McDonald looked bad, Lucas thought. Her head was patched with white bandages, stark against her gray face. She was wearing a gingham dress with short sleeves, a summer dress really, but one that beautifully showed off the bruises on her arms and lower legs. She looked beaten, both physically and psychologically: then, as the bailiff wheeled her toward the defense table, she saw Lucas. And for a vanishingly small instanta time so short that it must have been imaginaryLucas felt her eyes spark. Not sparkle, but actually spark, as with electricity.
The judge, a prissy little blonde who was known for occasional bouts of judicial intemperance, had grown impatient with Logan. He said, Thats all very well, Mr. Logan, but youve been here a number of times before and were getting a little tired of it. Ill put bail at five thousand dollars and expect to see you back here at… As he thumbed through a calendar, there was a meaty smack from the audience, as though somebody had just been punched. The impact came from the forehead of a young woman whod just slapped herself with one heavy hand. The judge looked up and said, Do you have something to say, young lady?
The woman stood up and said, Your Honor, if we got to pay some bail bondsman seven hundred and fifty dollars to get Darius out of jailshe pronounced it Dare-Iuswhere in the hell am I gonna get the money for the kids dinners?
The judges eyes clicked to the face of a well-known TV reporter, then back to the woman. Why dont you leave Dare-I-us in jail for a while?
Dont dare do that, the woman said.
Why not?
Just dont dare.
Okay. Sit down. Dare-I-us, are you gonna show up for the trial?
I sure will, Your Honor.
All right. Bails set at one thousand dollars, and youve got the young lady to thank for it.
Thank you, Your Honor.
As Logan left, the judge said, Call the next one, and the bailiff called out, Audrey McDonald.
Here, Your Honor, Glass called back.
The woman whod gotten the bail reduced on Darius Logan wedged herself down a line of spectators, out to the center aisle, and headed for the door. As she passed, she saw Del, and Del said, quietly, Quick pregnancy.
Shush, she said, and was gone. Del looked at Lucas and said, Didnt have any kids last week.
Its a miracle, Lucas said, turning to sports.
AUDREY MCDONALD SAT HUNCHED IN HER CHAIR, her back to Lucas, as the hearing routine broke around her, speaking only two words: Not guilty.
Your Honor, Mrs. McDonalds attorney has offered Mrs. McDonalds house as security for her appearance, and the state has no objection to that. As you may know, the circumstances around this particular incident could lead to a change in the charges against Mrs. McDonald. ..
And a while later, it was all done. Audrey waited as Glass talked to the assistant county attorney over a few details, then said, Weve got to sign the papers and then Im going to talk to the press. If I dont, theyll be parked outside your house, hassling you…
She liked that, the press, though her face was determinedly grim.
… I dont really expect you to say anything, Glass was saying.
Ill talk to them, if that will keep them away, Audrey said.
THE PRESS CAUGHT THEM OUTSIDE THE COURTHOUSE, at the curb, where Helen Bell was waiting in her car. Glass made a short speech about spousal abuse, said he anticipatedthat all charges would be dropped, then asked Audrey if she wished to answer questions.
She bobbed her head. Did you kill your husband, Mrs. McDonald, a woman reporter blurted.
She bobbed her head again. Yes, she said weakly. I couldnt… I couldnt… He was hurting me so bad… She touched the bandage on her scalp and peered at the camera lens. Oh, God… A tear trickled down her cheek. God, I miss him. Im so sorry…
Why do you miss him?
He was my husband, she wailed. I wish he could come back… But he cant. She seized Glasss arm. I cant… She gasped.
All right, all right, Glass said. Shes really weak. Shes got to go. Im pleading with you all. If you have any sensitivity, leave her alone.
Mrs. McDonald…
Then she was in the car and Helen was driving them away. My God, Helen said. My God, Audrey…
Just take me home.
No, no. Youre coming to my place.
No. I want to go home, Audrey said. Helen, please dont argue with me. Just take me home. Please. I just want to turn off the phones and get some sleep.
AND BACK AT THE COURTHOUSE, LUCAS SAID TO Glass, Quite a performance.
Glass was staring after Helen Bells car, turned to Lucas and said, The last thing I expected.
You didnt prep her?
Hell, no. I figured she was such a sad sack, we couldnt lose. I didnt think we was gonna get Greta Garbo. Did you see that tear?
I didnt get that close.
A real tear, Glass marveled. Ran right down her cheek, and it was the cheek that was turned toward Channel Three. Tell you what, Lucasif I lose this case, Im gonna want to borrow one of your guns, so I can shoot myself.
THE HOUSE WAS SILENT: AUDREY ENTERED, LISTENING for the footfalls of Wilsons ghost. She heard creaks and cracking that she hadnt heard beforebut shed never before listened. Helen came in behind her, tentatively. Youre sure youll be okay?
Ill be okay, Audrey said, peering around. The police had been through the place, and though they hadnt been deliberately messy, the house looked… disheveled. I hope the police didnt steal anything.
Do you want me to come over tonight?
No… no. Im going to take a couple of pills and try to sleep. I just really need to sleep, I havent slept since before… before
…
Okay. If youre sure youll be all right.
Do you, uh… You used to take Prozac, Audrey said. Do you still use that?
Well, sure. Could hardly get along without it, Helen said.
Do you think it would help? In the next few days? Helen shook her head. I dont think its for your kind of problem, honestly. I could give you a few and you could try them, but I think a doctor could give you something better.
Maybe if I could just try a couple. If I dont sleep tonight…
Sure. Well talk tomorrow.
When Helen was gone, Audrey prowled through the house, already planning: shed bundle up his suits, dump them at Goodwill and get a tax deduction. She got a notepad and wrote: ACCOUNTANT/Taxes and Deductions, and under that, Suits. Wilson had all kinds of crap shed want to get rid of, starting with that XK-E. She wrote Jag under Suits. And he had a whole wall full of bullshit awards and plaqueschairman of this charity in 1994, director of that community effort in 1997. All worthless: straight into the garbage can, she thought.
So much to do.
Audrey really did hurt from Wilsons beating, and from her own enhancements to the damage. The scalp wound, in particular, felt tight, like a banjo head, its edges seeming to pull against the stitches. After half an hour of cruising through the house, she went up to the bedroom, set the alarm clock for nineP. M., and tried to sleep.
But sleep, she found, wouldnt come easily. Too many images in her head, a mix of plans and memories. If Wilson had only landed the chairmanship, none of this would have happened. Shed believed in him from the start, and the belief had only begun to falter after Kresge got the top job six years earlier. Kresge was a technocrat, and brought in other technocrats like Bone and Robles. They had no respect for family name, for fortune, for breeding or society. All they knew was how to make money. Wilson, running the mortgage division, which had always been one of the pillars of the bank, was suddenly out on a limb.
She didnt know that sleep had come, but it must have. The clock went off: she sat up, a bit groggy, realized that the room was dark. She groped around the bedstand, found the clock, and silenced the alarm. Then she touched the light and swung out of bed.
A little tension now. She went straight to the shower and stood under it, breathing deeply, flexing the muscles in her back and shoulders. Stiff. When she got out of the shower, she downed four ibuprofen tablets, then dressed: black slacks, a deep red sweater, and a dark blue jacket over the sweater. She found a pair of brown cotton gardening gloves, and pulled them on. The best she could do for nighttime camouflage. Now for a weapon.