Truly Married by Phyllis Halldorson Page B

had happened so he could see for himself that it had no bearing on her case and not worry about it all the way home.
    She was thinking about how to phrase the matter, when the attendants drove up with their cars and the opportunity was lost as Fergus hustled her into hers, then got into his own and waved her ahead.
    It was rush hour on a Friday, and traffic out of the downtown area was frustratingly slow. By the time they got to the house both Anna’s car and Tracey’s were parked in the driveway. Sharon breathed a sigh of relief. They were all there and could get this over with.
    As she unlocked the door and walked inside with Fergus she sniffed the redolent aroma of Tracey’s tuna-and-noodle casserole bubbling gently in the oven, and knew she wouldn’t be able to eat. All she wanted to do was get this confrontation over with and leave. The home she’d lived in and loved for the past four years now seemed stark and forbidding.
    A feeling of dread stole over her. Was this a portent of what her life was going to be like from now on?

Chapter Six
    T he house was quiet, with no immediate sign of either Anna or Tracey, but Sharon spotted several envelopes scattered on the small, marble-topped maple chest in the foyer and picked them up as she led Fergus into the living room. She knew they’d all be for her, since she was the last one home.
    As she sorted through them she noted that most were junk mail, but the last one was an official envelope from the Starlight Hotel where she worked. A notation on the envelope indicated that it had been delivered by special messenger, so apparently it had arrived while either Anna or Tracey was home to sign for it. She ripped it open, extracted a familiar piece of hotel stationery and unfolded it.
    She glanced at the typewritten note, then blinked and reread it as the letters blurred on the page. “Oh no,” she moaned, and bent forward slightly. She folded her arms across her waist in a reflex motion to stem the nausea that clutched at her stomach from the force of the emotional blow she’d received.
    Fergus was standing beside her. “What’s the matter?” he asked anxiously. “Sharon, what’s wrong?”
    She handed him the letter. “I’ve... I’ve been put on administrative leave without pay until the legal charges against me have been resolved.” She fought back a sob. “Dammit, Fergus, can they do that? Isn’t there something in the Constitution about being presumed innocent until proven guilty?”
    He read the letter, then folded it and put it in his suit-jacket pocket. “You bet there is,” he assured her as he turned and took her in his arms. “Don’t worry, sweetheart.” He cuddled her and rubbed his cheek in her hair. “I’ll take care of it. They can put you on involuntary leave, but I’ll make the bastards pay you for it.”
    Sharon couldn’t hold back the sobs any longer, or the tears that streamed down her face and onto his expensive coat. This had been a rotten day! It had started when she’d gotten up and learned that Tracey thought she’d murdered Floyd and was afraid to live in the same house with her. Then there had been the repeated grillings by the police and her arraignment on charges of first-degree murder, and now she’d been fired from her job. Or as close as they could legally come to firing her.
    Was there no end to it? The only good thing in this whole sorry mess was that Fergus had reentered her life, and he was only there to defend her. He was a lawyer and that was his job, but once the trial was over he’d be gone again and she’d be alone and...
    And what? Free? Or doomed to spend the rest of her life in prison?
    A shudder ran through her, and Fergus tightened his arms around her just before they were both distracted by Anna’s voice.
    “Sharon. Are you here? I thought I heard— Oops! Sorry....”
    Fergus and Sharon both looked toward the doorway, where Anna was just turning away. “Anna, wait. Don’t leave,” Sharon said as