Privileged Witness (23 page)

Archer was on the verge of letting a triumphant little smile cross his lips when he thought he saw something else. Archer thought he saw hatred in Matthew McCreary's eyes and that wasn't good. Josie should know but she was too quick, too angry, to pay attention to subtleties. By the time Archer was moving in on her, turning slightly to whisper caution, she was striding into the room and right up to Matthew McCreary who covered well and offered her a politician's welcome. His beautifully turned out companion started to smile in that wary, defensive way a startled hostess will. Josie didn't notice the woman nor did she give Matthew any room to maneuver. She raised her hands and pushed him. He held his own for a minute and then the muscles in her arm corded and she pushed him back and back until his was up against the ornate fireplace.

''Why didn't you tell me Michelle had filed for divorce?''

CHAPTER 30

Helen Crane was encased in an intricate get up that Archer knew to be couture for sure. There was some kind of huge bow at her shoulder and that bodice of hers was sewn with whalebone that a bullet would bounce off. The jewels on her ears and neck, wrist and bosom were stunning – some so large it was hard to believe they were real. Her hair was backswept and her face had been upswept but she still didn't look as good as Josie.

Matthew McCreary looked fine, too. There was something about a tux. Archer had never worn one but he understood the allure. A tux made any guy look successful, controlled and powerful. It was a piece of armor worn against the prejudices of a democratic caste system based on bank accounts. You could be prince or pauper but that suit made a guy look like a king. It wasn't until you peeled the damn thing off after a long night that you got down to it and found out if the prize inside was worth the wrapping.

The other thing Matthew McCreary looked was cautious. His friend, the lady of the house, was feeling the same way even though she was handling the situation better. She had buried her concern under her exquisite manners. Helen Crane had introduced herself to Josie and pried the tall woman's hands off Matthew McCreary with a word rather than a gesture. Seamlessly, she invited her guests to continue to party.

Rich or poor, free food and booze served up with a little scandal to gossip about had the same effect on everyone. It was all good. Archer was asked along as Helen led Josie and Matthew away. She didn't bother to introduce herself to Archer but he let it slide since she was so smooth. Together the four of them repaired to a well-appointed library where Helen Crane proved her behavior was no act. She was quite the lady. She offered drinks, poured when Archer requested a scotch, neat, and delivered it herself.

''I've been hearing about what a fine lawyer you are, Ms. Bates.'' Helen took her own drink and found a place to settle herself. ''Now I can see why you are so effective in the courtroom. You don't stand on ceremony and you go after what you want.''

''You're going to have to start using the past tense because I'm just about to lose a big one,'' Josie told her, never taking her eyes off Matthew. ''No one bothered to tell me that Michelle McCreary filed for divorce. That's all the prosecutor is going to need to prove motive.''

''That's just absurd. . .'' Matthew objected, his dark eyes on Josie, his voice cold as ice. ''Michelle always talked about divorce. She always told me that she couldn't take the scrutiny or the schedules or the banquet food and that it would be better for me if she just gone. I heard that every time I turned around. I heard it so often I didn't even listen anymore.''

''Then you must have been blind as well as deaf,'' Josie snapped. ''Those papers were filed in superior court and if they were filed, they were served.''

''Then I never got them.'' Matthew threw up his hands. ''I can't believe I'm hearing this.'' He turned back to Josie. ''What is it with women I have relationships with? They all want to screw me one way or the other and I'm not even having any fun. I never thought you'd do it, Josie. Do you want to see me knocked out of this race, too?''

Josie matched him step for step, following him on a parallel course.

''God, I'm sick of you lying, Matthew. When did you turn into such a liar? When was it worth putting Grace in jeopardy to save your stupid campaign? I swear the press and the prosecution are will draw and quarter your sister because you're afraid it will cost you a few votes if people knew your wife was going to leave you!''

''Why, you. . .'' Matthew advanced but Josie shrank away.

''Come on, Matthew.'' If it was a fight he wanted then that's what she would give him.

''Ms. Bates! Matthew!''

Helen Crane called a halt and Josie turned on her first then to Archer as Matthew showed his back to her. He went to his own corner, sinking into a chair next to Helen who had clearly taken the floor.

''Miss Bates,'' she began, ''I knew Michelle McCreary very well and I must agree with Matthew. Michelle often talked about how difficult it was for her to live under the microscope. I heard her talk about divorce on more than one occasion. It had nothing to do with Matthew and everything to do with her own lack of confidence, shall we say.''

''Then why file?'' Josie grumbled.

''Because it was a way to get attention. What woman hasn't done something ridiculous to get the attention of the man she loved?''

''I haven't,'' Josie snapped.

''My, my. Aren't you just exceptional, Miss Bates?'' Helen drawled.

''Would you testify in court to hearing Michelle McCreary threaten divorce?'' Josie asked, ignoring Helen's condescending attitude.

''Yes, I would.'' Helen answered, coolly defiant, eyeing Josie Bates as if she were sizing up her character and found it formidable. Tipping her head, Helen spoke in that well modulated voice of hers. ''Michelle was a great deal younger than I, but she was one of my oldest acquaintances. I knew her as a child. We certainly spent a great deal of time together during the planning stages of Matthew's campaign. I tried to encourage her to participate in ways that would be comfortable for her. It never went very well. I heard her hint at darker ways of extricating herself from the world of politics. I admit it surprised me when she actually killed herself because she was so religious but, there you have it. People can surprise you. If I had any doubts that Michelle took her own life, do you think I would still be publicly supporting Matthew?''

Josie laughed a little at such absurdity, ''Of course you would.''

''I do like you, Ms. Bates,'' Helen said sincerely. ''You're like a man. Honest when it suits you, no matter who it might wound.''

''And I resent the implication,'' Matthew said. ''I'm telling the truth. I was not served with those papers. I barely spoke to Michelle in the weeks before she died. She was in one of her self-serving snits. My wife could be a royal pain in the butt. . .''

''Matthew,'' Helen warned but he would have none of her caution.

''Oh, the hell with it. Why not tell Josie? It doesn't matter. Michelle is dead and I'm sick of kow-towing to her memory or to Grace's needs or to your orders.'' Matthew put a hand to his face and the gold nests of his ebony studs sparkled in the artistically arranged lighting. There was sweat on his upper lip. He moved and twitched as if desperate to alleviate himself of a powerful itch. He couldn't sit still and almost threw himself out of his chair, pacing off the room and gesturing to Helen and Josie in turn. Archer didn't exist.

''My wife was selfish and introverted and pampered and I was starting to hate her. She was afraid of everything: of people looking into our lives and other people ignoring us, of God punishing us because we were living wrong or living too well. Michelle thought it was a curse because we didn't have children. I thank God we didn't.'' He turned on Helen. ''Can you imagine a child with that basket case?''

''Matthew.'' Helen warned again. ''Michelle was delicate. She had her problems but she was working through them.''

''She was a taker. I thought she worried about me, about how I would feel if I lost this campaign and the pressure that would be on me if I won. But, no,'' Matthew shook his head hard. ''She was the one who was afraid of defeat. She didn't want to be a nobody but she wouldn't lift a finger to make herself a somebody. She was a god damn leech and then she blamed everyone else because the blood she was sucking wasn't good enough.''

''Then why marry her,'' Archer asked and got a look of utter disdain for his curiosity.

''Because things can seem right even when they aren't. Being needed desperately is a turn on. But then I found out she didn't need me and I found out that I didn't have enough of whatever she wanted and that pissed me off. All women can make things just seem so very right if you give them half a chance. . .'' He looked straight at Josie. ''All women want something, don't they, Josie?''

A knock on the door kept her from lashing out in answer. Everyone turned and watched the door open wide enough to let Tim Douglas join the party. He came in thirds. First his head poked in. He looked around to judge the terrain before moving half his body through the door. He was still in escape mode but finally took the plunge and the other half of him became visible. With great care he closed the door. His fancy dress did little to hide the fact that he was a reluctant man, a mournful man, a man who was volunteering at his own execution.

''I think I need to be here,'' he said quietly.

''Good. Good, Tim. Come on in.'' Matthew strode up to his chief of staff and took him by the shoulders. He held onto him, pulling and pushing him into the center of the room like a prized child who would perform on command. ''I want you to tell Josie and her friend here all about Michelle. Go ahead, tell her everything.''

Tim opened his mouth to speak but he closed it almost immediately. His eyes darted from one person to the next until they came to rest on a delicate walnut table inlaid with mother of pearl. He hung his head and they all waited: Helen with anticipation, Matthew with frustration, Josie with indignation and Archer with enough curiosity for all of them. Eventually Tim spoke and his voice quavered with sincere apology.

''I have the papers.''

''What have you got?'' Matthew demanded and Tim flinched.

''I have your divorce papers, Matthew. You were served a week before Michelle died and. . .'' Tim's voice caught but he had gone too far to back away now. ''And Grace knew about it.''

CHAPTER 31

Grace was summoned to Helen Crane's mansion.

While they waited, Matthew went off by himself. Whether disgusted by the information or devastated by it, Josie couldn't tell. Helen Crane went along to look after him. Tim sat with his head in his hands until Archer took pity and poured him a drink. Josie had settled in an exquisite chair covered in gold silk, elephants embroidered in the color of olive oil. Her long legs were crossed, one arm was cocked and her chin rested on her upturned fist. Archer stationed himself at floor to ceiling leaded windows and watched Helen Crane's guests filter out of the house taking the gaiety – and their checkbooks - with them. The fundraiser was a bust. The last expensive car was pulling out of the drive when Grace's Jaguar pulled in. Archer gave a high sign to Josie. Tim Douglas sat reveling in his misery, an unfinished drink in his hand. The doorbell rang and everyone regrouped.

Without exception, they all looked older and exhausted. Grace, on the other hand, looked calm, refreshed and impeccable in navy slacks, low heeled shoes and an exquisitely expensive white shirt, its collar turned up to frame her face, one button too many opened to give her a sexy, sophisticated look. A camel silk sweater was slung over her shoulders despite the warmth of the evening. At her neck was a heavy chain of gold, matching hoops hung from her ears and the emerald was on her finger. Her make-up was as exotic as ever yet she looked innocent and young in this group of angry people. The ring wasn't twirling and her hands lay unmoving in her lap as she explained herself.

''Tim and I were working together when the man came to deliver the papers, Matthew.'' She spoke to him, her voice soft and soothing, the way a mother might address a child whose feelings had been hurt by her cross words. ''Tim and I were both authorized to accept and open any correspondence on your behalf. If we didn't, nothing would ever get done.''

Grace looked at Tim who encouraged her with a sad little smile. She smiled back and then addressed the room.

''When the papers arrived from a law firm we weren't familiar with, we opened the envelope, saw what it was, shut the door to my office and talked about what to do.''

''Picking up the phone and calling me would have been good,'' Matthew drawled and Grace winced. Josie glanced his way, waiting to be convinced that this wasn't all a game. From the look on his face this was either the real deal or Matthew was one heck of a player.

''We just couldn't, Matthew. We knew how important that Northern California trip was,'' Tim explained. ''You were trying to solidify a more liberal base that had been way out of reach and you were making inroads. We didn't want any distractions. And. . . and. . .''

Tim paused, casting a glance at Grace. Her eyes closed briefly, encouraging him to continue. Tim shifted in his seat.

''Look, Matthew, we all knew what Michelle was like. I mean, I'm sorry. I know she was your wife but she was a problem. You had been gone a long time. We thought this move might be a grandstand to get some attention. You were due back soon, she hadn't called in through us and asked us to get a hold of you, you hadn't mentioned talking to her, so we figured it was just one of those screwy things she did. You know, like the time she called and said she was having a heart attack and you had to leave that speech out in Valencia? Grace and I decided it would be better to talk it over with you when you got home. And, well, that's what we thought . . .''

''And, I was going to talk to her,'' Grace interjected suddenly. She looked so eager to please, so eager to take the blame on herself. ''Matthew, it's all my fault. I told Tim I would take care of everything and I did try. I called Michelle everyday. I wrote her notes but she wouldn't answer me. I even tracked her down at church but she stayed inside the confessional. I didn't want to look like I was stalking her so I left. Then we found out about her not honoring the loans – I did tell you about that - so I went to the penthouse as a last resort. I thought if I could just talk to her then I could find out what was really wrong. Once I knew that, I could set things right. So we put the papers in my desk and I did what I could.''