Suspect Passions (30 page)

Now, with that perspective came the realization that many other things
were
hers to command. One of those was her life and how she chose to live it. As Izzy used to say, “The truth is welcome in heaven.” Regan dealt with some version of the truth every day practicing law. Now she needed to re-evaluate her truth in the cold, hard light of new information.

Martha was in town and she didn’t know why. How had she found out about Regan’s interest in Syd? Why did she feel the need to rub Regan’s nose in some ancient liaison with Syd and to further expose Syd’s affair with yet another woman? Where had she gotten that tidbit? What was her motivation for such an unkind revelation? Was Syd really as genuinely surprised by Martha’s appearance as she seemed? Was there a logical, forgivable explanation for this whole fiasco?

Regan forced her emotions aside and came to the only logical conclusion. She needed more information. There were entirely too many questions for which she didn’t have answers. She’d allowed Martha to destroy her life once. This time she refused to let it happen quite so easily. Why should she accept Martha’s warped, self-serving statements as truth? Syd might not be the most emotionally tuned-in woman she’d ever met, but to Regan’s knowledge she’d always been honest. If nothing else, she owed Syd a chance to explain. If not for Syd, then for herself. She couldn’t release Syd without a fighting chance. It simply was not possible.

Her disgust with the idea of Syd and Martha together wasn’t about her ex-partner. Who Martha slept with, fucked, or loved didn’t concern her—as long as that person wasn’t Syd. She had no feelings of love, jealousy, betrayal, or anger toward Martha. Any emotional connection she’d had to her ex was severed long ago. But the idea of Martha’s or anyone else’s hands on Syd’s body provoked an entirely different array of emotions worthy of exploration.

She powered up her cell phone and checked messages: seven from Syd desperate to explain and one from Martha. Old business first. Regan started her car.

*

Martha’s suite in the downtown Radisson was indicative of the woman, needlessly extravagant. When she opened the door wearing a negligee, Regan wanted to deck her, on principle alone. Instead, she swept past her outstretched arms and crossed the room to stand at the balcony windows, as far away from her as possible.

“Don’t be like that, baby.”

“This is not a social call.” Regan employed her courtroom voice, determined to remain objective and professional as she gathered the necessary information. “I need a few facts, if you’re capable of distinguishing them from the continuous web of deceit you weave.” Martha drifted toward her, sheer fabric floating behind her like wings. Her expression was that of a vamp intent on the seduction and consumption of another victim. “Why so hostile?”

Regan sidestepped her advance. “If you ever cared about me, please just answer a few questions. It won’t take long.” Regan knew it sounded like she was begging and she didn’t care. She didn’t care what Martha thought of her anymore because she’d do anything to find out what she needed to know.

Martha glared at her. “My God, I should’ve guessed this sooner. I thought you were coming by to talk about us. You’re in love with this girl, aren’t you?”

Hearing the words out loud thrilled Regan’s heart and quickened her pulse, but hearing them from Martha made her want to slap her. She had no right to make assumptions about her life, especially since she’d tried to destroy it twice. “It’s none of your business how I feel. What was that scene about tonight? Why are you here, Martha?”

Regan’s question seemed to infuse Martha with fresh confidence. She captured Regan’s hand and brought it to her overflowing breasts. “I was hoping for a reconciliation.”

“Are you
crazy?
” Regan snatched her hand from the trap and backed away. “It’s been a year. You don’t love me, probably never did. I don’t love you, and I could never trust you again. Do I need to go on?”

The bluntness of her rejection didn’t seem to faze Martha at all. “Well, you can’t blame a girl for trying.” As quickly as she’d turned on the charm, it was gone. She sashayed to the minibar and retrieved a bottle of wine. “Care for a drink?”

“No, Martha, I don’t want a drink. I want answers.”

She motioned to the sofa, which Regan ignored and took a chair opposite. “No reason we can’t be civil about this, is there?”

“If you answer my questions honestly, I’ll be civil. Where did you hear about me and Syd? And how do you know about her partner’s wife?”

“Some bar I stopped by tonight on my way into town, the Cop Out. Girls will tell you anything with enough drinks. You know that.” She settled onto the sofa, wine bottle in hand, and crossed her legs. “Besides the trial was big news. It even made the Nashville paper.”

“And Syd?”

“God, she is a sweet little thing, isn’t she?” Martha rubbed a finger suggestively across her lips.

Regan fought an urge to flog her. Her face heated with anger and the suppression of rage at this vulgar and highly insensitive woman. What had she ever found attractive about her?

“I’m teasing you, baby. I know every emotion you ever had. You’d like to choke me right now, wouldn’t you? But I made my point. You’re in love with her.”

“I’m going to if you don’t tell me what I want to know.”

“Okay, okay. I met her about three years ago at the same bar when Angie and I were in town for the women’s ACC basketball tournament. I bought her a few drinks and we went to my hotel room. I was totally into her but she wasn’t feeling the love, if you get my drift. We did a little grab ass, then for some reason she turned chilly. I finally got off on her leg, fully dressed, as I recall. It wasn’t one of my better performances. Afterward, she bolted.”

Regan stared at her in disbelief, the heated image she’d carried of them together earlier bleeding from her mind. It was unlike Martha to reveal anything less than a report of stellar sexual performance, so her story had some credence. “Let me get this straight. You were with the woman you cheated on me with, and you were cheating on
her?
You took Syd back to the hotel room you were sharing with your mistress? And when she wasn’t into you and wouldn’t strip, you humped her leg? Does that about sum it up?”

Martha shifted uncomfortably on the sofa and took a swig straight from the wine bottle. “I wouldn’t put it quite that indelicately, but the facts are accurate.”

“Did you ever see Syd again?”

“No. As a matter of fact, when I was trying to explain why we needed to hurry, it inadvertently came out that I was in a relationship and
that’s
when she went all cold on me.”

“You are unbelievable.” Regan rose from her chair and started toward the door.

She wanted to hate Martha for what she’d done to their life of fifteen years and for the pain she’d caused. But a preview of Martha’s future flashed through her mind. It looked remarkably like her past. She would be forever chasing women, convinced that the next orgasm would be better than the last and the progressively younger elixir of life she sucked from her lovers would prolong her vitality. She would never be content. Before much longer the supply of willing young women would dwindle; Martha would be competing with younger, more appealing cheats. How pathetic.

As she closed the door, all Regan could feel for her was pity and sorrow.

Regan stared at Syd’s loft door like it was the top of Pandora’s Box, wondering if she really wanted to open it and realizing she had no choice. If she walked away now, she’d never know what might have happened, and that was unacceptable. She felt too much, wanted too much, not to explore the possibilities. Tentatively, she raised her hand and knocked. The door opened almost immediately and her heartbeat faltered as Syd stood in front of her.

Her eyes were red rimmed, her face splotchy, and her cherry silk blouse dotted with dark spots. “I’ve been so worried. Are you okay?” Her voice was high-pitched with stress and stuffy from crying.

“I needed to think.” Regan controlled the urge to take Syd in her arms and comfort her. The pain in Syd’s green eyes seemed to saturate her entire body. “May I come in?”

Syd stepped aside. “Of course, I’m sorry. So…you’re…” Syd stopped as if she didn’t have the right to speak. Her usually confident posture and enticing cockiness had disappeared. In their place was a sense of loss and despair.

“I think
I
need to ask the questions,” Regan said.

“Of course, let’s sit.” Syd motioned toward the balcony. When they were seated in chairs facing each other, she asked, “What do you want to know?”

Regan’s insides knotted with tension as she considered once again if she really wanted to hear what Syd had to say. Martha had admitted to a less-than-perfect seduction, which was totally against her self-serving nature. For that reason, Regan believed her story. What if the two versions differed? Who would she believe? Either way, she had to know.

“Tell me about your…whatever it was…with Martha. Everything.”

Syd looked dismayed. “Are you sure?”

Regan nodded. “I need to know what happened.”

“I’ve been trying to remember, and I think I’ve got it all straight. I met her at Jesse’s place a few years ago, during the women’s ACC tournament. We had a few drinks and I went back to her hotel. Something about the whole situation just didn’t feel right…I remember that.”

Regan struggled to keep her voice even and her tone unaffected by the jumble of emotions that rolled inside her. “Why? Wasn’t she just another conquest?” It hurt to ask the question, and Syd’s startled expression said she felt the sting as well.

“I can’t explain it. Maybe just instinct. When we got back to her room, it was pretty obvious that two people were staying there. I asked and she said her boss was with her and not to worry because her partner was at home. That’s when I made an exit as fast as possible.”

“You didn’t have sex with her?”

“No, we didn’t even get undressed. She was rubbing up against me and I just left. I’m not a home wrecker.”

“Except with your colleague’s wife?” Regan didn’t think a slap would’ve been as painful as she watched tears well in Syd’s eyes. “I have to know, Syd.” As if the simple statement could explain all the insecurities she felt and her need to have only the truth between them.

Syd nodded, and swiped at the tears. “It’s all right. I don’t want us to have any secrets.”

Regan felt some of the tension leave her body. Syd’s story had roughly approximated Martha’s, and she didn’t seem to be holding back any details. Her desire to clear the air appeared to be genuine.

“You saw me with her,” Syd said with obvious difficulty. “That day…in the restroom. I thought her name was Lacy, but it’s Priscilla.”

Regan felt like someone reached in and squeezed the blood from her heart. Every agonizing statement from Syd’s mouth was played out across her face. Her chin quivered and her voice wavered. The ache in Regan’s chest grew with each honest line of confession.

“We met about the time of the Nartey shooting. She’d seen combat in Iraq and was as messed up as I was. We got each other in that sense, I suppose…understood the toll that killing takes.” Syd’s affinity for this woman was apparent in the softness and reverence of her tone.

Regan was moved by her sincerity and her willingness to express the feelings that accompanied her revelations. She was also a little envious of this woman who’d been able to console Syd when she needed it most. “Go on.”

“I didn’t know she was married, much less to one of my squad mates. If I’d been aware of that, it wouldn’t have happened between us. But I didn’t.”

Regan’s mind replayed the scene she’d been unable to erase since that night. She could still see Syd’s head thrown back in orgasm and the sinewy, mocha-skinned woman’s hand thrust deep inside her. She clutched the arms of her chair, her entire being railing against the pictures in her head. Could she manage the jealousy they evoked and, more to the point, would she ever dislodge them from her mind? “Does her husband know about you?”

“Yes, she told him. I wanted to but she begged me to let her. She wanted to be honest with him so they could start over. They love each other very much, I think.”

Regan ran out of questions and looked toward the city skyline, taking stock of her feelings about everything that had transpired the last several hours. She’d been exposed to more of Syd’s colorful past than she wanted, but with it came another side of Sydney Cabot she wasn’t used to, her free-flowing emotions and her willingness to share them. Syd hadn’t offered excuses, only explanations, and Regan believed her when she said she’d wanted to face her lover’s husband. She let out a long breath of relief that caught halfway up her throat. As far as Syd’s integrity was concerned, she found nothing lacking, and she could see why Izzy had chosen a friendship with her. But, could she trust Syd with her heart? Was she ready for that level of responsibility and commitment?

She returned her attention to the woman seated across from her. Syd sat very still, hands clasped in her lap, waiting, Regan realized, for some response from her. She didn’t have one. Maybe it was her own fear or the look in Syd’s eyes that kept her from speaking. She needed something more from her.

As if sensing her reluctance, Syd slid from her chair, knelt in front of her, and placed her hands on Regan’s knees. “I’m so sorry for everything I’ve put you through. I’ve been thinking about this a lot. From the minute we met, I’ve been nothing but a constant source of frustration and pain to you, and I’d do anything to change that.”