Privileged Witness (25 page)

''Hey, take it down. Damn,'' he snapped when Grace buried her teeth in his hand.

Expertly, Archer readjusted and Grace was locked down even though she still pulled against him and cursed as Matthew let loose a volley of accusations.

''Don't deny it, Grace. Something was going on between you two. I saw it every time you were together. Knowing you, you'd sleep with anyone. You're a slut Grace. You're lucky I let you come back.''

''Shut up.'' Josie swung toward him and screamed. ''Matthew, stop it.''

''I won't. I'm sick to death of this whole thing. Grace and Michelle always had their heads together. Whispering and keeping secrets and sharing. . .'' The last was drawn out with such bitterness that it stunned even Josie and, in that, instant she understood it. Matthew's patience had run out, his anger and grief was boiling over and he needed someone to blame for what his life had become. ''You want to know what happened on that balcony, Josie? It was probably a lover's spat. Admit it Grace. Come on. Admit you haven't told anyone the truth. You and Michelle were lovers, weren't you? Weren't you?''

''No, no. No,'' Grace cried, tears falling from her eyes. ''No, I wouldn't. Not like that. . . Never like that. . .'' Grace wailed.

She sagged in Archer's arms and cried in earnest. He held her up, turned her into him, held her close against his body as she denied, denied, denied. Matthew sunk onto a chair. He put his head in his hands. His legs were wide apart and his elbows were propped on his knees. Helen Crane, shaken and silent, was at the bar filling her glass to the brim with bourbon and nothing else. The rustle of her gown underscored Grace's whimpers. Tim Douglas hung back by the door as if he'd like to make his escape but was afraid to draw attention to himself. The minutes ticked by and Grace's lament faded to an intermittent hiccough of misery.

''Well.'' Helen was the first to speak. She crossed the room. ''This certainly poses some interesting problems.''

Matthew raised his eyes. He looked exhausted as if the collective years, not just these last minutes, had taken their toll. Grace turned her head, making no move to leave the protection of Archer's arms.

''Why are you doing this to me, Matthew?'' Her voice small and pathetic.

''I'm not doing anything to you,'' he lamented wearily. He lifted his lifeless eyes to his sister. ''I did everything for you from the minute mom and dad died. But now it's different. There's so much at stake.''

''So much at stake?'' she asked in disbelief. ''My life is at stake.''

Grace moved. Archer's let her go. Matthew steeled himself for her attack. Instead, Grace threw herself at her brother's feet. Her cheek was on his knees her arms wrapped around his leg.

''Don't do this. Don't do this. I loved Michelle but not that way. I would never hurt you like that. Never, ever. I love you so much.''

Matthew closed his eyes. His hands hovered in the air until, finally, he touched his sister's head, lowered his own, kissed her hair as if she were still a child.

''Grace, Grace,'' he whispered and tightened his grasp. ''I don't know what to think anymore. You should have just stayed away.''

''But you came to get me,'' she sobbed.

Josie couldn't bear to watch and neither could anyone else. Helen was drinking. Archer was wandering toward Tim Douglas who stood with his back against the door, his mouth hanging slack in amazement. When she finally looked back nothing had changed. Matthew's lips were still buried in his sister's hair. His eyes were closed as were hers. Grace's body shuddered with her quiet sobs.

From the first Josie had been aware of Grace's plainness underneath her exquisite make-up. But now, in her distress, Josie saw that a vulnerable Grace was beautiful. Her hair was tousled; the top buttons of her shirt had come loose. Grace's neck was long and white. In profile her face looked like an alabaster relief, an antiquity drawn from the depths of the sea. Her cries had stopped. Grace was quiet. Matthew whispered in her ear. Everyone strained to listen but only the only sound was his murmur, the only sign that Grace understood him was that her body relaxed.

Tim Douglas collapsed onto a chair near the doorway. Archer folded his arms and looked past brother and sister to a point on the far wall. Helen Crane's nose was still buried in her bourbon. Josie watched, drawn to the two, mesmerized by Matthew's gentleness as he smoothed Grace's hair back and watched his sister's face.

''You promised,'' Grace whispered, '' To take care of me. . . .if I was good . . .''

Josie couldn't hear it all. She leaned even closer but Matthew was suddenly aware of her proximity. Embarrassed, perhaps cautious, Matthew wanted the moment to remain private so he leaned over Grace and soothed her with his whispers like he would a skittish pet. Then Matthew said the wrong thing. Without warning Grace threw him off. Her face was alive with resentment and rage. Matthew sprang from the chair as she beat at him. Finally, he had her wrists and he struggled to control her.

''You see?'' he called to them all ''See how she is? And you wonder what she could have done to Michelle?''

With a final utterance, an ‘oh no' of despair Grace fell against him as if her heart was dead and her soul was empty. Josie was sick at the sight of it. Matthew took his sister's face in his hands, touched his forehead against hers. It was impossible to look away.

''You'll be all right, Grace. Everything will be all right.''

''I wasn't her lover,'' Grace murmured. ''I'm not your enemy. I just loved you. Why do you think I'm the enemy?''

''I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I know you loved her. ''

''That's all. I loved her. I just loved her,'' Grace repeated over and over. ''I didn't want to hurt her. I never meant to hurt her.''

''I know. Shhh.''

Matthew looked at Josie as if to say ‘see what I have to deal with'. He passed over Archer in favor of Tim Douglas. The younger came to attention.

''Get her home.'' Matthew said.

Grace's head snapped up. She backed out of his arms.

''I don't want to go home.'' She pushed her hair out of her eyes and looked at Josie. ''Say something. You're my lawyer. You said you would only listen to me and now you two are going to make plans about me. I should hear that.''

''We're not going to be making any plans, Grace,'' Josie assured her. ''It's not a night to make decisions. Nobody's thinking straight.''

''Don't you mean I'm out of my mind? Isn't that what you mean?''
''No, that's not what I mean,'' Josie said firmly.

''Grace, please. Just go home. Don't make this more complicated.'' Matthew begged wearily.

Grace shook her head. Tim started to cross the room but Grace stopped him with a look.

''What are you going to do, Matthew?'' she asked. ''What are you going to do if I make this more complicated?'' Slowly her eyes panned the room challenging each one of them to be a little bit responsible for her. ''You and Josie would just be happy that I was gone like Michelle. Then you and Matthew could do what you've wanted to do from the minute you laid eyes on each other. You could finish up what I walked in on the other night. You know what I'm talking about. It was rough. I didn't know Matthew liked it that way. My sweet brother looked like he was going at it . . .''

''Grace! Please!'' Matthew wailed but she paid him no heed. With a sly smile she turned to the two men who hadn't been forgotten. Grace purred like a kitten.

''Tim saw it, didn't you? You saw them rutting around like animals. In my sister-in-law's house. My dead sister-in-law.''

''Grace, stop talking now. You're only going to hurt yourself.'' Matthew made a move toward his sister. Josie put out a hand to stop him but it was unnecessary. Grace, tired of it all looked at Archer. Whatever passed between them didn't seem to satisfy her but there was no fight left.

''You're probably right.'' Her voice trailed off and no one quite knew what to say. Josie, though, understood the evening had to be brought to an end.

''Tomorrow the preliminary will be done. Grace, if you go to trial I would suggest you retain new counsel. If you're not bound over, then you're home free and we will go our separate ways. Is that acceptable? Grace?''

''Is that what you want, Grace?'' Matthew insisted impatiently.

Grace's silence, the onlooker's uncomfortable scrutiny was upsetting and Matthew's expression was on of barely contained aggravation. Grace was oblivious or careless or clueless. Perhaps, she was cruel because she left the room without acknowledging him. There would be no closure, only the disturbance of the air as Grace moved, the barest hint of her footfall on the carpet and the sense that her clothing was brushing against her skin. Ghost-like, she slipped out the barely open door.

''Tim.'' Matthew jerked his head in the direction Grace had gone.

Tim hesitated unsure of what was expected of him. Babysit? Spy? Stalk Grace McCreary? Finally, Tim pulled his lips tight and mumbled ‘sure'.

''Stay until she's asleep,'' Matthew ordered. ''I don't want her to hurt herself. I don't want her to hurt anyone else.''

Tim nodded and then he was gone, too. Matthew strode to the bar, whipped his bowtie off and let it dangle around his neck as he rummaged through the liquor. Nothing pleased him and Josie didn't care.

''Why would you think she might hurt someone else?'' She stood behind Matthew knowing he heard and ticked that her only answer was the slamming of bottles. ''Matthew, do you believe that Grace is dangerous?''

''You saw her.'' Matthew settled on brandy, poured too much then drank too much. ''The way she came at me.''

''I'd have done the same if you accused me of sleeping with your wife. Even if it was true, I wouldn't want an audience to hear it,'' Josie said evenly. ''So, were you lying or what?''

Matthew's eyes traveled over Josie before he sighed and pulled a hand over his eyes.

''Who knows what went on with the two of them? They were both loony birds. At least Grace is. I think what we just saw here tonight proves that.''

''Tonight proves nothing.'' Helen Crane put herself between Matthew and Josie, shielding her golden boy. ''So, may I suggest that we all just call it an evening and see what happens in court tomorrow? Once we know where this thing stands we can decide what to do about Grace and your campaign Matthew.''

''Maybe if Grace didn't have to worry about how every move would affect Matthew she might actually tell the truth.'' Josie stepped around Helen. ''How about giving her permission, Matthew?''

''If it were that easy I would.'' Matthew took another drink.

''You cut her loose before and she managed to take care of herself.'' Josie suggested dryly.

''She ran away. I didn't throw her out.''

''But you brought her back.'' Josie was persistent. ''You gave her to Michelle like a puppy. Michelle had a companion and you were free to do whatever you wanted. Now the scale is tipped and you're responsible for her again. Maybe Grace's gratitude and loyalty aren't limitless. Maybe she'll start saying things you don't want anyone to hear if you don't control her.''

''I don't know what you're talking about.''

''I think the puppy grew into a dog with sharp teeth and an instinct to bite, Matthew.'' Josie ambled toward him. It felt like they were alone in the room. ''Something happened in that wonderful little family of yours, Matthew, and you and Grace think you can beat the system if you just hang tight. It can't be done, Matthew.''

''We'll probably never know.'' Matthew finished his drink and walked past Josie to get his jacket. Archer wrapped things up.

''Party's over, Jo.'' He took her arm. She resisted then realized he was right. The one thing she wanted, truth from Matthew McCreary, she wasn't going to get.

Helen Crane walked them toward the hall only to pass them along to the maid who saw them out. When she returned Matthew McCreary was standing by the floor to ceiling windows, one finger holding back the sheers as he watched them get into the Jeep and go.

''What are they thinking?''Her gown rustled as she walked toward him and stopped close.

''I don't know,'' Matthew muttered.

''Then what were you thinking?'' She moved around him, her hand trailing across his back until she stood with it resting casually on his shoulder. Matthew let the drape swing back into place.

''I was thinking that Grace is trouble. She kept those divorce papers from me. Maybe she's keeping something else from me, too.''

''And what might that something be, Matthew?''

''I don't know that either,'' he admitted wearily. ''In Grace's mind everything she does is a good work on my behalf. Always has been, always will be.''

''Do you think her good work included killing your wife?''

''To what purpose?'' Matthew groused.

''To keep Michelle from humiliating you before the election. Michelle was a paranoid, piece of fluff who was afraid of being alone, Matthew, and that means it would take something huge to file for divorce.'' Helen melted away and settled herself on the sofa. ''What did you do, Matthew?''

''Nothing.'' Matthew swung his head her way. His eyes glittered as he looked her up and down. The huge skirt of her gown billowed out around her; the jewels at her neck twinkled and sparkled. ''Or, whatever it was, it was in Michelle's mind.''

''Alright. If you say so,'' she sighed. ''Then we need to decide which is more forgivable: a sin you committed or an affair between your sister and your wife that took place right under your nose. If Grace is indicted we'll have to stick to one and hope to God the voters are sympathetic.''

''Why don't I just slit my wrists on national television? That might get me some sympathy,'' Matthew drawled.

''This isn't just about you, Matthew. You're an investment, I've sold a piece of you to everyone I know. Your personal life is our business,'' she said. ''It's also about friendship, but I can't afford to put friendship first. I know you understand that.''

Matthew circled around behind her and put both his hands on her terribly slender neck. His fingers moved to her shoulders and dug into her muscles. Helen's head fell to the side and he knew that she found his closeness reassuring. That was good. He hadn't lost his touch. Helen Crane was just another woman after all and he didn't want to hear her carping. Not after a night like this.