Monday, October 27, 2003

9:30 a.m.

Monday morning arrived. Ian's arraignment was scheduled for ten-thirty in courtroom number two in the Frank Crowley Courts Building. She had promised Elton she would meet him at a quarter past the hour.

Jane dressed carefully, wanting to look her best. Wanting to appear rested and confident. Elton had warned her that considering the charges, her demeanor was important. It could sway both the jury and public opinion.

She let out a pent-up breath. No problem. All she had to do was create an illusion that was a complete lie.

The information she'd found in the PDA had tormented her. She'd had difficulty sleeping, and when she had managed to fall asleep, she had tossed and turned. She had eaten only because she knew she had to for the baby's health.

Desperate, she had turned to her work. Anne was complete. And she was beautiful. In Jane's opinion, the most beautiful, most evocative grouping in her Doll Parts series.

She owed Anne more than she could repay. Being able to immerse herself in her work, creating something of beauty though her soul had been in despair, had been her salvation. Without her art she wasn't certain she would have made it through the week-end.

She had longed to talk over what she had found in the PDA with Stacy, Dave or Elton. Had longed for their rea.s.surances.

But to utter the words would have made her a traitor to her husband and marriage. To say them aloud would have somehow made her doubts real.

So she had been alone with her horrible thoughts. The fears and insecurities that had threatened to eat her alive.

She had prayed. Had thrown herself into her work. Had walked the floors.

In the end it had come down to this: she believed Ian innocent of these crimes. He wasn't a murderer.

And she loved him.

For now, she would squash her doubts about his faithfulness. When she spoke to him, she would ask about the lunches, the phone numbers. He would have a logical explanation; she would feel foolish for having doubted him.

Following her heart had never proved to be the wrong decision before; it wouldn't this time, either.

The front buzzer sounded. That would be Dave. He had insisted on accompanying her to the arraignment.

She met him at the door. "Ready?" he asked.

She said she was and they crossed the sidewalk to his car. He held the door for her, then went around to the driver's side. They rode in silence for several miles.

The uncomfortable tone of the silence distressed her. Would this travesty touch every area of her life? Every relationship? Even one as old and comfortable as hers and Dave's?

As if reading her thoughts, he spoke. "Any developments over the weekend?"

"Not that I know of." She clasped her hands in her lap. Her palms were damp.

"Any word from Stacy?"

"She called. She seemed distracted."

"Is she coming today?"

"I don't know."

He didn't comment, though she knew what he was thinking. That she should have asked her. Expressed

that her presence would be rea.s.suring.

And it would have.

She hated the distance between her and her sibling but either didn't know how to breach it or didn't have

the energy to try. The accusations she had flung at Stacy had widened the chasm. She wished to G.o.d she

had never uttered them.

Dave found a spot in the lot nearest the court's entrance. Jane spotted Elton right away, waiting at the bottom of the front steps, just as they had arranged.

They reached the attorney and Jane introduced the two men. They shook hands.

Elton turned to her. "Are you ready?"

She forced a smile. "Rested and confident."

"Good girl."

He briefed her as they made their way into the building and through the metal detectors. "Ian pulled Judge Phister. He's tough and doesn't put up with any shenanigans, not from the attorneys, the clients or the press. Since I don't play games, it's not going to be a problem."

They crossed to the elevator and stepped into a waiting car. "Today the judge will read the charges against Ian and ask how he pleads. As you know, Ian is pleading not guilty. Since he's being charged with capital murder, there will be no bail. Then it's over until the pretrial hearings."

As if antic.i.p.ating her despair, Dave squeezed her elbow rea.s.suringly.

The elevator car whooshed to a stop on the seventh floor and Elton steered her toward the courtroom where Ian's case would be heard. Stacy stood outside the closed door. She looked tired and tense.

Their gazes met. Relief and affection rushed over Jane and she hurried toward her. "Thank you for

coming," she whispered, hugging the other woman.

"Of course I came," Stacy responded, drawing away. "You're my sister."

She and Dave embraced; she introduced herself to the lawyer. An emotion flickered across the attorney's

face, then was gone. Even as Jane wondered at it, Elton herded them into the courtroom.

No sooner had they gotten settled than the bailiff called Ian's case. A lump in her throat, Jane watched as a uniformed guard led her husband into the courtroom in cuffs. He looked at her, his expression lost.

Tears stung her eyes. Moments later, the judge read the charges; Ian pleaded not guilty and it was over, ending as quickly as it had begun.

The guard took Ian's arm to lead him away. Jane jumped to her feet. "Ian!"

He turned. Their gazes locked. Her heart lodged in her throat. He mouthed that he loved her.

And in that moment she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was innocent. That he had been

faithful to her.

Then he was gone.

Stacy touched her arm. "Jane, it's time."

She glanced at her sister. "He didn't do it. Any of it."

"I know, Jane. It's going to be okay."

"I've sent Dave for his car," Elton said. "The press is out front. Prepare yourself, it won't be pleasant."

The lawyer hurried them from the courtroom. When they cleared the elevator on the first floor, Jane saw

that several reporters were indeed waiting outside the banks of gla.s.s doors.

"Take a deep breath and let me handle this. Do not engage, Jane. No matter how much they bait you."

She nodded. With Stacy on her left and Elton on her right, they cleared the doors. The reporters spotted

her and rushed forward.

A reporter thrust a microphone in her face. "Do you have a statement, Mrs. Westbrook?"

"Did he do it?" another called out.

"Mrs. Westbrook has no comment," Elton said, pushing through the group, leading her down the stairs.

"Talk to us after the trial and the not guilty verdict."

Dave pulled up to the curb and tooted the horn. They hurried toward him.

"Is it true what they're saying, Mrs. Westbrook?" a reporter shouted as she reached the vehicle. "Was

your husband unfaithful?"

Jane froze. She turned to the reporter who had shouted the question, ignoring Elton's warning grip on her arm.

"Was your husband unfaithful?" the reporter called again.

"No," Jane answered, surprised by the strength of her voice. Her calm determination behind it. "He was

faithful and he is innocent. And I'm going to prove it."

A ripple moved through the crowd. "How?" shouted a reporter in back.

"No further comment," Elton said, steering her toward the car.

Dave threw the pa.s.senger door open. She stepped inside, fastened her safety belt, then glanced back as