breaths of the cool night air, willing his pulse to return to normal. Gradually, he became aware of the fact that Téa had joined him and was quietly sniffling at his side. Quick as a snake, Todd lunged for her, grabbing her upper arms and turning her forcefully toward him.

“So, Delgado,” he said in a dangerously quiet voice. “Do you think I’m a murderer?”

TO BE CONTINUED

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