Reluctant Witness (11 page)

“What do you mean?” Lincoln wanted to
know.

“Just that it sounds like you wanted kids and
she didn’t.”

“Well, that may be, but there’s always more
to a marriage than children.” He seemed to be determined to lecture
me on the complications of marriage, but I just ignored all that,
having already decided to be sisterly in my approach to him. It was
the only way to avoid being tempted to fall for his strong,
chiseled chin and that luscious mouth of his.

“Hadn’t you talked about the subject before
the wedding?” I prodded him, curious.

“We had, but things can change once you’re in
the trenches.” He rubbed the back of his head absentmindedly, lost
in the memory.

“True, but in your case, it doesn’t seem like
it was ever a match made in heaven,” I announced with the air of a
self-appointed expert on love. “Did you ever have anything in
common, above and beyond sex?”

“Ouch!” he groaned. “That’s kind of
harsh...and rather blunt, Marigold. But I suppose there’s at least
one tiny grain of truth to your assessment.”

“Oh? What might that be?”

“Deirdre’s not an ordinary woman. She can be
dazzling.”

“Hmm....” I took a deep breath and let it out
slowly, contemplating the implications. It didn’t take a genius to
realize Lincoln was still smitten with his ex-wife. The gold ring
might be gone from his finger, but she still had a tight hold on
his heart. He gave me a good demonstration of just how strong the
remaining bond was as he continued.

“It was hard to ignore her beauty. I thought
I was the luckiest man on the planet,” he said, somewhat
wistfully.

“I see.” Maybe luck had nothing to do with
it, I thought to myself. Maybe the magic wore off and the real
woman surfaced. That’s the trouble with believing in a dream. You
have to wake up sometime.

“You sound skeptical,” he decided, sounding
defensive.

“Convince me not to be,” I shot back. “How
did all that magic start?”

“We met at law school and got married eight
months later. She graduated magna cum laude. I was only tenth in
our class and merely summa, making me a real disappointment as far
as husband material went. Like Avis. I had to try harder.”

“Ah, you married Superwoman. Able to leap
tall buildings in a single bound. What a slouch you were at
school,” I teased. “She kept you so busy on the hamster wheel that
you never got out of the cage.”

“Interesting way to look at the dynamics of
our relationship,” he told me, conceding with a shrug. “That’s
rather astute.”

“I’m a woman, Lincoln. I know women. We’re
not all sugar and spice, and many of us don’t qualify as nice,
believe me!”

“Everyone called her a real go-getter. When
Deirdre found out I had no plans to become director of the FBI, she
claimed I lacked ambition. She was constantly trying to drive my
career in a more positive direction and I was constantly resisting
the effort.”

“More positive than what? It sounds like she
didn’t understand your goals.”

“Oh, she understood them. She just didn’t
like them,” he said with an air of regret. This was something that
had obviously stuck in his craw for a long time.

“You didn’t give in? You didn’t wave the
white flag and surrender?”

“Sometimes there are more important things in
life that one’s career status. The first time I saved a life, I was
scared out of my mind. After being on the job for a while, I just
start thinking that it’s not okay for some idiot to take away
someone’s right to exist, and I began to understand that I do what
I do because it matters. Deirdre didn’t see it that way. She found
it difficult to brag about me to her social circle. She’s very
competitive.”

“I’ll bite. How competitive is she?”

“She likes to win at everything. It’s nearly
impossible to stop her once she starts.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.”

“Excuse me?”

“She’ll probably try to win you back the
second she thinks I’m interested in you, not because she cares, but
because she still thinks she owns you. You’re her trophy boy.”

“No.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re
wrong. She’s already replaced me.”

“That’s what you think,” I snickered. “Women
like that don’t like to lose their power over men. They expect it
to be eternal. You’re forever hers to command. It’s that ‘to the
victor go the spoils of war’ thing.”

“That’s crazy,” he scoffed. “It’s like saying
that the only reason she paid attention to me in the first place
was to steal me away from another woman.”

“What was your former girlfriend’s name?” I
fired back, taking a sideways glance in his direction.

“Lesley,” Lincoln answered automatically.
When he realized what he had done, he was flustered. “Holy crapola!
It never dawned on me before. Deirdre was Lesley’s best
friend.”

“I rest my case,” I shrugged, “with a little
lawyer humor.”

“Wow. Wouldn’t that be something?” he sighed.
I could tell he was already imagining the upcoming encounter with
his ex-wife, planning his strategy. I just hoped he also considered
how to make a graceful exit before her claws came out. The last
thing I wanted to see was the guy licking his wounds as he crawled
away.

Just outside Camden, we stopped to refuel.
Lincoln took the wheel as I slipped into the passenger seat for the
final few miles. We crossed into Pennsylvania on the Ben Franklin
Bridge. Fifteen minutes later, we pulled up to a tidy row of
attached brick houses on an historic street.

“Do you mind waiting here while I grab Kary?”
Lincoln wondered, as he shut off the engine. “That way I know I
won’t overstay my welcome or turn into a complete babbling
idiot.”

“You named the dog after Cary Grant? How
cute.”

“What? Oh,” he chuckled. “No. It’s short for
Karaoke.”

“Are you a karaoke freak?”

“Me? No.”

“Deirdre is?”

“No.” He shook his head, smiling at me.
“You’ll find out soon enough. Well, wish me luck.”

I watched Lincoln stride up
to the black door, his long legs covering the distance quickly. He
pushed the doorbell button twice and then stepped back to wait. A
moment later, a tall, willowy brunette in well-tailored black
slacks and a crisp, white, body-hugging blouse appeared in the open
doorway. Deirdre’s calculating gaze went from her ex-husband to the
VW, and as she focused on me in the passenger seat, I saw those
dark eyes narrow. I was now on her radar.
Nice going, Marigold. That’s what you get for looking at the
dragon lady.

She raised her left hand and determinedly
waved me in, toward the house, like a benevolent hostess hailing a
wayward guest. I shook my head, smiling pleasantly as I rejected
the invitation. I had no intention of setting foot in her lair, so
I forced myself to turn away, pretending to direct my attention
elsewhere. I thought I had things under control as I sat there, but
I underestimated my companion’s ex-wife. Rather than accept my
response, Deirdre marched past Lincoln as he stood innocently on
the top step and made her way to the Jetta. She yanked the driver’s
door open and the smell of Chanel No. 5 instantly filled Lincoln’s
car. She spoke through tight, unyielding lips that were painted the
color of blood.

“Please come in. I’m running late and I don’t
have the dog ready to go.”

“Thanks,” I replied evenly, “but I’m fine
here.”

“I’m warning you. Lincoln won’t be out any
time soon. You’ll be more comfortable inside,” she informed me in a
voice that brooked no dissent.

“I’m good,” I insisted, hands on my thighs,
feeling overwhelmed by the perfume and the power play. If she
affected me this way, what did she do to Lincoln? Would I
eventually have to go into the house and drag him kicking and
screaming to the car?

“If you change your mind....” She let the
sentence hang, even as she seemed to be measuring me for an
imaginary noose. This was not a warm, caring person. This was a
barracuda, used to eating little fishes like me.

“I’ll ring the bell,” I replied sweetly.

“Do.” Turning brusquely on her expensive
heels, Deirdre strutted back to the house, climbed the steps, and
went into the house without a word to Lincoln. He looked back at
me, an odd expression on his face that was part fear and part awe,
and then disappeared through the opening, shutting the door behind
him.

As I awaited his return, I kept myself amused
by studying the street where Deirdre lived. This must be prime real
estate, I decided. Everything from the wrought iron street lamps to
the street signs suggested the residents had money for neighborhood
improvements.

Ten minutes later, the black door opened
again and Lincoln came carrying a dog bed, a small crate, and a
canvas bag. I leaned over to the driver’s side of the car and
popped the trunk latch for him. I could hear him moving things
around behind me. A moment later, he slammed the trunk shut and
paused at the driver’s side window on his way back to the row
house, holding up a finger to indicate he would just be a minute,
before he trotted back up the steps. Emerging triumphant thirty
seconds later, carrying something black and white in his arms,
Lincoln gave me a wide grin and a thumbs-up.

What had I expected when he said he was going
to pick up the dog he once shared with his ex-wife? A big, black
Labrador or some other sporting dog sprang to mind, some breed
known for its athleticism and agility. A Shih Tzu wasn’t even on my
list. And yet, while I watched Kary cover his master’s face with
enthusiastic kisses, it was obvious this was a mutual love
fest.

“Hey,” said Lincoln, opening the driver’s
door and leaning in. “Do you mind driving?”

“Not at all.” Who was I to stand in the way
of a long overdue reunion between a man and his dog? I opened my
door and climbed out, passing the happy pair as I rounded the front
of the car. As I slid into the driver’s seat, I glanced over,
smiling. Lincoln returned it, his handsome mouth curling up at the
ends.

“Thanks, Marigold. You were right, by the
way. Deirdre made a pass at me. It felt good to walk away.”

“I’m glad,” I replied, reaching out to pet
Kary. The little dog’s fur, silky and soft, was long, and he
sported a bow on the top of his head. For me, it was love at first
sight, especially when his warm tongue found my hand and licked it.
“Who’s a happy boy?”

“I am! And the dog’s happy, too,” Lincoln
winked. “Guess who’s watching us from the window. Shall we depart,
before Deirdre comes out here and tries to take the dog back?”

“Absolutely,” I agreed, pulling my seatbelt
out and latching it in the receptacle. I heard it click and waited
for Lincoln to do the same, even as I started the engine. “Where
are we going?”

“We’re going down to Virginia, to my place in
Reston.”

“You don’t live in New York?”

“No. I just finished a temporary assignment
there and was taking some time off before heading home.”

“I confess I thought you were a big dog
guy.”

“I am. I love dogs.”

“What I mean is Kary’s not exactly large in
body.”

“Ah, but he is in spirit. Give him a little
time and you’ll understand why he’s such a great dog. Good lord, I
can’t wait to get him groomed.”

“What’s wrong with how he looks now?”

“This guy likes to be outdoors. He needs a
practical haircut; with hair this long, he’ll pick up every tick
within a mile.”

“That makes sense,” I agreed. He did look
like a fussy little pooch with that bow in a top knot on his
head.

“I’ll find a PetSmart on the way and see if I
can get him clipped,” Lincoln told me, pulling out his phone and
scrolling for a nearby store with a grooming salon. Kary was curled
up in Lincoln’s lap, blissfully unaware of what was to come.

The Brandywine, Delaware store was the
closest one on our route; according to the woman who answered the
phone, there was had an opening for a clipping. The groomer
promised to accommodate Kary, even if we were a little late.

When we got off the highway, I pulled onto
Naamans Road and followed it to the shopping center. I took a
parking spot near the door of the pet store.

We gave the little dog some time to explore
on our way to the grooming department. Now harnessed and leashed,
Kary was interested in his surroundings, right up to the moment he
realized he was about to get a makeover. Quivering, the little dog
passed from Lincoln’s embrace to the short woman with the curly
blonde hair. Nonilee went over the instructions for the trim and
promised to call if there were any problems.

Lincoln and I used the time to grab some
lunch at the nearby Moe’s Southwest Grill, where we enjoyed
quesadillas and sodas, and then hit T. J. Maxx for some clothes for
me.

On impulse, I dug through a bin of outer wear
and found another hat. The store clerk was kind enough to clip the
tags. Wearing my new ivory cloche, I felt almost human again.

“You look good with the hat,” Lincoln told
me. “It really highlights your hair.”

“And it hides my bandage,” I added, giving
him a bright smile. It was true. Despite being slightly snug, the
brim covered the gauze nicely, making me feel like I no longer
stood out like a sore thumb.

By two o’clock, we were ready to retrieve the
dog and get back on the road. While we waited for the groomer to
fetch Kary, Lincoln paid the bill.

“Here you go,” said Nonilee, bringing out a
small fur ball almost half the size of Kary.

“That’s more like it,” the FBI agent cheered.
Kary looked like a cheerful Muppet, wagging tail and all.

“Do you mind holding him while I drive?”
Lincoln asked me as we left the store, walking back to the car. “I
could put him in the crate in the back seat if you’re not
comfortable.”