“She was awfully mad,” Helen continued. “She...she accused him of...of sabotaging her promotion because she wouldn’t sleep with him.”
Helen’s face had turned beet red and she stammered as she reminisced. “She was shouting, and he...he kept telling her to lower her voice. She...she told him she knew about...about the other women employees he’d prop-propositioned. She said she was going to get statements from them and file har-harassment charges against him—”
Her voice broke on a sob, and the doctor put the box of tissues from the night table on the bed beside her, within easy reach. “That’s enough, Lieutenant,” he said crisply.
“No! No, please,” Helen protested through her tears. “I want to finish this now.”
Dr. Hardy looked at her. “Are you sure? You don’t have to do this until you’re stronger.”
“I’ll be all right,” she assured him. “I just want to get it over with.” She wiped her wet face and blew her nose, then turned to look at Zurcher. “By then Floyd had lost control of his vicious temper and was yelling, too. He told Sharon to shut up and get out. That those women wouldn’t tattle on him if they wanted to keep their jobs. He said he—” Again she broke off on a sob. “That he had plenty of willing women to choose from, and he sure as hell didn’t need her. He...he threatened to fire her if she stirred up trouble, and said he’d make sure she didn’t get another job anywhere in the hotel industry.”
Helen stopped and took a deep breath. “They shouted at each other some more, but I was too shocked and upset to catch what they said. I didn’t know she’d left until I realized that the noise had stopped and there was nothing but silence.”
She closed her eyes once more, but it didn’t stop the tears that ran unchecked down her pale, sunken cheeks. Sharon’s own eyes filled as she absorbed some of the other woman’s pain. She knew only too well what Helen was going through. Being accused falsely, as Sharon had been, was bad enough, but having to confess that you’d killed your philandering husband would be sheer hell.
Fergus, who was standing beside Sharon, reached out and took her hand. The gesture shattered her tenuous control, and she turned into his arms, buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed. He held her close and rubbed his cheek in her hair. “Go ahead and cry, sweetheart,” he murmured in her ear. “You’re entitled.”
Aloud he said, “I think we’d better postpone the rest of Mrs. Vancleave’s statement until tomorrow. She’s been put through enough for one day.”
“I agree—” the doctor began, but Helen cut him off.
“No, Mr. Lachlan. I really need to get this over with.” She sounded exhausted, but determined. “It won’t take much longer. After Sharon left I confronted Floyd. He was furious, and was especially enraged that I’d stand up to him and dare to question his actions. I told him I was going to file for divorce.”
She stopped and shuddered. “He looked at me with pure hatred and swung back his arm, his fist clenched to hit me. I was honestly afraid that he’d kill me, and I reached out for something to protect myself with. My hand closed on the letter opener that was lying on his desk, and I swung wildly with it. It plunged into his chest.”
Another sob shook her. “I didn’t want to kill him. I only wanted to keep him from beating me up again.”
Dr. Hardy poured a glass of water and held it for Helen while she sipped it through a straw. “Don’t put yourself through any more of this,” he said softly. “If there’s anything else they need to know they can question you later.” He glared at Lieutenant Zurcher. “Much later.”
She pushed the glass away. “There’s just one more thing,” she insisted. “Floyd didn’t say anything, just looked stunned and stumbled against the desk. Then he fell and scattered things as he went down. I didn’t know how badly he was hurt, but I panicked and ran out the way I’d come in, got to my car and drove home. When I got there I was violently sick.” She sighed and relaxed against her pillow. “I guess you know the rest.”
* * *
By the time Sharon and Fergus arrived home Sharon was exhausted. For the first time she fully understood what her grandmother had meant when she used to say, “I feel like I’ve been put through the wringer.”
Sharon had seen pictures of those old-style washing machines with a contraption built on the side that ran clothes between two cylinders, one on top of the other, to wring out all the water from them. That’s exactly the way she felt, as if she’d been wrung dry of all emotion.
This day had been a marathon of highs and lows. She knew she should be exuberant, and she was. The mystery of Floyd Vancleave’s death had been cleared up and she’d been exonerated. Fergus assured her that getting the charges against her dropped was only a formality now that they had a confession from Floyd’s wife that she’d been the culprit.
But “culprit” wasn’t the word for Helen Vancleave. Actually, she was the victim and Floyd was the culprit. He’d been a mean, selfish egomaniac, with no redeeming qualities as far as Sharon could see. Helen had had a right to strike out in self-defense, and Sharon’s heart bled for the poor, troubled woman.
Fergus seemed confident that the case would never go to trial, but Floyd had made Helen’s life a hell for so long that she now seemed past caring what happened to her.
Anna arrived home a short time later and, after happily greeting Fergus, wanted to hear all about their visit with Mrs. Vancleave. Sharon was too drained to go through it all again and excused herself to go to bed, leaving Fergus to bring Anna up to date on the events of the day.
Sharon slept soundly all night, and woke up feeling rested and invigorated with the knowledge that she no longer had to dread the start of a new day, but could face it with anticipation and confidence.
Then she remembered that it was Sunday. Fergus would be leaving in a few hours to return to his home and his law practice in Chicago. And not just temporarily, as before.
He was no longer needed there to defend her, and Helen hadn’t been arrested. At least not yet. But he’d already arranged for Ray Quinlan to be co-council and handle her defense—under Fergus’s long-distance supervision, of course—if she should be.
No, this time when he left to return to Chicago he wouldn’t be coming back!
Chapter Fourteen
Sharon dressed quickly in red shorts and a red-and-white striped pullover shirt. After brushing her teeth, splashing water on her face and adding a touch of lipstick, she ran a comb through her hair and tripped barefoot downstairs to the kitchen.
Fergus was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and the newspaper. He lowered the paper when she entered the room and smiled up at her.
“Well, hello there,” he said huskily as his gaze roamed over her, taking special notice of her full breasts, rounded hips and long, slender legs. “God, Sharon, you’re even more desirable now than you were when we were—” He stopped abruptly and drew in his breath, then motioned to the chair beside him. “Sit down. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
She felt both pleased and disappointed. Apparently he wasn’t going to pursue his thoughts on the subject of her desirability, but why would he? She’d told him emphatically that she wasn’t going to make love with him again.
How woefully naive she’d been at that time, when she was still sated by their stunning night of passion. Had she really been immature enough to believe that ignoring the attraction between them would make it go away? Why hadn’t she realized it would be like trying to stop the tides? They reappeared on a regular basis whether you allowed them to or not.
She smiled back at him. “Good morning, thank you and don’t bother to get up. I can pour my own coffee.”
She took a mug from the cupboard and filled it. “Would you like a refill?” she said as she turned to look at him.
“No, thanks. Mine’s nearly full,” he answered.
She brought her cup and sat down in the chair he’d offered. “Is Anna still sleeping?”
“No, she left about an hour ago. She took the do
g and drove down to spend the day with her parents in Arnold.”
Sharon gazed past him out the window at the bright sunshine and cloudless sky. “Isn’t it a beautiful day? You should have wakened me earlier. I haven’t slept so soundly since I was arrested and charged with Floyd’s murder.”
“I’m glad you rested so well,” Fergus said, “and I’m not masochistic enough to go into your bedroom while you’re in bed asleep. When you’ve finished your breakfast we have to talk.”
Her appetite disappeared along with her feeling of well-being. He was going to tell her he was returning to Chicago. That it was nice seeing her again, but now he had to get back to work, so goodbye and please try to stay out of trouble from now on.
“I... I’m ready anytime you are,” she said, trying for a light tone and failing miserably.
He folded the paper and laid it aside. “Then let’s take our coffee and go into the other room, where we can be more comfortable.”
She agreed and followed him into the living room, where he headed for the sofa and she started toward a chair.
“No, sit here with me,” he said, and patted the cushion beside him.
She knew that wasn’t a good idea. Talk about desirable! That subject was definitely not one-sided. Fergus was wearing hip-hugging blue denim shorts that exposed his strong, muscular legs, and a snug-fitting, multicolored striped pullover shirt that outlined the equally powerful muscles in his chest. Just the sight of him made her mouth water!
No, sitting beside him wasn’t a smart move, but it was an invitation she couldn’t resist, and she obeyed. He reached over and cupped his palm around her bare knee.
“I’d better warn you, I’m going to do my damnedest to seduce you,” he said huskily. “Please, give me a fighting chance and listen to what I have to say.”
The muscles under his hand clenched and unclenched, and the coffee in her mug splashed back and forth as she fought to retain some semblance of resistance to his overwhelming nearness and appeal. This handsome Scotsman could charm the plaid out of her kilt! “Fergus, I—”
He squeezed her knee. “No, don’t say anything until you’ve heard me out. There’s a flight to Chicago later this afternoon and I’m going to be on it. I want you to come with me.”
That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say, and her coffee not only sloshed, but spilled a few drops on her thigh. She took a large swallow, then leaned forward and set the mug on the low table in front of them. In the process she managed to free her knee from Fergus’s disturbing caress.
He didn’t protest, but put his own mug down and sighed. “I love you, sweetheart, and I can’t let you slip away from me again.”
Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth, but he put a finger across it. “I’m not trying to seduce you for an afternoon, or a weekend, or even for a few months. I’m asking you to marry me, Sharon.”
“We already did that!” The bitter words slipped out before she could stop them.
An expression of deep sadness settled over Fergus’s face. “I know. What can I say? I’m sorry? I am, deeply so. I made a mistake? I did. I handled the situation badly, but I never wanted to lose you. I should have contested the divorce, but you were so insistent and I felt so guilty. I’d already hurt you so badly....”
He ran his fingers through his hair in a gesture of frustration. “How can I make you believe me?”
It was a cry of desperation that nearly broke Sharon’s heart. If only...if only... But there were too many “if onlys” that weighed too heavily on her.
She turned to him, and this time she wouldn’t be hushed. “I do believe you, Fergus,” she said timidly, then hurried on when she saw both surprise and hope in his expression. “That is, I believe you love me as much as you are capable of loving, but it always comes back to the same dilemma. How can I trust that love, when it wasn’t strong enough before to keep you from being attracted to another woman?”
He winced, but she had to make him understand. “I know we’ve had this conversation many times lately, but it always comes back to that one insurmountable stumbling block.
“It’s not that I don’t love you—I do. It’s not even that I can’t forgive you. The problem is that I can no longer trust your love. I know pride is a lonely bedfellow, and I’ve certainly had enough experience with loneliness these past five years, but I just can’t come to terms with being second best with you. I’d always know that you’d rather have Elaine—”
“Dammit to hell, Sharon, that’s not true!” Fergus thundered. “I told you then and I’m telling you now, I never wanted our marriage to break up.”
He stood and turned away from her. “In spite of my unwanted and unwelcome feelings for Elaine, I never wanted a divorce. Elaine knew that. I told her so, and she was in the process of moving to the West Coast, when you...when you...”
“When I caught you together,” Sharon said for him.
Fergus sighed wearily. “You didn’t catch us together. I was kissing her goodbye before taking her to the airport. I was never unfaithful to you, I swear it.”
“I believe you,” Sharon said. “At least, I believe you never slept with her, but you were unfaithful in your heart. You were infatuated with her. And if you and I had stayed together you’d always have wanted her. She’s the one you would have missed, the one you’d have wanted in your bed—”
“Sharon!” His tone was a mixture of outrage and disbelief as he whirled around to face her. “My God, you don’t really know me at all, do you?”
She felt the hot flush of shame, but didn’t know why. She truly believed what she’d said, but she hadn’t meant it as an accusation of some unforgivable sin, just a regrettable fact of human frailty that could happen to anybody under the same circumstances.
“I... I’m sorry,” she said, anxious to make him understand. “I didn’t mean to imply that...that you’d deliberately be, well, lusting after her.”
“Than just what in hell were you implying?” he demanded.
“I wasn’t implying anything. I was just trying to explain why I can’t be content to be second best with you.”
His expression softened, and he sat back down beside her and rubbed his face with his hands. “You were never second best with me. Look, honey, let me try to explain to you how I felt about Elaine. She and I came into the law firm at about the same time. We were the same age, similar backgrounds, and both brand-new law school graduates and members of the bar. We worked well together and after a while we started dating.”
He cleared his throat. “We had a lot in common, and enjoyed each other’s company. There was no formal commitment. It was a comfortable arrangement, but I suppose you could say we were drifting toward marriage.”
Sharon blinked. He’d never told her he’d been involved with Elaine before they met. In fact, he’d never discussed any of the women in his past. That wasn’t his style. He was a very private person.
He turned to look at her. “Then I met you.”
He paused as though trying to gather his thoughts. “You caught me off guard and changed the whole course of my life. You were so cute, and so sexy, and so...so persistent.”
Sharon felt the warm blush and lowered her head. “I know I chased after you shamelessly—”
He put his hand under her chin and lifted her face. “No, don’t apologize,” he said softly. “You were a delight. I was perilously close to becoming a pompous ass, taking myself too seriously and forgetting how to just enjoy life. You changed all that. You made me laugh, and eventually you made me cry, but the emotions you aroused in me were strong and sharp. They forced me to feel joy in just being alive and in control of my destiny.”
He ran his fingers through her hair. “The only reason you had to chase me instead of the other way around was because I was so conscious of the ten years’ difference in our ages. You were so very young and carefree, and we had almost nothing in common.”
He dropped his hand and turned to face forward again. “It seems I was ri
ght to worry about that. It’s what finally came between us,” he said sadly.
Sharon was startled. “Don’t blame that on the age difference,” she snapped. “You just discovered after it was too late that it was Elaine you wanted instead of me.”
“I know you’ve always believed that, but it’s not true. From the first time we met until now I’ve never stopped wanting you, but living together wasn’t easy for either of us. I was totally immersed in my law practice, and the subject bored you.”
She opened her mouth to object, but he stopped her. “Your main interests were rock bands and the college activities you were involved in. I’d outgrown that sort of thing years before. Mostly we spent our time quarreling and making love.”
She scowled at him. “I thought you enjoyed making love with me. You were the one who usually initiated it.”
“Damn right I did. All I had to do to get turned on was come home and find you there. Even quarreling with you aroused me, but it takes more than just good sex to make a marriage. We didn’t have anything to talk about once we got out of bed.”
Sharon opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again when she realized he was right. She’d been in college most of the time they were married, and her interests had all been shallow ones: the football games, the rock concerts and the myriad of campus activities she was involved in.
She must have bored Fergus to death with all her inconsequential chatter, just as she’d been easily bored when he’d tried to discuss his problems and concerns with her.
She hung her head. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t the kind of wife you wanted. You should have told me—”
“You were the wife I wanted,” he interrupted, “but neither of us was perfect. We were too close to our problems to see them clearly. I started discussing my work with Elaine because she was interested and understood all the intricacies of the law. We were able to help each other, and we sort of got in the habit of having lunch together. That progressed to sometimes staying late at the office, or stopping off for a drink after work to talk. I swear I didn’t realize how much I was depending on her until we were more emotionally involved than we should have been.”
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