Detective Matheson reached for Billie’s hand. “She’s in a holding cell at the moment.” She didn’t immediately release Billie’s hand.
Billie took a moment to study the detective, who had a death grip on her hand. Detective Matheson was a beauty, with long auburn hair, green eyes, and a deep cleft in her chin, all complemented by a peaches-and-cream Irish complexion. Billie’s attention was drawn to their clasped hands, and she realized where the detective’s intentions lay. She pulled her hand out of the woman’s grasp. “I want to see my wife, Detective.”
Matheson walked a circle around Billie. “Yes, in a moment. First I have some questions for you. Please sit down.” She indicated the chair Billie had just vacated.
Billie sat.
Matheson pulled out a chair and sat in front of Billie. She crossed her legs and leaned forward, showing her ample cleavage. She tilted her head to one side.
Oh, you’re good! Time to teach this rookie a lesson. Billie also leaned forward and smiled into the woman’s face.
“Tell me, Ms. Charland,” Detective Matheson said.
“Billie, call me Billie.”
“Billie. Yes. Tell me, is your wife always this violent?”
“Only in bed.” Billie pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth.
Matheson gulped. “Really?”
“Oh, yeah.” Billie wiggled her eyebrows for emphasis. “How do you think I got these bruises?”
Matheson rose and walked around to stand behind her own chair. Billie sat back and crossed her legs. She rested her forearms on the arms of the chair and tilted her chin down toward her chest so that she had to glance up at the detective through her eyelashes. Billie’s skirt had risen to mid-thigh and exposed a mile of skin. Billie could see a bead of sweat form on her upper lip.
“What is your relationship to Brian Charland?”
“He’s my ex-husband, father of my son, creator of my worst nightmares. Why do you ask?”
“I’m just trying to figure out why your wife would attack him. His police record says he raped her, but that was nearly five years ago, so I can’t imagine that being her motive.”
Billie rose and approached the detective, backing her up against the wall. In two-inch heels, Billie had a good five inches on her in height. “Well, if you’re through with your little seduction attempt, let me see her and I might be able to help you with that question.”
A deep blush colored Matheson’s cheeks. She slipped out from between Billie and the wall. “Follow me. I’ll take you to her.”
Billie stepped into the holding cell and heard the door close and lock behind her. She leaned back against the bars and crossed her arms and ankles. Cat sat on the cot on the far side of the room, her hands folded in her lap. Her gaze met Billie’s. Billie could see the anger smoldering in her eyes.
“Want to tell me what happened?” Billie asked.
Cat grimaced and shook her head. She lowered her gaze to the floor.
Billie opened her arms wide. “Come here.”
Cat walked into Billie’s embrace and wrapped her arms around her. Billie held her close. “Are you all right?”
“They took my wedding rings,” Cat said.
“Huh?”
“They took my rings. They took everything—my watch, my earrings, my wallet.”
Billie cupped Cat’s face with her palm. “That’s standard procedure. You’ll get them back when we leave.”
“I promised I’d never take them off. Damn them.”
“It’s okay. Right now we have more pressing matters to take care of. What possessed you to attack Brian?”
Cat pulled out of Billie’s embrace and walked to the other side of the cell, arranging the bangs on her forehead with her hand as she went. She stopped and pivoted back toward Billie. “I’m sick of his shit. First the photos, then the letter.”
“The letter? What letter?”
“We received a letter today, addressed to me. They took that from me too.”
Billie pulled Cat over to the cot and sat down with her. “What did it say?”
“It was awful. He made several references to our ‘sick kind of love’ and about us settling for each other because we couldn’t keep a man satisfied. He even mentioned writing to the editor of the paper about how we’re living in sin and raising children in an environment filled with evil lust. That was the final straw.” Cat jumped to her feet and paced back and forth. “I will not stand by and let him blemish our name or harm our kids.”
“So you decided to just waltz into the prison and put an end to it?”
Cat marched over to Billie and shook a finger in her face. “Don’t you talk to me in that tone. You’d have done the same thing. Don’t you dare deny it.”
Billie stared at her wide-eyed. She hated to admit it, but Cat was right. She would indeed have done the same thing.
Billie walked to the door and leaned her back against it. “So what happened at the prison?”
“They escorted me to a visitor’s room and went to get Brian. He was so smug when he came in, I just wanted to scratch his eyes out right there and then. We sat down at the table across from each other. My skin crawled just being that close to him. I wanted to puke.”
“So why did they arrest you?”
“I asked Brian to stop harassing us, and he acted ignorant about the whole thing. I told him I didn’t appreciate the pictures he sent, nor the letter. He just laughed in my face and said, ‘You reap what you sow, bitch.’ He was so smug and arrogant, I couldn’t take it any longer, so I lunged at him across the table.”
Billie couldn’t hide her grin.
“He’s got a nice scratch down the left side of his face to show for his arrogance. I would have done more, but the guard pulled me off him, and now here I am.” Cat raised her hands out to the sides.
“You’ll have to go to court for this if he presses charges,” Billie said.
Cat walked into Billie’s arms. “That’s okay, I’ve got the best lawyer in town. Hey, don’t you have to check my briefs or something?”
Billie kissed her on the nose. “You’re incorrigible. Come on, let’s get you out of here.”
Chapter 10
Detective Matheson released Cat from custody pending the filing of official assault charges against her by Brian. While they waited for the clerk to collect Cat’s belongings, Billie felt Matheson eyeing her from across the room. Determined to hold her own, Billie baited her by leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs. She challenged Matheson’s bold stare with one of her own, while Cat paced back and forth.
Finally, the clerk handed a large yellow envelope to Cat and pushed a sign-out log in front of her for her signature. Cat tore open the envelope and pulled out her wedding rings. Cat handed the rings to Billie as she joined her at the desk. They both grinned as Billie slid them over Cat’s knuckle. When Cat pulled the rest of her personal effects from the envelope, the last item was the letter. Billie took the letter from Cat and noticed something wasn’t quite right about it. She made a mental note to look at it closer that evening and handed it back to her. “Are you ready to go, sweetheart?” She took Cat’s elbow and guided her toward the door.
Matheson blocked her path. She leaned in and whispered to Billie, “It could have been good, you know.”
Before Billie could reply, she was pushed back by Cat who wormed her way between them. “Back off,” Cat said.
Billie noticed the shocked expression on Matheson’s face. She grabbed Cat’s arm to restrain her. “Watch out, this Cat has claws. Just ask Brian.” Billie chuckled and led Cat around the woman and out the door.
Billie gave Cat a lift back to the prison to pick up her car. She parked, leaned over to take Cat into her embrace, and kissed her.
“Not that I’m complaining, mind you, but what was that for?” Cat asked.
“For defending me against the she-wolf, my little tiger.”
“You hardly needed defending. I just wanted to set the record straight with
her. You belong to me, so hands off.”
“Oh, I think she got the message,” Billie said, then added, “I’ve got an appointment at one with a domestic abuse victim and another at three with Art. I should be home by four-thirty. Think you can stay out of trouble for that long?”
“I’ll show you trouble.”
Billie waggled her eyebrows. “Promise?”
“Oh, yeah.” Cat kissed her again. “I’ll see you tonight.”
* * *
When Billie returned to the office, she logged on to her computer and found an e-mail from Jimmy. She glanced at the digital display at the bottom of her computer screen. She would be late for her one o’clock meeting if she opened it. She had only enough time to scan the subject line before Peggy McBride arrived. It said “Roger McBride Criminal Record.” Her attention was drawn from the computer screen by a soft buzzing coming from her telephone.
Billie pushed the intercom button. “Yes, Deb?”
“Your one o’clock appointment is here.”
“Please show her in.”
As Billie directed Peggy McBride to a seat opposite her desk, she reviewed what she had read about Peggy’s age. Late twenties. She seems much older than that, Billie thought. It must be all those years she lived with that abusive asshole. God, I could have ended up like her.
“Please make yourself comfortable. Can I offer you something to drink? Coffee, tea, or water?”
“Coffee would be nice,” Peggy said.
Billie frowned and kept her gaze trained on her client as she paged her secretary with a request for two cups of coffee. She hung up the phone. “Peggy, do you mind if I record this conversation?”
Peggy glanced up. “No. Go ahead.”
“Thanks. Okay, let’s get started by reviewing the formalities of prosecuting this case. We need to put together a background on the relationship with your estranged husband and chronicle the history of abuse. Are you up to that?”
Peggy nodded.
“Oh, here’s our coffee. Thanks, Deb.” Deb set a tray on the table complete with two cups of coffee, spoons, packets of sugar and creamer, and napkins. Billie waited for her secretary to leave the room. “All right then. How did you meet Roger?”
“We’ve known each other since high school.”
“So you’ve known him for maybe fifteen years. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“What was he like?” Billie watched a small smile form at the corners of Peggy’s mouth. Uh-oh—that’s not a good sign. She still has feelings for him.
“He was nice… and very handsome. I considered myself lucky he paid me any attention at all.”
“What do you mean?”
“I wasn’t exactly part of the popular crowd, and he was the captain of the football team. To be truthful, I was somewhat of a wallflower. I was surprised when he seemed to be attracted to me.”
Billie reached over the desk and covered Peggy’s hand with her own. “Don’t sell yourself short, Peggy. You’re a very attractive woman.”
Peggy chuckled. “Not when I was in high school. I wore thick glasses and was pretty gawky. To this day, I don’t understand why he singled me out.”
“So what was your courtship like?” Billie asked.
“He was attentive and respectful and very charming. He won my family over immediately.”
That sounds familiar. “So, your parents liked him, did they?”
“They thought he was wonderful. So much so, Daddy offered him an apprenticeship job at the bank, every summer during high school and college, and guaranteed him a position after we were married.”
Billie sat back in her seat. She could see where this was going.
“When did you marry Roger?”
“Right out of college.”
“Let me see—you would have known each other for eight years by the time you graduated from college. According to your records, you’re twenty-eight, so you would have been twenty-five when your son Travis was born. That means you were married at age twenty-one. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“So how did Roger treat you after you were married?”
“For the first three or four years, it was great. We entertained a lot. Almost every weekend we had a dinner party for corporate clients with the largest bank accounts. He was a good provider. Never once did he refuse to give me an allowance.”
Billie sat back abruptly. “Whoa—stop right there. He gave you an allowance?”
“Yes. I almost never had to ask for it.”
Billie scanned the data sheet on her desk. “Peggy, your fact sheet indicates you went to college and have a degree in accounting. Didn’t you work?”
“Oh, no. Roger wouldn’t hear of it.”
“He forbade you to work?” Billie was amazed at the woman’s complacency.
“Of course. How would that look for a prominent banker’s wife to be working?”
Billie could feel the anger rise in her chest. “Is that what he told you?”
“Well, yes. I mean—my mother never worked either. I just thought that’s the way it was supposed to be.”
Billie inhaled to control her own emotions. “So you were married for about four years before Travis was born. How was Roger during the pregnancy?”
Peggy frowned and didn’t answer right away.
“Is there something disturbing about that question?”
Peggy fidgeted with the napkin in her hands. “Yes and no. You see, when we first learned I was pregnant, Roger wasn’t very happy about it. He blamed me for letting it happen.”
“Why would he be unhappy with the prospect of being a father?”
“I don’t think it was that. I just think the timing was bad. At least that’s what he said. He was climbing the executive ladder at work, and he thought having a child would interfere with his career.”
“You said at first he was unhappy with the prospect of having a child. What changed his mind?”
“Daddy did.”
“Your father?”
“Yes. Daddy was ecstatic about being a grandfather, and he rewarded Roger for it with a promotion sooner than he expected. After that, Roger seemed to warm up to the idea.”
Jesus Christ. It sounded like both her father and husband were egotistical control freaks. “So tell me, Peggy, how did Travis’s birth affect Roger?”
Peggy fell silent again. She raised the napkin to her eye and wiped away a tear.
“Peggy—are you all right?”
“I’m okay. It’s just that everything changed after Travis was born. Roger became a different person.”
“How so?”
“He became withdrawn and verbally abusive. I gained a lot of weight during the pregnancy, and he never let me forget it. Some of the names he called me aren’t even repeatable. He also stopped giving me my allowance and forbade me to attend social events—especially those associated with his job.”
“How was he with Travis?”
“Distant. Impatient. Barely tolerant.”
Billie walked around the corner of her desk and sat on the edge. “Why do you suppose that was?”
Peggy shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe he was jealous. I just don’t know.”
“Jealous? Of the child?”
Peggy nodded. “Travis required a lot of attention when he was a baby. He was colicky and he cried and fussed a lot. The crying made Roger nervous. He would scream at me to shut him up.”
Billie couldn’t imagine Cat or her being jealous of the kids’ presence in their lives.
Peggy looked at Billie. “Do you have children, Ms. Charland?”
Billie smiled. “Call me Billie, and yes, I have three, a boy and two girls.”
“Then you must understand what it’s like to have a fussy child. I can’t blame Roger. Travis did cry all the time. It even wore on my nerves on occasion.”
Billie put a hand on Peggy’s shoulder. “I do understand how a crying baby can be nerve-wracking, but I don’t understand how viol
ence can be a solution for it. Don’t be so quick to defend his actions.”
“Who are you to tell me what not to defend?” she asked.
“I’m someone who’s been where you are right now,” Billie said. “The only difference is I didn’t let him get to my son.”
Peggy’s gaze dropped to her lap again, and she whispered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s all right. Like you, I took the steps necessary to get out of the marriage. It took three years of beatings for me to realize I could do it, but I did.”
“And what about the future? Is there a future for me if I leave Roger?” she asked through tears.
“Yes, there is. The rest of your life is waiting for you, but you need to get rid of the baggage before you can move on.”
“And you, did you move on?”
“Yes, I did. I’m married to the most perfect person in the world, and we have two daughters besides our son. I moved on, and so can you.”
Billie walked to the office door. “Deb, could you bring more coffee? Thanks.” She walked back to her desk and sat down. “Okay, my friend, this is the hard part. I need you to tell me about the beatings—in detail—and don’t leave anything out. Do you understand?”
Two hours later, Billie closed the door behind Peggy and leaned against it. She was exhausted by the interview and bleeding emotionally from old wounds that had been reopened. She liked Peggy. She hoped Peggy was strong enough to break the cycle of abuse she’d allowed herself to become entangled in.
Billie checked her watch. It was time for her meeting with Art. She grabbed her briefs and the notes she took during the interview with Peggy and headed to Art’s office.
* * *
Billie fought her way through the kitchen door when she got home. Shoes and school bags littered the doorway, creating a virtual minefield of booby traps to trip over. She stepped over the mess, put her briefcase and jacket in the coat closet, and headed to the living room. She stopped in the archway between the living room and kitchen and crossed her arms over her chest. The kids were lying disarrayed all over the furniture, watching cartoons.
Unchained Memories Page 7