Privileged Witness (8 page)

''You wouldn't have given me the time of day if I told the truth. No one does. Not if you tell the truth,'' Grace complained.

''If that's the way you feel then I might as well walk right now,'' Josie countered.

''If you think its best, I understand.'' Grace waved her away, fingers itching to scratch at something. ''Go. It's fine. It doesn't really matter what happens to me as long as Matthew is all right.''

Grace's little tirade was harsh, her words chosen from conviction, not resignation. Yet it was clear that she was scared. The clothes and the jewels, the make-up and the hair could not camouflage what was at Grace McCreary's core. She believed she deserved to be sacrificed just like every other abused woman Josie had ever known.

''Jesus,'' Josie breathed. ''Who ever made you think you weren't worth spit? Matthew? Was he the one?''

''Don't be ridiculous. Matthew loves me the same way he loved you.'' Grace jolted upright. Her face went pale at Josie's accusation.

''What about Michelle? Did he love her that way, too?''

''Of course. Don't even think that he didn't,'' Grace breathed. ''But we're talking about what the world is like. Most people don't stick around when things get hard. You don't blame them, you just expect it. You deal with it. You're grateful when someone does. The way Matthew came back for me.''

Josie picked up a pen and taped it once on the table. She knew it would do no good to argue with Grace or agonize over her skewed view of honor and loyalty. The pen went through her fingers again as she thought about her own situation. Her plate was full with Hannah, Archer, her own needs and plans. She was Grace McCreary's lawyer, not her shrink or her friend or her personal champion. The pen twisted once more before she dropped it.

''You're right,'' Josie said ''The world is imperfect and so am I. But I'm good at my job and I take it seriously. All you have to do is be straight with me, Grace, and leave my history with Matthew out of this. I gave you the time of day out of courtesy to him, so stop trying to play that card.''

Grace's chin lowered, her lashes fluttered then she fixed her gaze on Josie. She licked her lips and Josie could swear she heard the gears of Grace McCreary's mind working. What she really heard was a question.

''Can I have some water?''

Josie got up. Babcock was waiting in the hall. She asked for water and when he came back he had two cups and news.

''I'm going to transport her,'' he said.

''Don't be ridiculous. She'll post bail,'' Josie scoffed as she took the Styrofoam cups.

''The DA says no bail. No special treatment.''

''Tell the DA she'll post the max. You can't keep her unless you're denying bail on special circumstances,'' Josie argued.

''That's how we're holding her,'' he answered.

''Charming,'' Josie muttered just before she closed the door with her foot.

She put a cup in front of Grace and sat down. Grace put her hands around it and looked everywhere but into Josie's eyes and that ticked Josie off royally. She had no use for martyrs or teases. She had no use for women who hid their guilt behind feminine wiles. Kristin Davis, the woman who had shaken Josie's faith in both human nature and the legal system had pushed Josie to the breaking point. Now here she was again with a rich woman who wanted her help but insisted on playing games. Or was she? Josie was close enough to see Grace's lips quivering, naked without the gloss; eyes tired looking with the smudged mascara. She was pathetic, vulnerable, fearful. If it was an act it was darn good.

''Look at me, Grace. Tell me what happened that night?''

A tremor shook Grace from the bottom up, until her spine was locked, every muscle in her body was taut and the story was haltingly told.

''When I got there Michelle was dressing and I couldn't figure out why. I wanted to know where she was going. She told me . . . It was nonsense what she told me. . .she was angry with Matthew.''

Josie listened, knowing now was the time to listen even though every fiber of her being wanted to know what Matthew and done to make his wife despair.

''She told me to leave and threatened to have me evicted if I didn't. I had never seen her angry like that before. When I tried to sit her down, she screamed at me not to touch her. She ran out of her bedroom and I ran after her. I thought she was going to the front door to open it so I would leave but she went to the balcony instead. I don't know if Michelle planned on jumping but I sensed what was going to happen. God, it made me feel sick. . .I couldn't speak. . . I couldn't move. . .''

The cup danced in Grace's hand and she let go of it. She planted her elbows on the table. Her forehead fell forward onto her clasped hands. Grace sucked in her breath but she couldn't seem to get it deep enough to fill her lungs. She panicked and breathed faster.

''I grabbed for her. I reacted. . . . I reached out and I think I touched her.''

She gestured with one hand, painting a swirl as if cleaning an imaginary window with a view to the past. Then she put her hands on the side of her head and pushed at her hair, slicking it back, plastering down.

''Michelle looked back at me. She was so beautiful. . .'' her voice got smaller as the story got bigger. ''Every bit of her face was so gorgeous and awful all at the same time. She should have been happy and she wasn't. I knew in my heart what was happening, but I don't know exactly what did happen. One minute Michelle was with me. . . She was right there. . .''

Suddenly, Grace threw herself back in her chair and shoved the cup away from her. The water waved and jumped the rim. Her hands came together and that obscenely large emerald was turned and twirled until the skin beneath it looked bloody red while the heels of her hands rested in the wet puddle.

''I heard our voices. I heard her voice. I thought we were arguing. Or maybe it was my voice and I was begging. And then. . .'' The breath she took was shallow. Short. Shorter still. ''. . .and then. . .she was. . .just. . . gone.''

Grace opened her hands as if to show Josie she held no secrets.

''I didn't see her anymore. I didn't hear her voice. She didn't scream.'' Grace's hands lowered to the table palms down. She let them slip off until she was holding it by the edge with her fingertips. In a daze, she repeated herself. ''She didn't scream.''

''Then what?'' Josie whispered.

Grace shook her head. The horror of that moment and that night was forgotten. Her shoulders squared and her hands were put into her lap.

''I ran away. I ran through the living room and I opened the door and I left.''

''You didn't go downstairs and check on your sister-in-law? You didn't want to see if she was alive?''

''No one could have survived that fall. I knew that. '' Grace answered, wiping away an errant tear with the back of her hand. ''I was in shock. I got in my car and went home. I waited for someone to come but no one did.''

''Did you call Matthew?''

''No,'' Grace said sorrowfully. ''That would have been so wrong.''

''Don't you think Matthew would have wanted to know what happened?''

''Yes, of course. He just shouldn't have heard it from me. I've caused him so much hurt in his life. I didn't want him to look at me and know that I couldn't save her. Don't you see? He would have blamed me for not saving her.'' She shook her head as she bowed it in shame. ''But I didn't think about that until later. I only thought that I was afraid and I didn't want anyone to find me there.''

''But if it was a suicide, why would you care?''

Grace leaned far over the table, Josie did the same, drawn in by her deep voice, and the eyes close as the double barrel of a shotgun.

''I just didn't want to make it worse,'' she answered conspiratorially. Before Josie could suggest that nothing was worse than Michelle McCreary going off the balcony, Babcock was back wanting to take Grace away. That was just plain wrong. She stood up and put herself between Babcock and Grace.

''Let me call the deputy who pulled the case,'' Josie insisted. ''There's absolutely no reason to hold her.''

''I'm sorry, Ms. Bates, this isn't my call.''

Babcock passed her and reached for Grace with one hand while he retrieved his cuffs with the other. Grace whimpered and shrank away. She leapt from the table. Her chair toppled and fell as Josie tried to jockey between them again.

''Come on, Babcock.'' She pushed him back. He flinched and caught her hand. Josie threw her hands out and backed off. An assault charge would do neither of them any good but she didn't have to be quiet.

''Give me five minutes to run it down. That's all the time I'll need to work on it.''

Josie's head snapped left and right, from Babcock to Grace. Babcock was listening but he was moving in on Grace even as she backed up against the wall. Her hands were out to ward him off.

''Josie, call Matthew,'' Grace pleaded. ''Tell Matthew I need him to help me. I can't go to jail. Please, Josie. Don't let them lock me up.''

Expertly, Babcock cornered Grace McCreary. His hand was on her wrist, he twisted her arm behind her back. She bent forward and cried out, hurting herself as she struggled. There was a snap and a ratchet of metal as the teeth caught and tightened. Josie was right there, holding Grace's shoulders, talking to her, steadying her. Grace's free hand snatched at Josie, catching at her blouse.

''Oh, God. Oh, God,'' Grace cried and clutched at the air until Josie grabbed her hand and held it tight as the litany continued. ''Please don't do this, detective. Please, don't let them lock me away. Where's Matthew? Please call Matthew. . .''

Josie's jaw set as she was dragged deep into the rumble of her hysteria, pulled into Grace's whirlpool of fear.

Don't abandon me. Stay with me. Don't go. Save me.

''Grace. Grace, listen. Look at me. Focus on me. Grace.'' Josie called her name and when Grace calmed it was Josie who helped bend her arm so that Babcock could cuff her.

''Grace. Stand still. Stop. Stop,'' Josie ordered her gently. ''I'll find Matthew but you have to think now. You have to take care of yourself. Give me time, Grace. . . .''

Josie's arm went around Grace McCreary's shoulders. Her fingers pulsed with Grace's trembling. Then Josie's eyes touched Babcock's and held. She didn't like to beg but it wasn't beneath her. In the next second the sound of metal on metal cut through the room again. Grace jerked. There was an accusation in Josie's eyes but it faded to gratitude when he stepped away and secured the cuffs at his belt as Grace latched on to Josie.

''Thank you.'' Josie acknowledged the favor with a curt nod, a look of admiration as she held on to Grace.

''It's all I can do,'' he said to Josie then addressed Grace. ''Ms. McCreary.''

Grace understood that a favor had been granted. With a deep breath, she let go of Josie, and held herself erect. The muscles in Grace's jaw twitched and ran tight down her neck. Within moments the scent of fear had been diluted by that of acceptance. It was as if Grace was gone, leaving her body to deal with the likes of a common cop and a lawyer who, without the trappings of the court, was nothing more than a powerless woman. Babcock was leading Grace out the door when Josie stopped them. There was something she had to know.

''Why did Matthew's wife kill herself?'' She asked. Grace didn't look back as she answered.

''I couldn't tell you.''

And then she was gone.

CHAPTER 11

Hot. Dark. Night.

Josie sat in the Jeep in a nearly empty parking lot. Door open. One foot on the running board. The other stretched out in front of her. Foot flat on the ground. It wasn't late but it was late enough. Josie called Faye. Hannah's party at Gallery C was wrapping up. Three paintings had sold. It was an unbelievable evening, Faye enthused and Josie couldn't argue. It had been an unbelievable night all around.

Assured that Faye would see Hannah home, Josie swung both legs into the car and dug in her purse for her keys. What she found instead gave her pause. It was Grace McCreary's business card, pushed across the table at the restaurant, the little card that enticed Josie so early in the day. Flipping on the overhead light, Josie checked the address for Matthew McCreary's campaign headquarters on Pine Street. Spitting distance. Tossing it aside, she fired up the engine and threw the Jeep into gear. Tim Douglas might still be toiling. Maybe he would be curious about what happened to Grace McCreary. Maybe he could tell Josie how to reach Matthew. Maybe, if Josie was real lucky, Matthew would be there, too.

God help him if he was burning the midnight oil.

''Can I help you?''

Josie looked around the seemingly empty office only to find she wasn't alone after all. A woman was nearly hidden behind the mountain of envelopes. Her head popped up and the tower of paper started to tumble. With an uncomfortable laugh she righted the mess and grinned at Josie. The woman was passingly attractive and had the ridiculous aura of a true believer: exhausted, befuddled, yet radiating a lightness of being that only comes from being brainlessly in love with a man, his politics or both.

''I'm looking for Matthew McCreary,'' Josie said.

''Oh, he's. . .''

''Matthew is out, Ms. Bates.''

The woman looked over her shoulder. Tim Douglas smiled at Josie as he put his hand on the woman's shoulder. ''It's okay Francis. I'll take care of this lady. Why don't you go on home.''

''Oh, I couldn't possibly. These need to get out tomorrow and I'm so far behind.''

''I'm going to have to tell Matthew that you're working too hard. You know how he feels about people giving too much.'' Tim lectured lightly, got her on her feet smoothly and moved her to the door. ''I'd hate to have to ask him to talk to you privately about wearing yourself out on his behalf.''

''But I don't mind at all. . .''

Francis's face brightened at the prospect a few minutes alone with Matthew McCreary. But it was not to be. Josie didn't hear the rest of the conversation as Tim steered Francis out the door. He returned with an apologetic smile, his hands clasped together, asking Josie's pardon for keeping her waiting.

''Sorry about that. But, hey, I owe you an apology. I guess I should have stuck around the police station to see if you needed any help. My fault. I just didn't know what the protocol is in a situation like this.''