well-chosen oaths. “Promise me that you won’t do anything until we’ve talked to Fergus,” she insisted. “He should have a say in this. After all, you were released in his custody.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to get permission from him—”
“Yes, I’m afraid it does,” Anna interrupted. “Almost anything you do now has possible legal ramifications. It’s not fair to either of you not to check out any sudden decision with him first.”
Sharon shrugged. “I suppose you’re right,” she admitted. “I’ll bring him home with me after the hearing this afternoon. Who knows, maybe the judge will find that there’s not enough evidence against me to charge me with anything.”
She didn’t really believe that, and even if, by some miracle, it did happen she couldn’t share a house, or a friendship, with Tracey again, now that she knew how shallow the young woman’s loyalty was.
* * *
Sharon arrived at Fergus’s hotel suite at eight-thirty and knocked on the door. He opened it, then just stood there staring at her. “You look...” He cleared his throat and started over. “I’ve never seen you looking more beautiful, but it wasn’t necessary for you to dress up to be questioned by the police.”
Just seeing him made her feel better, and she smiled and walked past him as he stood back to let her enter. “It was necessary for my own morale,” she told him as she sat down on the couch. “Wednesday when they interrogated me I was an emotional and visual wreck. My clothes were spattered with blood, and I was so shocked that I could barely function. I looked like a killer and they treated me like trash.”
Fergus had been about to sit down in the chair, but now he straightened up again and eyed her. “If you were mistreated by any of the police officers I want to know it,” he said grimly. “I’ll file complaints all the way from the local chief to the attorney general.”
She shook her head. “That’s not what I meant,” she assured him. “No one laid a hand on me. It was their attitude I’m talking about, and I’m going to insist on being treated with a reasonable amount of respect today.”
Fergus appeared relieved and sank back down into the chair. “They won’t harass you today,” he promised. “I’ll be there, and I won’t let them.”
Again she smiled. “I know. You were always there to fight my battles for me, but I’m not a teenager anymore. I want them to know I’m a woman to be treated with consideration even when my lawyer’s not around.”
* * *
The interrogation didn’t exactly go smoothly, but neither was it as horrendous as before. Fergus was a force to be reckoned with, and he severely limited its scope. He never left her side, and he wouldn’t allow her to answer questions that might remotely intimidate her, although they were mainly a rehash of actions and events she’d already admitted to before she’d had the protection of an attorney.
They were finished in time for a leisurely lunch at her favorite Greek restaurant in the University City loop area, far enough away from downtown that they eluded the persistent reporters and photographers who were becoming a nuisance.
Sharon had known all morning that she should apprise Fergus of the scene with Tracey at breakfast, but she kept putting it off, telling herself she’d do it later, after the police questioned her, after lunch, and now, after the arraignment. There were just too many things happening to her all at once. She needed a respite, however short, before she could face this last heartbreak.
* * *
The arraignment was short and to the point. The judge informed her that she was being charged with murder in the first degree and asked if she would plead guilty or not guilty. Fergus answered for her. “My client pleads not guilty, Your Honor.”
Since she was represented by an attorney, the judge merely noted the plea and dismissed them without advising her of her rights under the law. A
“That doesn’t mean I have to get permission from him—”
“Yes, I’m afraid it does,” Anna interrupted. “Almost anything you do now has possible legal ramifications. It’s not fair to either of you not to check out any sudden decision with him first.”
Sharon shrugged. “I suppose you’re right,” she admitted. “I’ll bring him home with me after the hearing this afternoon. Who knows, maybe the judge will find that there’s not enough evidence against me to charge me with anything.”
She didn’t really believe that, and even if, by some miracle, it did happen she couldn’t share a house, or a friendship, with Tracey again, now that she knew how shallow the young woman’s loyalty was.
* * *
Sharon arrived at Fergus’s hotel suite at eight-thirty and knocked on the door. He opened it, then just stood there staring at her. “You look...” He cleared his throat and started over. “I’ve never seen you looking more beautiful, but it wasn’t necessary for you to dress up to be questioned by the police.”
Just seeing him made her feel better, and she smiled and walked past him as he stood back to let her enter. “It was necessary for my own morale,” she told him as she sat down on the couch. “Wednesday when they interrogated me I was an emotional and visual wreck. My clothes were spattered with blood, and I was so shocked that I could barely function. I looked like a killer and they treated me like trash.”
Fergus had been about to sit down in the chair, but now he straightened up again and eyed her. “If you were mistreated by any of the police officers I want to know it,” he said grimly. “I’ll file complaints all the way from the local chief to the attorney general.”
She shook her head. “That’s not what I meant,” she assured him. “No one laid a hand on me. It was their attitude I’m talking about, and I’m going to insist on being treated with a reasonable amount of respect today.”
Fergus appeared relieved and sank back down into the chair. “They won’t harass you today,” he promised. “I’ll be there, and I won’t let them.”
Again she smiled. “I know. You were always there to fight my battles for me, but I’m not a teenager anymore. I want them to know I’m a woman to be treated with consideration even when my lawyer’s not around.”
* * *
The interrogation didn’t exactly go smoothly, but neither was it as horrendous as before. Fergus was a force to be reckoned with, and he severely limited its scope. He never left her side, and he wouldn’t allow her to answer questions that might remotely intimidate her, although they were mainly a rehash of actions and events she’d already admitted to before she’d had the protection of an attorney.
They were finished in time for a leisurely lunch at her favorite Greek restaurant in the University City loop area, far enough away from downtown that they eluded the persistent reporters and photographers who were becoming a nuisance.
Sharon had known all morning that she should apprise Fergus of the scene with Tracey at breakfast, but she kept putting it off, telling herself she’d do it later, after the police questioned her, after lunch, and now, after the arraignment. There were just too many things happening to her all at once. She needed a respite, however short, before she could face this last heartbreak.
* * *
The arraignment was short and to the point. The judge informed her that she was being charged with murder in the first degree and asked if she would plead guilty or not guilty. Fergus answered for her. “My client pleads not guilty, Your Honor.”
Since she was represented by an attorney, the judge merely noted the plea and dismissed them without advising her of her rights under the law. A
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