He couldn't have looked more startled if she'd slapped him, though he recovered quickly. "After you called me last night, I told her I was meeting you to talk with the cops today. So she knows as far as it goes. Which isn't very far. Today ought to be the end of it, right?"
Gina was tempted to ask him if he was joking with her, but she kept it straight. "Frankly, no, Stuart. I don't think today's going to be the end of it. There have been a few developments."
Ten
"Bethany said she saw me? How could she have seen me?"
"She said she saw your car."
"She saw me pull into my garage?"
"Yes. Then leave a couple of hours later."
"So she saw Caryn's killer come and then go."
"That would be Inspector Juhle's assumption, I believe. And he came in your car."
"No he didn't. Not possible."
Deep inside, Gina was somewhat heartened by the unequivocal denial. Either Stuart was an extraordinarily good liar, or he was telling the truth. "Okay, leaving the car for a minute, let's talk about you and your wife not fighting, specifically about you never having hit her."
"Okay." Forward now on the couch, Stuart's blood was up. "What about 'never' don't you get?"
"I guess the part about the domestic disturbance call to the police last summer."
Stuart grimaced. "They found that already?"
"That's one question. A better one is, what about it? And as for them finding out about it already, I told you yesterday that they're going to find out everything about you, every little thing you've ever done, and they're going to drag it in front of the whole world, so it's way to your advantage to come out with it right up front-anything that's going to look bad when they bring it up later. Like, for example, hitting your wife."
The little tirade found its mark. Stuart shifted defensively back on the couch-legs crossed, arm out along the cushions, stalling for time while he decided what he was going to say. When he made the decision, he kept it simple. "I never hit her."
"She hit you?"
"No."
"But the cops came?"
"My busybody neighbor called them." A pause. "There might have been some noise. I did tell you we'd had some arguments."
"So you had this one time last summer when the police came?"
"And left. They just wanted to make sure nobody was hurt." He shrugged. "Nobody was. They went away. End of story."
Gina stared at him, her face set. "Okay. And that's it?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, is there anything else you think might be relevant to Inspector Juhle's ongoing investigation of you, Stuart, that your lawyer, if she wanted to protect you, might need to know?" Gina's tone had by degrees become more confrontational. Now she glared expectantly across the room and watched her client pretend to think until she could stand it no more. "You need a hint?" she snapped. "I could give you a hint."
He sat there, frowning. "Let me ask you something. Why are you being so hostile all of a sudden?" he asked. "What's that about?"
Gina couldn't come up with an answer right away. She sat back in her chair, gathering herself for a moment, before she finally said, "I read one of your books last night."
"The whole thing?"
"In one sitting, yes. Healed by Water. I liked it a lot." Stuart's mouth turned up at the corners. "I didn't realize you knew that I wrote books."
"I'm your lawyer," Gina said. "I know everything. Get used to it."
"And that's what's bothering you? That you liked my book?"
"Not exactly," she said evenly, "but since you asked, I'm mad if your beautiful book conned me and you're really guilty. I feel personally abused when I find out an eyewitness saw your car coming and going just about when Caryn was killed. I can't figure out why you've got all these anger issues when you write about such spiritual, holistic stuff. I'm really pissed off if you're in fact sleeping with your wife's sister. I'm furious if you're as good a liar as you are a writer. I'm confused about your lack of reaction to your wife's death. I'm baffled and confused by cops coming to break up fights at your house when you say you've never hit your wife. Is that enough?"
"I can explain-"
"Not just yet, please." Her jaw jutted. "So yes, I think we can say that something is bothering me, that I'm a little bit hostile. And while I'm on it, I'm not in the habit of letting myself get fooled by men. I had a damn fine man for a good while there and I got used to it. So I'm afraid my guard might be down, and that makes me mad too. How's all that?"
"I didn't kill Caryn."
"Right. Okay, you've said that. Thank you." "You don't believe me?"
She shrugged. Suddenly, and very much to her own surprise, she slammed her palm flat down on her computer table-a shockingly loud report, almost like a pistol shot in the closed-up room. "Jesus fucking Christ, Stuart! Do you think this is some kind of game, or what? Do you have any idea of how much trouble you're in right now? You don't think it matters, somehow that I don't need to know, that you got yourself arrested for domestic violence five years ago? Or that you threatened a Highway Patrol officer last Friday night just before you told him you were getting out of the house so you wouldn't kill your wife? What are you thinking? This is serious shit, and you are hip deep in it."
"But how did they…?"
Finally, the last of her reserve broke and she was on her feet. She'd made no plan for it-it wasn't part of her usual repertoire or strategy- but she was yelling at him. "Goddammit, Stuart! It never happened is not the same thing as they won't find out. Because they always find out! What have I been telling you? It all comes out! Always! That's the way it works" Hovering over him, she straightened, then whirled and crossed over to one of the windows. She parted the blinds, though she wasn't really looking out at anything.
Gina had to get her anger under control. Letting out a breath slowly, she closed her eyes, concentrated on the beat of her heart. When she looked over at him again, Stuart was forward on the couch, his elbows on his knees, looking at her as though he were pleading for something-and maybe he was.
She summoned what calm she could and turned to face him. "I'm sorry I raised my voice. That was unprofessional. I apologize."
He made some conciliatory gesture. "It's all right. People get mad."
She nodded. "Yes," she said. "They do." Gina crossed all the way back to where he sat and lowered herself onto the opposite end of the couch. She glanced at her watch, then over to him. When she spoke, all the fight was out of her voice. "All right, Stuart," she said. "Inspector Juhle's going to be here in no time. Do you want to tell me about the first domestic disturbance call? The one five years ago."
He was facing her, face drawn and pale, the fatigue around his eyes almost painful to see. "It was just another fight. The first bad one, really." He lowered his voice, ducked his head away from the admission. "I guess some dishes got thrown. One of them cut her a little. She was bleeding when the cops came."
"That's your version. So what's the police report going to say, Stuart? What's the version the cops got?"
He inclined his head an inch. "I don't know. I never saw any report. I'm not sure what Caryn told them." "But they took you downtown?"
"Yeah. Then Caryn came down and eventually they let me go back home with her. I took some anger management classes. The problem went away."
"Until last summer?"
Perhaps embarrassed, he looked down, shrugged. "I never did hit her. Not last summer, not before. Never."
"Okay." Gina was fairly sure that the distinction between Stuart hitting his wife and throwing a plate at her would not make much of a difference to a jury, if it came to him being in front of one, but if the exact type of domestic violence he'd committed mattered to Stuart, she'd let him live with his own conscience. For the time being, at least. "So what about this Highway Patrol guy?" she asked. "Did you threaten him?"