Free Truly Married by Phyllis Halldorson Page B

witness stand.”
    So they continued all afternoon. Fergus probed, insinuated, even accused her of withholding information, while Sharon reached deeper into her memory and seethed at his callous disregard for her feelings.
    * * *
    Fergus hated what he was doing to her. Every time she winced or cried out in indignation at his offensive questions it was like a knife in his heart, but he couldn’t let up. He had to extract every bit of information she had, even what was buried deep in her subconscious.
    The police would question her again before the arraignment, and although he’d be there this time to protect her as much as the law allowed, it could still get brutally savage. Also, he needed to test her breaking point. To see how far she could be pushed before she started fighting back and making herself more prone to errors in judgment as well as memory.
    Fergus sincerely doubted that Sharon had ever had an enemy. She was sweet and kind, and liked by everyone she met. Unless he gave her a preview of what she would be subjected to by the D.A. in a court trial, she’d never hold up over the long run.
    Damn that bastard Vancleave! It enraged Fergus just to think about him putting his slimy hands on Sharon and making vulgar propositions to her. Fergus silently vowed that if the police ever caught up with whoever had killed the man, he, Fergus, would defend the guilty party without charge and aim for an acquittal. Or at least the lightest possible sentence.
    Sharon’s endurance finally snapped late in the afternoon when he sank to a new low and asked her how many male employees of the hotel she’d slept with. He doubted the judge would allow her to answer a question like that, but that didn’t mean the D.A. wouldn’t ask it.
    She came totally unglued. He happened to be standing at the time, and with a howl of indignation and rage, she sprang off the couch and hurled herself at him, arms swinging and feet kicking. She took him by surprise and landed several hard blows, all the time yelling denials and calling him names that questioned his parentage and his honor, before he managed to overpower her and pin her arms to her sides.
    “Calm down, sweetheart,” he shouted over the noise she was making while she continued to struggle in his restraining embrace. “I don’t expect you to answer that question, but I had to ask it to see how you’d react.”
    She stopped struggling and stiffened as she gaped at him, eyes wide. “How I’d react? How’d you think I’d react? No, don’t answer that. I’ll show you. You’re fired! You might as well pack up and go back to Chicago, because I wouldn’t let you defend me if you were the last lawyer on earth. I’d get the gas chamber for sure.”
    Once more she started twisting and turning in his arms. “Let go of me, dammit!”
    “I will,” Fergus assured her. “Just as soon as you cool down enough to listen to me. I had to know how you’d react under stress to that question when you weren’t expecting it, because in one form or another it’s going to be asked of you.”
    Again she stopped squirming, and glared at him. “You wouldn’t,” she gasped.
    “No, I wouldn’t, but the prosecution will,” he said through clenched teeth. “They have a strong case. You were seen going into the office in a huff, everyone in the waiting room heard you and Vancleave quarreling and just minutes later you were found bending over the body with the murder weapon in your hand.”
    She slumped against him, and he released her and put a few feet of space between them. “All they need for a conviction is to show that you were capable of killing your boss in a fit of rage, and you did a good job of convincing a jury of that by the way you attacked me just now. If you react that way in court the prosecution sure as hell won’t let me get away with portraying you as a naively innocent young woman who was being unlawfully sexually harassed by this creep. Not without a fight, and believe me