Truly Married (8 page)

“Then I’m sorry I didn’t send the letter,” she said, and quickly changed the subject. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get dressed so we can go to lunch.” She got up and went into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Fergus had put her overnight suitcase on the floor and laid the long dress bag across the unmade bed. She opened them and found a dress and a tailored pantsuit in the bag, and several changes of underwear, makeup, shoes, a pair of jeans and a knit shirt, and a nightgown and robe in the overnighter.

Good heavens, Anna must have thought she expected to stay there with Fergus for a while! Whatever made her think that? While it was more convenient last night, and Sharon appreciated his concern in giving up his bedroom to her, she was going to be sleeping in her own bed tonight.

That scene just now in the living room had scared her witless. When Fergus had kissed her fingers she’d wanted to melt into his arms, and when he’d cupped his cheek with her palm she’d had to restrain herself to keep from caressing it with her fingertips.

Obviously she was still highly susceptible to her ex-husband, and that would never do. It had taken her too long to get over him; she wasn’t going to give him another chance to reject her.

If only he wasn’t so damn nice!

She dressed quickly in the peach raw-silk pantsuit, then applied a touch of makeup and combed her hair. Her image in the mirror told her that she’d regained her natural rose color and lost the look of utter desolation that had been stamped on her face the night before.

That was good, because she had no intention of letting this experience beat her down. No matter what it cost her emotionally, she was going to accept Fergus’s offer to defend her, and do everything she could to help him.

* * *

They had lunch in the hotel restaurant, and although Fergus did ask Sharon questions, he steered clear of the subject of the murder and asked instead about her friends and co-workers.

“Now, tell me about your other lawyer, Ray Quinlan,” he said, after they’d exhausted the subject of her housemates, Anna and Tracey.

Sharon swallowed a mouthful of quiche and washed it down with a sip of hot tea. “Ray’s the son of our next-door neighbors. He doesn’t live with his parents, so I don’t know him very well. He just happened to be the only lawyer Anna and I knew at all, so I asked her to call him.”

Fergus frowned. “That’s not a very smart way to select an attorney who will be defending you on a murder charge,” he said grimly. “Where did he go to school, and how long has he been practicing?”

“He’s a native of St. Louis, and got his bachelor’s and his law degree from Washington University right here in town,” she said. “I met him when I moved next door to his parents four years ago. Ray was in his second year of law school then, and he graduated last year.”

Fergus’s expression was thunderous. “Are you telling me that you were willing to place your life in the hands of an attorney just out of law school? My God, Sharon, didn’t you learn anything about the law while you were married to me?”

“Very little,” she snapped as her temper escalated. “If you’ll remember, you didn’t want to talk about your work when you came home at night. When I’d ask you about it you always said we had more exciting things to do, and carried me off to bed.”

She hadn’t known what she was going to say until it was said, and then it was too late. The words hung in the air between them, and she felt the blood rush to her face while she watched it drain from his.

Embarrassment suffused her and left her immobilized, unable to speak or move. Dear Lord, what had she been thinking of?

But that was the problem—she hadn’t been thinking period. How could she have blurted out something so intimate to Fergus, who was not only no longer her husband, but apparently didn’t even remember how erotic and all-encompassing their lovemaking had been at one time?

For a long moment they sat in silence, neither of them able to pick up the conversation. Sharon couldn’t bring herself to look directly at Fergus, but she’d seen the shocked expression on his face, and in his unblinking eyes, before she’d glanced away.

She felt like a tacky, insensitive clod. How was she ever going to apologize and make him understand that she hadn’t deliberately planned to be so crude?

Before she could marshal her thoughts, Fergus spoke.

“You’re right, Sharon.” His tone was low and vibrant. “I did have better things to do than talk shop while I was married to you. Much better. So much better, in fact, that if I let myself think about those times now I won’t be able to concentrate on anything else, and that’s dangerous. For both your defense and my sanity.”

His words freed her from the clutch of humiliation that had held her mute and still, and she took an unsteady breath. “Oh, Fergus, I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t mean to say that. I wasn’t even thinking it.”

He shook his head. “It’s all right. I deserved it. I had no right to flare up at you the way I did. You and Anna did what most people would have done—you called on an attorney who was also a friend. Since I selfishly thought only of my own needs, when I should have taken the time to teach you about your rights under the law, you couldn’t have known all the intricacies of selecting the right lawyer to handle the charges against you.”

He took his napkin from his lap and tossed it on the table, then signaled the waiter for the check. “If you’re finished eating we’d better go back upstairs. I have a lot more questions to ask you.”

* * *

Back in the suite they settled themselves comfortably, Sharon on the couch and Fergus in the upholstered chair. They were still self-conscious because of her gaffe, but the embarrassment melted away as the interrogation progressed.

“Tell me all there is to know about your relationship with Floyd Vancleave, from the day you met until the time you were found bending over his body,” he said. “Don’t leave out anything, no matter how insignificant you may think it is.”

It took her a long time, and when she was finished they went over it again, then again, until Sharon was tired, upset and becoming angrier by the minute.

“Now, tell me again about the advances Vancleave made toward you,” he said for the second or third time. “Are you sure you didn’t encourage him?”

“Encourage him!” she shouted. “Damn it, Fergus, are you deaf? How many times do I have to tell you? The man was a chauvinist pig, and I’m getting tired of you insinuating that I was flirting with him. I don’t lead men on to tease them, and your insistence that I did that to Floyd is insulting.”

“Then you’d better get used to being insulted,” Fergus said grimly, “because if you’re indicted and go to trial the district attorney is going to use every trick he can think of to make the jury believe that’s exactly what you were doing.

“Now, let’s go over this again. I don’t want any nasty surprises when you get on the witness stand.”

So they continued all afternoon. Fergus probed, insinuated, even accused her of withholding information, while Sharon reached deeper into her memory and seethed at his callous disregard for her feelings.

* * *

Fergus hated what he was doing to her. Every time she winced or cried out in indignation at his offensive questions it was like a knife in his heart, but he couldn’t let up. He had to extract every bit of information she had, even what was buried deep in her subconscious.

The police would question her again before the arraignment, and although he’d be there this time to protect her as much as the law allowed, it could still get brutally savage. Also, he needed to test her breaking point. To see how far she could be pushed before she started fighting back and making herself more prone to errors in judgment as well as memory.

Fergus sincerely doubted that Sharon had ever had an enemy. She was sweet and kind, and liked by everyone she met. Unless he gave her a preview of what she would be subjected to by the D.A. in a court trial, she’d never hold up over the long run.

Damn that bastard Vancleave!
It enraged Fergus just to think about him putting his slimy hands on Sharon and making vulgar propositions to her. Fergus silently vowed that if the police ever caught up with whoever had killed the man, he, Fergus, would defend the guilty party without charge and aim for an acquittal. Or at least the lightest possible sentence.

Sharon’s endurance finally snapped late in the afternoon when he sank to a new low and asked her how many male employees of the hotel she’d slept with. He doubted the judge would allow her to answer a question like that, but that didn’t mean the D.A. wouldn’t ask it.

She came totally unglued. He happened to be standing at the time, and with a howl of indignation and rage, she sprang off the couch and hurled herself at him, arms swinging and feet kicking. She took him by surprise and landed several hard blows, all the time yelling denials and calling him names that questioned his parentage and his honor, before he managed to overpower her and pin her arms to her sides.

“Calm down, sweetheart,” he shouted over the noise she was making while she continued to struggle in his restraining embrace. “I don’t expect you to answer that question, but I had to ask it to see how you’d react.”

She stopped struggling and stiffened as she gaped at him, eyes wide. “How I’d react? How’d you think I’d react? No, don’t answer that. I’ll show you. You’re fired! You might as well pack up and go back to Chicago, because I wouldn’t let you defend me if you were the last lawyer on earth. I’d get the gas chamber for sure.”

Once more she started twisting and turning in his arms. “Let go of me, dammit!”

“I will,” Fergus assured her. “Just as soon as you cool down enough to listen to me. I had to know how you’d react under stress to that question when you weren’t expecting it, because in one form or another it’s going to be asked of you.”

Again she stopped squirming, and glared at him. “You wouldn’t,” she gasped.

“No, I wouldn’t, but the prosecution will,” he said through clenched teeth. “They have a strong case. You were seen going into the office in a huff, everyone in the waiting room heard you and Vancleave quarreling and just minutes later you were found bending over the body with the murder weapon in your hand.”

She slumped against him, and he released her and put a few feet of space between them. “All they need for a conviction is to show that you were capable of killing your boss in a fit of rage, and you did a good job of convincing a jury of that by the way you attacked me just now. If you react that way in court the prosecution sure as hell won’t let me get away with portraying you as a naively innocent young woman who was being unlawfully sexually harassed by this creep. Not without a fight, and believe me it will turn dirty.”

His harsh words hit Sharon like blows. How was it possible to be innocent and yet look so indisputably guilty?

“But, Fergus, I wasn’t there,” she said for what must have been the hundredth time. “I was gone for at least five minutes.”

He ran his fingers through his already disheveled dark hair. “I believe you, honey, but so far they haven’t turned up anyone who saw you while you were gone. If only you’d left through the outer office...”

She sighed. “I know, but I was so mad, and the nearest exit was out the glass doors. There were people out there by the pool. Surely one of them must have seen me.”

Fergus’s smile wasn’t very convincing as he said, “Someone did, that’s for sure. We’ll just keep looking till we find him or her. But meanwhile, you have to be prepared for some downright nasty questions from the D.A.—”

A sharp knock on the door interrupted him, and he looked at his watch. “That’ll be Ray Quinlan now. I asked him to come over this afternoon so we could get together on our strategy before the arraignment tomorrow.”

Fergus opened the door and greeted Sharon’s other attorney. He was a nice-looking man, about Sharon’s age, medium height and weight, with straw-colored hair and brown eyes. He wore a navy blue suit and had obviously just come from the office where he and a partner shared a fledgling law practice.

Ray spotted Sharon and walked across the room to put his arms around her. “Hi, angel,” he said huskily. “I’m so glad to see you out of that jailhouse. I’m just sorry I couldn’t get the judge to release you.”

She hugged him. “I know, Ray. You did the best you could.”

He grimaced. “Yeah, but it wasn’t good enough. I’m glad Anna had enough of her wits about her to call Fergus. Man! I understand he walked into that courtroom and had you released within minutes.”

“It wasn’t quite that easy,” Fergus said from behind them. “I had to give something to get something. Don’t forget, Sharon is in my custody now.”

She pulled out of Ray’s embrace and looked at Fergus. “Just what does that mean?” she asked. “Did you obligate yourself for something?”

He grinned. “Yeah, I sure did. From now on you and I are going to be
very
close, if you know what I mean.”

She felt both a thrill and a chill. Now what had she gotten herself into?

“No. I don’t know what you mean,” she said uncertainly. “Suppose you tell me.”

“I mean that I’m responsible for seeing to it that you don’t get into any more trouble, and that you show up for your court appearances.”

He winked suggestively. “That means I’m going to keep you close beside me from now until the trial is over.”

Chapter Five

T
his seemed to be Sharon’s day for emotional highs and lows. She was both elated and dismayed. Elated that Fergus was going to be with her for the next few weeks, but dismayed at the thought of the damage that could do to her already battered heart.

There was no future for Fergus and her. They were a part of the past, and he hadn’t loved her enough. Sharon couldn’t forget that, nor could she ever trust him with her deepest, most sensitive feelings again.

She’d resigned herself to the fact that he’d always be the love of her life, but she could live without that kind of love. It would be extremely difficult, though, if they were together for long periods of time. There must be another way.