Seconds later a hard hand clamped around her arm. Julie was so startled that she jumped a foot straight up in the air. She whirled, heart pounding, to find herself face-to-face with Sid.
“What the hell did you do? Huh? What did you do?”
Dressed in a charcoal suit and crisp white shirt despite the heat, red-faced and scowling with his glasses slipping down his nose and his red silk tie askew, he looked furious. It was so unlike Sid to be anything less than completely dapper that she knew that he must be really enraged. His nostrils were distended, he was breathing hard, and his fingers were really hurting as they dug into her arm. For a moment, the briefest, flickering moment, she felt her stomach clench. She had always hated to make Sid mad, and the visceral reaction was still there—until she remembered all the reasons why she didn’t have to put up with his temper anymore. The thought that had occurred to her earlier replayed in her head: He had set her free. He no longer had any claim on her. He had severed the tie that bound her to him by his own actions. From the time of their marriage she had been less a person to him than an accessory he used to flaunt his success, like his Italian leather shoes or his expensive silk tie. She realized that she’d been tired of being an accessory for a long time.
Their marriage had been over in all but name long before Amber had come on the scene.
Amber had simply awakened her to the truth.
Suddenly Julie realized that she was being given a second chance. She was Julie again, not Julie Carlson anymore but Julie her own true self. It was that Julie who reacted as Sid’s good little wife never would have, that Julie who glared at Sid and jerked her arm from his hold.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her voice was icy. “And keep your hands off me.”
Surprise flickered in his eyes for the briefest of moments. Then his face darkened. He seemed to vibrate with temper as he took a step closer, looming over her almost threateningly, his eyes hard and angry as they bored into hers.
“You know what I’m talking about, all right. You were in the house, weren’t you? Were you spying on me? You were, weren’t you, you sneaky little . . . What the hell did you do to my car? I missed my plane! Do you know how important that meeting was? Because of you, I missed it!”
Despite her own rising fury, Julie was, for just a moment, rendered speechless. She could do nothing more than glare at him. The emotion that was uppermost in the maelstrom of her feelings, she decided, was total disbelief. Instead of apologizing, explaining, or even attempting to make some excuse for being caught red-handed in her house with her twenty-year-old employee, he was yelling at her for finding him out and damaging his car.
There was something wrong with this picture, but fortunately, Julie thought, she didn’t have to stick around any longer to try to figure out exactly what it was.
“Hell-o-o? I found your Viagra. I saw you in my house with Amber. I know what you did. So you know what? I don’t care if you missed your plane. I don’t care if you missed your meeting. And I’ll let you figure out what I did to your car. And just so you know, I think you’re a total dickhead; a horse’s ass; a mean, conceited, pompous, impotent bastard. Our marriage is over: I’m getting a divorce.”
For a moment he simply stared at her, looking as stunned as if a kitten had suddenly morphed into a tiger and bitten him, while his face grew redder and redder until it was the approximate color of a tomato and his eyes bulged out at her.
“The hell you are.” He grabbed her by the arm again and started dragging her toward the Lexus, his fingers digging hurtfully into the soft flesh above her elbow. He was breathing hard now, and his features were contorted in an ugly snarl. Julie dug her heels into the heat-softened pavement and resisted, and he turned on her ferociously. “You’ll get a divorce when I say you can get a divorce and not before, you got that? You trashy little bitch, anybody would go looking for something with a little more class—and a little less ass—if they were married to you.”
He gave a vicious yank, and despite her best efforts at resistance she stumbled forward. He was dragging her again, toward the Lexus, and she couldn’t seem to get away. Julie felt a tiny spurt of fear mix with her rage. She had never, she realized, pushed Sid to the limit before. Always she had pretty much done whatever he wanted. Now that she was no longer his to command, how far would he go?
She discovered that she didn’t want to find out.
“Let me go!”
This time his grip was unbreakable. She glanced wildly around even as she fought being pulled the last couple of feet toward the car. They were in the shadow of the Taco Bell still, back near the Dumpster, which of course happened to be the one fairly empty area in the whole vast asphalt sea. No one seemed to be paying the least attention to her and Sid; it was up to her to save herself.
She could scream, she realized. But the last small part of her that was still Sid Carlson’s wife shuddered at the thought of creating such a scene.
On the other hand, she was damned if she’d let herself be manhandled into that Lexus by her furious soon-to-be ex-husband. Nothing good could come of that.
“Get your hands off her, Sid.”
Mac’s voice stopped Julie in the act of preparing to kick Sid as hard as she could in the shins. She glanced around again to see him looming behind her, reaching for her, his gaze fixed on Sid. Sid, for his part, stopped dead and stared at Mac as if he were seeing a ghost. His grip on her arm slackened from, she thought, sheer surprise. Mac caught her arm and pulled her away from Sid’s hold. Freed, she moved instinctively to Mac’s side. Standing in his protective shadow, she wrapped her arms over her chest and glared at Sid.
It would be a long time before she would forget or forgive that little pang of fear.
“Well, if it isn’t Mac McQuarry.” Sid’s lips stretched into a mocking smile, but his eyes were suddenly alert and cold. He was no longer looking at her. His focus was all on Mac. “I thought you got run out of town a few years back. Something about being a dirty cop, wasn’t it?”
Mac smiled, too, with as little humor as Sid, and their gazes clashed like rapiers. Julie could feel the enmity crackling between the two like an electrical charge. Her glance moved from one to the other: Sid shorter, leaner, older, looking like the successful businessman he was but still a little out of place on this blazing hot day in his expensive dark suit; Mac taller, broader, younger, handsomer, a blond surfer-god in his Hawaiian shirt and jeans and tennis shoes—and, surprisingly, with the grim set to his jaw and the hard glint in his eye, the more formidable looking of the two. It hit her with the force of a two-by-four over the head that there was some kind of history—unpleasant history—between the two.
Mac replied in a deadly voice that was like nothing Julie had ever heard come out of his mouth before: “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the details. I haven’t. For a long time now I’ve been meaning to drop by and congratulate you on doing such a good job.”
“Is that supposed to be some kind of a threat?” Sid looked ready to explode. Then, suddenly, his expression changed, and he glanced at her and then back at Mac. “What the hell are you doing with my wife?”
“Looks to me like I’m keeping her safe from you, asshole.”
Mac’s snarling response reinforced what Julie had already sensed: the tension between the two was longstanding in nature. Mac had never mentioned that he knew Sid. . . .
“I hired him,” she said, pushing her confusion to the back burner until Sid was dealt with. “He’s a private investigator. He’s got pictures of you with Amber. I’m going to fire her, by the way, just as soon as I see her. And, like I said, I’m going to divorce you.”
Sid stared at her. Then he looked at Mac. Then, to Julie’s complete and utter stupefaction, he began to laugh, jeering laughter that set her teeth on edge. Julie frowned at him. Of all the reactions she would have expected from Sid, this was not one. Beside her, she felt Mac stiffen. Glancing up at him, she saw that his face had gone utterly still, utterly blan
k.
“You stupid little bitch,” Sid said, drawing her attention once more. “Don’t you know when you’re being used? He’s been pumping you for all kinds of information about me, hasn’t he? And you fed him everything you know.”
Julie must have looked as shocked as she felt, because he shook his head contemptuously at her. “You didn’t have a clue, did you? Sometimes I think your bra size is bigger than your IQ. This guy’s been after me for years, and now he’s using you to try to get to me. What did you tell him?”
Feeling suddenly cold despite the blazing heat, Julie ignored Sid to glance up at Mac. “Is that true?”
He looked down at her. His eyes as they met hers told her everything she needed to know: Sid was telling the truth.
“Julie . . .”
“It is true, isn’t it?” There was a ringing in her ears as she faced the hideous knowledge that Mac had betrayed her, too.
“I can explain. . . .”
Sid cut him off with another of those jeering little laughs that brought Julie’s gaze swiveling back around to him. “What did you do, go waltzing into his office and ask him to investigate me? He must have thought it was his lucky day. He didn’t even tell you he knew me, did he?” Her face must have answered for her because he laughed again. “Like I said, he’s been using you.”
He moved, walking the few steps back to the Lexus and opening the passenger door, then jerked his head at her commandingly. “Now get in the car. We’ll go someplace private and talk this through.”
Julie’s gaze locked with Mac’s. She felt as if she’d just been punched in the stomach. She could hardly breathe. To her surprise, and burgeoning horror, this betrayal hurt far more than discovering Sid with Amber.
“Julie, listen. . . .” Mac focused on her now, ignoring Sid completely. His voice was low, his eyes pained. She cut him off with a curt shake of her head.
“It was a rotten thing to do.” Her voice was scarcely louder than a whisper.
“Don’t tell me you had something going on the side with him?”
Something in their attitude toward each other must have alerted Sid. He sounded so outraged that Julie almost wanted to laugh. Her gaze swung around to him.
“Actually, I slept with him this afternoon.” Her voice was strong again, thank goodness. She swallowed, battling back the growing lump in her throat that she was afraid might, if she let it, turn into tears. “If you have anything to say to me after this, you can call my lawyer. I’ll call the office tomorrow and leave his name and number with Heidi.” As Sid sputtered furiously, she looked at Mac. “As for you, I never want to see you again as long as I live.”
“Julie . . .” Mac said again, reaching for her, his voice hoarse, his eyes desperate. “Give me a chance to explain.”
Julie eluded him with a deft sideways step.
“Go to hell,” she said to him. His eyes darkened as if at a blow and his arms dropped to his sides. Her gaze swung back to Sid. “You go to hell, too.”
Head high and back straight, she pivoted and started walking away.
“You cheating little slut, you get your ass back here,” Sid roared. No sooner had the words left his mouth than Julie heard a flurry of movement, followed by the sharp crack of a blow. Glancing back, she saw Sid flying backward while Mac, fists still clenched, body poised for more, watched with a look of savage satisfaction. Julie saw that the scene was finally starting to attract onlookers, and kept walking. Behind her she heard rapid footsteps, and increased her own pace until she was nearly running. A hand grabbed her arm. She didn’t even have to look back to know it belonged to Mac.
“Julie, please. I know it sounds bad, but . . .” He pulled her around to face him.
“Sounds bad? Is that what it does?” Hurt and anger and a sense of terrible betrayal made her voice unsteady. She jerked her arm from his hold and bared her teeth at him savagely. “Go away! Leave me alone! I don’t want to listen to anything you have to say. Send me a bill and I’ll pay it, and other than that stay the hell out of my life. Understand?”
It was only as she saw several passersby glance her way that she realized that she was yelling. From the corner of her eye, she saw that Sid, face red, fists clenched, was headed their way. A woman shopper complete with loaded grocery cart was punching numbers into her cell phone even as she kept looking at them, wide-eyed. Julie guessed that she was calling 911.
Julie could only pray that both men ended up in jail.
“You have to listen to me,” Mac said.
“No, I don’t,” she bit out. Then, grabbing the shreds of her dignity with both hands, she turned her back on him and stalked toward the sidewalk. A movement across the street in front of Carolina Belle caught her eye. As she identified its source, her lips pursed. Carlene Squabb had emerged from the shop and was coming her way, obviously having spotted her through the glass, an annoyed expression that Julie knew all too well on her face. Julie almost turned on her heel and headed in the opposite direction. Of all the things she didn’t need right now, listening to Carlene bitch about how Julie was neglecting her was right up there at the top of the list.
“Julie, please. Just give me a minute.”
Mac caught her arm again, pulling her around to face him just as she reached the edge of the parking lot. Sid was closing fast, his nose bleeding, murder in his eye, but Mac didn’t seem to notice, or care if he did. From the corner of her eye, Julie saw Carlene look both ways and step off the curb. It was only then that she realized that Carlene was wearing the pink sweater dress she herself had discarded earlier. Why on earth . . . ?
A sudden blur of movement on the street caught Julie’s attention. Seemingly from out of nowhere a mid-size blue car hurtled toward Carlene. Carlene saw it coming: Julie could see horror in her widening eyes, her opening mouth.
Carlene tried to get out of the way, but there was no time. The car hit her with a sickening thump. She flew up in the air, twisting feet over head, limp as a rag doll as she seemed to cartwheel over the car.
Julie screamed, and, screaming, rushed toward where Carlene now lay limp and bleeding in the street.
25
CARLENE WAS DEAD. Julie could hardly believe it. Numb with shock, she walked out of the hospital at shortly after ten into the welcoming arms of the night. It was still hot, stickily humid, with a sprinkling of stars overhead and a beautiful crescent moon. Shivering at the cruel irony of such serene beauty on a night that had witnessed a terrible, brutal death, Julie was nevertheless grateful for the embracing heat. She was so cold that she felt as if she’d been turned to ice from the inside out; so cold that she felt like she would never be warm again.
Sitting there in that impersonal lounge with Carlene’s family as they waited for news had been one of the most wrenching experiences of her life.
Carlene had been the victim of a hit-and-run. The police were investigating, of course. They’d talked to Meredith and they’d talked to Julie, and they’d talked to scores of other people as well. There’d been dozens of witnesses, a few of whom had actually had the presence of mind to get at least part of the license-plate number. Neither the car nor the driver had yet been found, but the police seemed confident that they would be. Julie prayed it would be soon. She found the accident horrifying in more ways than one.
She could not get past the fact that Carlene had been wearing Julie’s own discarded dress when she was hit. Julie pointed that out to the officer who had interviewed her, and he had dutifully written it down, but she had a feeling that the information had not made much of an impression and would wind up buried in a file somewhere.
The consensus was, Carlene had probably been the unfortunate victim of a driver who was drunk, or high, or elderly, or a kid, who had then panicked. The police were confident that both car and driver would be found, and then all questions would be answered.
When Julie had asked her, Meredith had said that Carlene, annoyed at being left to the tender mercies of a mere assistant, had been chain-smoking in
the dressing room. She had dropped ashes on her own dress, which had burned a tiny hole in a particularly unfortunate spot on the bodice. Carlene had pitched a fit, blamed the whole fiasco on Meredith, and insisted that she could not possibly step outside the store in a dress with a hole in the tit. Meredith, not knowing what else to do, had invited her to take her pick from Carolina Belle’s stock. Unfortunately, with her new implants, the only other garment in the store that would fit Carlene was Julie’s stretchy sweater dress. So Meredith let her wear it.
And Carlene had died in it.
“You ever think that maybe walking alone through a parking lot at night might not be a good idea?”
The voice, coming from behind her as she headed toward her car, made Julie jump even as she recognized it. She was edgy, she realized, nervous, and didn’t have to delve far to find the reason why: Carlene dying in her dress had scared the pants off her. She was just now fully realizing it.
“Go away.” She didn’t even bother to glance over her shoulder. Maddeningly, just knowing that Mac was behind her and she was, therefore, physically safe made her nerves relax. It also made her heart ache, and her temper heat.
“I know you’re mad. I’m even willing to admit that you have a right to be. But I can explain.”
Having fished her keys out of her purse as she walked, Julie pressed the unlock button just as she reached the white Infiniti. Then she turned on him. Every muscle in her body hummed with tension; her eyes were blazing.
“Exactly what part of go away don’t you understand?”
The moonlight turned his hair to molten silver. It was reflected in his eyes, turning them silvery, too. It cast deep shadows beneath his high cheekbones, his straight nose, his firm chin. He looked tall and broad and achingly handsome standing there regarding her so gravely, and Julie hated him.
It scared her to realize that she hated him. Hate was too strong an emotion to feel for this sexy near-stranger who had slept with and betrayed her. She didn’t even hate Sid anymore. She’d gotten over hating him long since.
To Trust a Stranger Page 27
