note that was left for her the night he was arrested, then the roses the night of her opening.

He visibly struggled to collect himself, his emotions. "Why didn't you tell me right away?" he asked finally, tone vibrating with hurt.

"I didn't want to upset you."

"Dammit, Jane, I'm your husband."

"I'm sorry." She glanced at the guard, then lowered her voice. "Don't be angry."

"I'm not angry. Just...I've got to get out of here. How can I protect you when I'm locked up? Dear

Jesus."

"You will get out of here, Ian. You're innocent."

"I used to think that mattered. But now I'm not so sure."

The defeat in his voice broke her heart. The bitterness that was so foreign to the man she knew and

loved. "Don't you do that, Ian Westbrook. Don't you dare give up on me. I'm not strong enough to do

this alone."

He struggled to pull himself together. "I'm so worried about you. About our baby."

"I'm going to be fine. The baby's fine. Stacy stayed with me. She's promised to catch this guy."

"She's a cop," he said. "The cops are convinced they got their man. Case closed."

"She promised to investigate. I believe her."

His expression altered slightly. "I see a lot's changed since I've been locked up."

Something in his tone got her back up. "Life goes on, Ian. For better or worse."

"For better?"

"You know what I meant." She let out a frustrated breath. "Dave told me you'd feel this way."

She saw immediately that had been the wrong thing to say. "What the h.e.l.l does Dave have to do with this?"

"He's my friend, Ian. I'm grateful he's there for me."

"But I'm not there for you?"

Anger shot through her. "How can you be? Thirty minutes a week isn't quite enough support right now."

"You think this isn't tearing me apart? Knowing you're alone out there...turning to others for comfort. He probably even drove you here today."

He saw by her expression that it was true. His face flamed with color. "Good old Dave, always there.

Johnny on the spot."

"Why are you picking a fight with me? We only have a few more minutes." Aware of those minutes ticking past, she laid her hand on the gla.s.s. "I don't want to waste them arguing."

He ignored her plea. "If you want to know why, ask Dave. I'm sure he'll have some insight."

She dropped her hand, hurt. Feeling betrayed. She masked both with anger. "You're right, Ian. I do need some insight. Why was Elle Vanmeer's phone number in your PalmPilot?"

He looked startled. "What?"

"You heard me. Her number's in your PalmPilot. So's La Plaza's. Want to tell me why?"

She saw several different emotions chase across his face as he struggled with what she was saying. "You

promised they couldn't poison your mind against me. How long was that promise good for? A week? Less?"

"This isn't about them. It's about what I need. I need an answer, Ian."

"But you shouldn't need one. I'm your husband. It's my baby you're carrying, Jane. Mine. Doesn't that mean anything to you anymore?"

"That was low, Ian."

"And your accusation wasn't?"

"I didn't accuse you of anything. I asked you a question. Is that a guilty conscience I hear talking?"

"It must be." He motioned with his free hand. "I'm wearing an orange jumpsuit. That makes me guilty,

right?"

Tears stung her eyes. She lashed back at him. "What about the long lunches? The undesignated two-hour blocks of time? Also in your PalmPilot." For what seemed like an eternity, he remained silent. When he finally spoke, his tone vibrated with despair. "Now it seems I have to defend myself to everyone. Even my wife."

"I talked to Mona. She said you married me for my money. That you had never been faithful to anyone."

His features twisted with pain. He stood. "You have to decide who you're going to believe in. Me and

our love. Or what everyone else is saying."

She followed him to his feet. "The police are going to ask you the same thing in court."

"And I'll answer them. Goodbye, Jane."

He hung up the receiver and signaled the guard that the visit was over. She called his name. He didn't

respond, simply turned his back and walked away."

"Don't go!" She pounded on the gla.s.s. "Ian!"

A guard caught her arm before she could strike the gla.s.s again. "That's enough, ma'am. Step away from the window."

Jane nodded and did as he ordered, vision blurred by tears. He escorted her back to the waiting room.

Dave was on his cell phone but ended the call when he spotted her.

"How'd it go?"

She shook her head, unable to meet his eyes, knowing if she did, she would burst into tears.

They headed outside, then crossed the parking lot to his car. After they'd climbed in and buckled up,

Dave angled toward her, making no move to start the engine. "We're not going anywhere until you talk to me. You know that, right?"

She tried to laugh, but it came out as a choked sob. "We fought."

"I'm sorry."

"Me, too." She pressed her lips together, composing herself. "It was fine at first. I told him everything that's been going on and he got...upset. Because he couldn't help. Because he was concerned. But when I mentioned you, he...he was awful, Dave."

"Probably jealous of my dashing good looks."

She forced a small smile. "Just jealous. Of our friendship. My relationship with Stacy. That you're both helping me."

"Cut him some slack. He's going through a tough time."

"And I'm not?"