Free Betrayal of Trust by J. A. Jance Page B

and an even shorter tank top followed her. The girl carried a second tray loaded with glasses, spoons, various sweeteners, and a pitcher of iced tea. The hair, the skin, the vivid blue eyes indelibly marked this sweet young thing as her mother’s daughter.
    “Zoe, this is Mr. Beaumont and Ms. Soames,” Marsha said. “These are the people I was telling you about. This is Zoe, my younger daughter. Would you please go get Gerry’s prescription bottle off the counter in his bathroom? It’s the one he’s supposed to take every four hours.”
    Zoe gave us a quick smile, then dashed off to do as bidden while Marsha handed out paper napkins. Mel took the tray of sandwiches and passed it around while Marsha poured the iced tea. Then she settled on a straight-backed chair and pulled it close to Gerry’s.
    “I suppose you’ve told them the whole sordid mess?”
    Gerry nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I have.”
    Zoe returned to the room with a pill bottle. She handed that to her stepfather, grabbed two sandwiches from the stack, and then raced off in the direction of the stairs.
    “Zoe,” Marsha commanded. “Remember your manners.”
    Zoe slid to a stop on the hardwood floor on the landing. “Nice meeting you,” she said over her shoulder. “Bye.” Then she disappeared up the stairs.
    The truth is, Governor Longmire wasn’t much of a cook. The iced tea was okay, but the tuna sandwiches were just that—tuna. There was butter on the bread, but that was it. No mayo. No seasoning of any kind. If this was Marsha’s idea of feeding folks, the whole family must have dreaded the cook’s day off.
    Once Zoe was gone, Marsha reached out and gave Gerry’s knee a comforting pat.
    “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she said. “When I found out he’d been sneaking in and out of the house, I just went ballistic. I couldn’t believe he’d pull a stunt like that with you so sick. I thought that taking away his electronic equipment was the only punishment that would have any kind of impact, but then when I saw the video . . .”
    “I know,” her husband said. “I’m sure you did the right thing. That goes for calling in Garvin as well. But if Josh really did do this terrible thing”—Gerry paused for a moment, gathering himself—“then I should pack up and move the two of us out of here right now. None of this has leaked into the public yet, has it?”
    That question was directed at Mel and me. We both shook our heads.
    “That’s a blessing,” Gerry said. “But it’s a reprieve that won’t last long. Even if these folks don’t do it, someone will leak word to the press. Once that happens, the opposition will be calling for your head on a platter. The party will drop you like a hot potato. Just you wait, the next time you’re up for reelection, the party bigwigs will be backing someone else in the primary. If Josh and I leave now, before this all hits the fan, we might be able to do some damage control.”
    “You’re not leaving,” Marsha said firmly. “Neither one of you is leaving.”
    There were steps on the stairs—heavy steps—that were definitely not Zoe’s.
    Garvin McCarthy poked his head around the end of the archway. “You shouldn’t be talking to these people,” he said curtly, addressing the governor. “You shouldn’t, and neither should your husband.”
    I didn’t like it that he spoke about the First Husband rather than to the First Husband when Gerry Willis was right there in the room. Subtract two points from Mr. McCarthy, although, being a criminal defense lawyer, in my book he was already in negative territory to begin with.
    “Call me at the office,” McCarthy added. “Or on my cell. You have them both.”
    Marsha nodded.
    “Don’t bother showing me out,” he added gruffly. “I know the way.”
    “He’s an arrogant bastard, but he’s also the best money can buy,” Marsha said, turning to Gerry. “He’ll do what needs to be done.”
    This time Gerry was the one who