TRIALS OF THE HEART - PART EIGHTEEN

CONTINUED...

"No, it's a promise."
"Hey, Pal, give it a rest, will you?" said Sam, looking worried.
"Mr. Manning, your limo is waiting in the alley," announced a young policeman, diffusing the tension. "I took the liberty of calling your chauffeur," said Sam. With a last glare at the commissioner, Todd left by the side entrance of the building, followed by his attorney.
Bo looked after his nemesis, an unreadable expression on his face. He thought back to a few nights before, when halfway across the squad room, he had remembered that he had left the confidential file on his desk with Blair in the room. Telling Ryan that he would catch up to him, he had turned back. Some inner voice had caused him to open the door just a crack and peep at Blair as she looked through the file. Thinking about it now, he realized he would probably never know what force within himself made him close the door quietly and just walk away. "Well, for better or worse, Manning is free again," he said to himself. He had to admit that things were better between him and Nora, in spite of Rachel's situation. His wife had confessed to pushing him away in order to protect her daughter, and she seemed willing, finally, to accept his help. Although they had a long way to go, Bo was reasonably confident that their love would prevail and that they could once again find that unique attraction that had kept them together for all these years. He wasn't too worried that Blair would talk and reveal where she had found the information that had implicated Rachel. She could lose her contacts in the police department and even her freedom if it could be proved she tampered with police evidence. She might try blackmail at a later date, but Bo was pretty sure he could handle her in that case.
He grabbed his coat. "Ryan, page me if you need me."
"Where are you going, Commissioner?" asked the young officer.
"Home, Ryan," he said. "I'm going home to my wife."

"Congratulations, Mr. Manning," said Fred the chauffeur, as Todd nodded to him. He stopped with one foot already inside the long, sleek black car, and turned to Sam.
"I can never repay you for what you did for me, Coach," said Todd, suddenly looking like the fourteen-year-old boy that Sam remembered. The attorney smiled.
"You haven't seen my bill yet, Boomer," he said playfully. But he couldn't resist feeling a bit of paternal pride, and he stepped forward to hug his protégé for at least the fifth time that day. Sam gave him the thumbs up sign as Todd slipped into the back seat and settled into the soft upholstery. Sam was about to slam the door shut, when he stuck his head inside. He held up the double "T" pendant. "You might want this. I had the clasp repaired." Todd took it in silence and gazed at it solemnly. As the car pulled away from the police station, he watched the site of his latest ordeal recede into the distance.
"To the penthouse, Mr. Manning?" asked Fred.
"No, Fred. We're headed for New York City," he said decisively. He pulled the tie through his shirt collar, rolled down the car window and let the expensive strip of silk float away on the breeze. Drinking in the sights of Llanview as the limo purred toward the expressway, he mumbled, "Get ready, Delgado, because I'm coming to bring you home, and I won't take no for an answer."

TO BE CONTINUED