Truly Married (16 page)

She’d missed him in ways he’d never believe. In ways she’d neither expected nor wanted to. She’d missed that curious blend of expensive shaving lotion and male scent that was so uniquely his. The one that was nearly her undoing when he’d clasped her in his arms outside on the lawn after she’d run out to meet him.

She’d missed that aura of protectiveness that wrapped her so securely in its cloak. In the five years that she’d been alone she’d learned not to need a man to lean on, but now she knew that she’d never learned not to need Fergus.

She was alarmingly certain that was one lesson she’d never master.

And most of all she’d missed
him.
His tender smile, his tough yet gentle hands, his green eyes, hooded but watchful, and his arms. Oh yes, his strong, sheltering arms that told her far more efficiently than words that she was a vulnerable woman who longed for his deep and undivided love.

But was he capable of giving that? He hadn’t been before, and she wasn’t capable of sharing his love with another woman.

“Are you anxious about tomorrow?” he asked. “You needn’t be. It’s just a hearing to determine if there’s enough evidence to go to trial.”

Apparently that was supposed to make her feel better, but in reality she was terrified. “So you’ve said, but could you give me some idea of what’s going to happen?”

She picked up her glass and headed for the living room. Fergus followed and they sat down together on the couch facing the fireplace.

“Will I have to testify?” she asked as she sipped her soda.

“No,” Fergus said. “The state will produce witnesses and I’ll cross-examine. I’m allowed to try to discredit their witnesses, but this is the district attorney’s show. We don’t present a defense at this time.”

“But...but that’s not fair!” she sputtered angrily.

Fergus took a large swallow of his drink. “I know it seems that way, but you don’t need to defend yourself until you’ve been charged with something. This is just another step in the justice system. The state doesn’t need to show proof of guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. All they have to show is probable cause. A reasonable suspicion that Vancleave was murdered and you did it.”

Sharon shrank against the back of the sofa. “And if the judge finds probable cause?”

Fergus set his glass down on the coffee table and looked at her. “Barring a miracle, he will, Sharon. You’d better accept that as fact. The case against you is too strong to find otherwise. You’ll be charged and bound over to superior court for trial.”

Even though she’d known that was likely to happen, the horror of Fergus’s words sent chills down her spine.

“But I didn’t do it!” she cried plaintively. “Why won’t anyone believe me? I wasn’t even there!”

Fergus reached out and gathered her into his embrace, warming her with his heat and his compassion. “I believe you, sweetheart,” he murmured as he trailed kisses in her hair. “I’ll find a way to make the jury believe you, too, but you will have to stand trial. There’s no way I can prevent that.”

Another terrifying thought crossed Sharon’s mind. “Do you think the charge will stick?”

“Not as long as I have a license to practice law,” he said grimly. “They’ll probably go for murder two, but I’m going to argue for involuntary manslaughter. That way, we can compromise on voluntary man.”

She shivered and forced herself to ask, “What is the sentence for that?”

Fergus tightened his arms around her. “It doesn’t matter, because I’m not going to let you be convicted. We’ll waive your right to a speedy trial so we’ll have time for a thorough investigation.”

She pushed back and looked at him. “But I want a speedy trial.”

He blinked in surprise. “No, honey, you don’t understand. We need all the time we can get to prepare a defense. The district attorney is the one who usually benefits from a speedy trial, while the witnesses are still sure of what they saw and heard. While the evidence is still fresh and the case is being tried in the press.”

She wasn’t getting through to him. “No, Fergus, you’re the one who doesn’t understand. My life has been put on hold until this mess is settled. I can’t work, I can’t leave town, some of my friends think I’m guilty. I won’t live like this. I need to be exonerated.”

His demeanor changed to that of a man trying to reason with a child. “Of course you do, but a speedy trial isn’t the way to do it. I won’t let you put yourself in jeopardy just because the waiting is unpleasant and you’re impatient.”

He hesitated, then continued. “Surely I don’t have to remind you what it’s like in jail? Well, prison is a hell of a lot worse.”

Sharon shivered, and Fergus again cradled her against him. “I’m sorry,” he said gently. “I hate having to scare you into anything, but you’ve got to be realistic. Right now our case is practically nonexistent. We need to find someone who saw you leave Vancleave’s office. There were people in the pool area, but it may take a long time to find them. Guests at a hotel usually don’t stay long. Ray has gotten access to a list of guests who were registered at the time of the murder, but so far he hasn’t found anyone who was out at the pool on the morning in question.”

She was torn between fear of conviction and frustration at the limitations placed on her until this was settled. “I don’t know,” she said mournfully against his hard-muscled chest. “I’ll have to think about it.”

He caressed her back with his hand. “Do that,” he agreed reluctantly, “but you’ll have to let me know before we go into court in the morning. If you’re bound over they’ll set a date for the trial at that time.”

* * *

Sharon slept fitfully that night. Her mind kept twisting and turning, wrestling with the dilemma of her own making. She trusted Fergus completely on this issue, but even if she hadn’t his argument would have made sense. He needed all the time he could get to prepare a defense. The evidence was all stacked against her, and just the thought of going to prison made her break out in a cold sweat.

So why couldn’t she give him free rein to postpone the trial as long as possible? Her stubbornness was making his job much more difficult, and it was so unnecessary. Why couldn’t she just let him handle things the way he’d been trained to do?

It sounded so simple, but how could she survive for a year or more in this purgatory of suspense and degradation? She was a virtual prisoner, even though the bars were invisible, and how long would the hotel keep paying her a salary not to work? She doubted that even Fergus could compel them past a certain length of time.

Then what would she do? No one would hire her with a charge of murder hanging over her head. The newspapers were eagerly printing every bit of fact or fiction pertinent to the case, complete with pictures, and their readers were gleefully taking sides. One faction thought she should rot in prison for killing her boss in an angry rage. The other faction proclaimed that she’d struck a blow for women’s liberation and deserved sainthood.

But both sides never doubted that she was guilty!

When it became obvious that she wasn’t going to fall asleep until she stopped worrying about that she tried to focus on a different subject. Unfortunately her mind flip-flopped over into even more dangerous territory. The fact that Fergus was sleeping just across the hall from her!

A picture of his slender, but muscular, body lying naked and relaxed in sleep between the crisp brown sheets sent prickles of passion to her core. It would be so easy for her to go to him, climb into his bed and take refuge in his arms, in the delicious oblivion of his lovemaking. She knew he’d welcome her. He’d made no secret of his desire for her, and God knows, she was burning with fever for him.

Their lovemaking had always been glorious. They’d had only to climb into bed at night and curl up together to ignite the flame that consumed them. It never failed to happen, and that’s why it had been such a gut-wrenching shock to her when she was confronted with the fact that Fergus was involved with another woman.

Her heat cooled and she pounded her pillow in frustration. Damn him! How dared he toy with her that way! He’d taught her the enchantment of ecstasy, then left her bereft and alone.

When she finally fell asleep she had strange and frightening dreams that left her dispirited and sad when she awakened the following morning, even though she couldn’t remember the content of them.

* * *

The preliminary hearing was set for ten o’clock that Wednesday morning, but Sharon was awake and out of bed by five-thirty. She pulled a lavender-and-white checked cotton robe on over her nightgown, then brushed her teeth and made halfhearted passes at her hair with a comb. A glance in the mirror at her drawn face and bloodshot eyes made her wince, but what the hell? No one would expect her to look like a cover girl when she appeared in court as a murder suspect.

At least it was plain to her now what she was going to do about setting a time for the trial. Although she wasn’t conscious of having come to a decision during the night, this morning she knew that her only choice was to get it over with as quickly as possible so she could send Fergus Lachlan back to Chicago and get him out of her life.

His brand of loving had nearly destroyed her once. She wasn’t going to give him a second try at it, but the longer they were together the more difficult it was to remember that.

She’d thought she was the only one stirring so far, but halfway down the stairs she was met by the aroma of coffee and bacon. Anna hadn’t mentioned having to go to work early, but business hours in real estate were pretty erratic.

When Sharon got to the kitchen she found Fergus breaking eggs into a skillet. For some reason she hadn’t considered that it might be him, and his presence startled her. She wondered if he’d been unable to sleep, too.

He heard her and turned around. “Sharon, what are you doing up so early?”

He looked more closely at her. “Did you get any sleep at all?” he asked.

She shook her head. His compassionate tone melted her bones, but she kept her distance. “Not much, and when I did I had bad dreams. I didn’t hear you leave your room. I thought you were still in bed.”

“I didn’t sleep very well, either, but I usually get up about this time.”

“You didn’t use to,” she blurted, then wished she’d bitten her tongue, instead.

“That’s because I had you in bed with me,” he said simply.

The longing that coursed through her made her gasp. “Dammit, Fergus—”

He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, I’m sorry,” he said, and turned his attention back to his eggs. “Are you afraid of what’s going to happen today? Is that why you couldn’t sleep?”

Yeah, Sharon, go ahead and tell him why you couldn’t sleep. Tell him it was because you were lusting for him, and see how long it takes him to get you back upstairs and into his bed.

“I...I guess so,” she said instead, “but I did come to a decision about the trial date. I’m sorry, Fergus, I know it’s going to put a lot of pressure on you, but please tell the judge I want a speedy trial.”

He whirled around, shocked. “Sharon, are you sure? Why are you in such an all-fired hurry? You’re too bright not to understand the risk as I’ve explained it.” His tone was brusque.

“You’re right, I do understand,” she told him, “and I apologize for being so difficult, but I need to get on with my life. I can’t live in a perpetual cloud of suspicion and frustration. All I did was yell at Floyd Vancleave, tell him what a bastard he was and then leave.”

“And that’s the crux of the problem,” Fergus snapped as he turned back to the stove and shut off the heat under the skillet. “Everyone in the reception area saw you storm into his office unannounced and heard you shouting at him, but then you went out the back door, so none of them saw you leave. Minutes later when the receptionist went in she saw you bending over his corpse with a knife in your hand, dripping blood.”

He turned around and ran his hand through his hair in a gesture of irritation. “No responsible juror is going to acquit you unless we either find the real murderer or a witness who saw you outside the building when Vancleave was killed, and that’s going to take time.”

He turned his back on her once more to move the skillet from the hot burner to a cool one, then walked across the room to where she stood by the table. “Don’t do this to me, Sharon,” he pleaded. “Don’t deliberately tie my hands. I’d never forgive myself if a jury found you guilty. Please, work with me, not against me.”

Chapter Nine

T
he news media were waiting for Fergus and Sharon as they approached the courthouse. Cameras clicked and microphones were shoved at them as reporters yelled questions and jostled to get closer, impeding their progress.

Fergus had warned Sharon this would happen and had instructed her on how it should be handled, but even though she thought she was prepared, it was a frightening experience. She’d never been the center of so much howling attention before, and it all merged into an undecipherable roar. Fergus tucked her arm through his and pushed their way through the wall of bodies with a terse “No comment” to shouted questions.

Sharon, following his orders, kept her head down and her mouth shut. He had selected the celery-colored business suit she was wearing, a well-tailored outfit that was stylish but not eye-catching or sexy.

“You’ll make a better general impression if you’re neither too beautiful nor too confident,” he’d explained. “A jury is mostly made up of middle-class working people who will find it difficult to empathize with you if you look like a beauty queen or a chairman of the board. The same goes for the reporters and the TV audience.”

In spite of her nervousness, Sharon hadn’t been able to quell a chuckle. “In other words, you don’t care for this suit?”

Fergus had smiled and winked. “Right,” he’d said, then sobered. “If this case goes to trial the jurors will be people who have watched you on television, so you’ll have to be careful of your image from now on.”

That pronouncement had depressed her then, and it continued to do so as she stifled her natural inclination to look her best and speak her mind. At least now she knew she was right to insist on a speedy trial. She was innocent and she’d go out of her mind if she had to play games with the public for a year or two!