Chapter 5
Five
The ivory-frost Lenox gravy boat finally did it for Michael. After two hours of listening to Paige and her mother go on and on about eight-hundred-thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets and Tommy Hilfiger towels, the delicate china gravy boat didn’t stand a chance with him.
“Excuse me,” he said. Before Paige or her mother could utter a word, he got up and walked away.
He rode the nearest escalator down to the first floor of Dillard’s.
Wandering into the mall, he let his thoughts drift to the opening argument that had been running around in his mind during the endless morning.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we have before us what’s commonly known as an open and shut case.
An eyewitness will testify that she saw the defendants shoot the three victims. We’ll introduce ballistics evidence that ties the gun registered to Marco Benedetti to slugs recovered from the victims. We can prove that both defendants fired a gun that fateful evening.
You’ll hear testimony from friends of the victims who heard them arguing with the defendants earlier in the day.
So you’re probably asking yourselves: if this case is such a slam-dunk, what’re we doing here?
(Insert dramatic pause.) We’re here because the Constitution of the United States gives everyone—even two cold-blooded killers—a day in court.
Your job is to make sure they spend the rest of their days in prison.
I’ve got to write that down! Spotting a pharmacy across the mall’s main thoroughfare, he walked over to buy a notebook and pen. He had almost managed to get the whole thing on paper when Paige stormed up to where he sat on a bench next to a fountain.
“Michael! What are you doing?”
“Hang on a second.”
“I will not hang on a second! Why did you leave like that? What’s wrong with you? Don’t you care about the things we’ll have in our home?”
“Um, no, not really,” he said without looking up.
With a furious sweep of her hand she knocked the pad off his lap.
Leaning over to retrieve it from the floor, Michael wanted to reach up and throttle her. God, she could be such a bitch sometimes! “Cut it out, Paige.”
“You cut it out!” Her raised voice attracted curious stares. “What the hell is with you this weekend?”
“I’ll tell you what’s with me. I have a huge trial starting next week. I told you this wasn’t a good weekend for me to be here, but you and your parents planned this party without even asking me.”
“You know it was the only weekend we could get the club.”
“Oh, well, if that’s the case, who cares if it’s a bad weekend for the groom?”
“I don’t know why you’re being so unreasonable. It’s like you don’t even care about our wedding.”
“I don’t. I tried to tell you that last night, but you didn’t want to hear it. What I care about is the marriage, but I’m starting to seriously wonder if I even want that.”
She recoiled as if he had hit her. “Michael.”
Her mother joined them. “Everything all right?”
With her hand resting over her heart, Paige stared at her fiancé in stunned silence.
“Everything’s fine,” Michael said. “Are we done here?”
“Yes,” Paige said softly. “We’re done.”
“Okay, then,” Eleanor said. “Let’s go home for lunch. I have the books from the stationery store at the house, so you can pick the invitations this afternoon.” She rattled on without realizing the happy couple wasn’t listening.
Michael struggled with his bow tie in front of the mirror in the guest bathroom. He never had figured out how to tie a bow tie properly, which was something every other man in Paige’s life was probably born knowing how to do. He hadn’t had much need for that skill before he met her.
Taking another stab at the tie, he thought back to the first time he ever saw her, across the room at a gathering of third-year law students at the dean’s house.
She had come with her father, the dean’s friend, and Michael could still remember the lavender cashmere sweater and matching wool skirt she wore to the late-afternoon cocktail party.
The Admiral had been in full dress uniform, and he somehow managed to command a room full of dignitaries.
When Michael’s gaze connected with Paige, she smiled and rolled her eyes behind the back of her father who gestured as he made an emphatic point in the conversation he was having with the dean, the District of Columbia police chief, the junior senator from Maryland, and the state’s attorney from Baltimore City.
Michael tipped his head toward the bar, inviting her to join him for a drink. He watched her whisper to her father, who nodded without missing a beat in his conversation.
“Whew,” she said when they met at the bar. “Thanks for the lifeline.”
Michael chuckled. “My pleasure. Buy you a drink?”
“White wine, please,” she said to the bartender.
Michael ordered another beer. “Michael Maguire.”
She shook his hand. “Paige Simpson.”
They moved out of the party fray to sit by the fire.
She slid off her black pumps. “It feels good to sit down.”
Watching transfixed as she stretched her long legs, he was startled when his penis sprang to life.
Holy junior high! He quickly shifted his eyes up to find that her porcelain complexion had grown rosy from the heat of the fire.
In her blue eyes he saw intelligence, laughter, and a touch of mischief.
He cleared his throat. “So what brings you to our exciting shindig?”
“My father.” She nodded to the Admiral. “My mother had a meeting, so he asked me to come along.”
“Is he stationed at the Pentagon?”
“No, the Naval Academy. He’s the commandant.”
Michael released a low whistle. “That must be nice.”
She smiled. “It’s not bad.”
“What about you? What do you do?”
“My father says I’m a professional student. I’m an undergrad here at Georgetown. I’ve switched majors a few times, so I’m on the six-year plan. I’ll finally be getting an art history degree in May.”
That made her twenty-four, Michael figured. She seemed both older than that and younger at the same time. The face was that of a child but the eyes were those of a woman, and they were studying him with interest.
“And you’re at the law school?”
“Yes. Almost done, thank God. Just a few more months to go.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t know yet. I think about going home to Rhode Island to open a practice. That’s what I’ve always wanted to do, but I love living in D.C. So the jury’s still out.”
She smiled at the legal pun.
“Paige, honey, there you are,” a voice boomed from behind them.
“Dad, this is Michael Maguire, a third year at the law school.”
Michael stood to shake his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Admiral.”
“Yes, likewise.” The Admiral turned to his daughter. “We need to be getting back to Annapolis. I have a faculty meeting tonight.”
“But my new friend Michael just asked me to have dinner with him, so I can’t leave yet,” she said with a sly smile and wink for Michael.
“You don’t have your car.”
“I’d be happy to bring her home after dinner, sir,” Michael said. He was rewarded with a bright smile from Paige that once again caught the attention of another part of his anatomy. Christ!
“Well, then, I guess that’s fine.” The Admiral kissed his daughter’s forehead. “Don’t be out too late. You know how your mother worries. It was nice to meet you, Michael. Drive carefully with my daughter.”
Michael shook his hand again. “Yes, sir.”
They watched the Admiral consult with his friend the dean and saw him nod with approval.
“Looks like you just got the okay from the dean,” Paige whispered.
“It’s a good thing because I was thinking about asking you to have dinner with me.”
She laughed. “That’s a wonderful idea. I’d love to.”
A soft knock on the guest room door brought Michael back to the present. Opening the door, he found Paige wearing a pale pink strapless silk gown, her hair in a sleek French twist.
“You look stunning.” Michael stepped aside to let her in.
“Thank you. Are you ready?”
They had exchanged only a few tense words since their argument in the mall.
“Well, you know the tie always gives me trouble.”
“Let me,” she said, ushering him toward the bathroom mirror.
He squatted down so she could wrap her arms around him from behind.
She knotted the tie with quick, confident movements and then rested her hands on his shoulders.
“I don’t know how you do that.” He adjusted the tie into place on his tuxedo shirt. Catching her gaze in the mirror, he noticed tears in her eyes and turned to her. “What’s this?” He brushed at a tear before it could mar her eye makeup.
She shrugged.
“Paige?”
“I can’t stop thinking about what you said before. Did you mean it?”
“I’ve been having some worries lately. I won’t deny that.”
“About us?”
He nodded.
“And you wait until the day of our engagement party to mention them to me?”
“Actually, I tried to mention them last night,” he reminded her.
She clutched her stomach. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Paige! Michael! Are you coming? We need to go,” Eleanor called from downstairs.
“Just a minute,” Michael replied before he turned back to Paige. “Let’s enjoy the party. There’ll be time to talk later.” He held out a hand to her.
“Do you still love me, Michael?” Her blue eyes glistened with new tears as she held her breath and waited for his reply.
Leaning in to kiss her, he suddenly thought of Juliana and her soft, captivating brown eyes. Unsettled, he said, “Of course I do. Come on, your parents are waiting for us.”