“I’ll take care of this,” Mr. Freeborn said.
“Mr. Buchanan’s banker is waiting for your call to arrange collateral for both suspects. Here is the number.”
The bondsman took the number.
“You can use this phone,” the magistrate said, pointing to the phone on the conference table with her pen.
As soon as the bondsman made his call, the rest of the paperwork went swiftly.
“That’s that,” the magistrate announced.
Marissa stood up.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Sorry you didn’t like our accommodations here at the courthouse,” the magistrate told her, still miffed at what she thought was the special attention Marissa and Wendy had been able to arrange through Mr. Freeborn.
Mr. Freeborn accompanied both couples as they left the deserted courthouse. Their heels echoed loudly against the marble floor.
Marissa and Wendy were chilled by the time they got to their respective cars. They climbed in in silence. No one had spoken since leaving the conference room.
“Thanks for coming out, George,” Robert called to the lawyer.
“Yes, thanks,” Gustave called.
“See you all Monday morning,” George called back. He waved as he climbed into his sleek black Mercedes.
Robert and Gustave exchanged glances. They shook their heads in mutual sympathy.
Robert got into his car and slammed the door. He glanced at Marissa, but she was staring straight ahead, her jaw set. Robert started the car and pulled out into the street.
“I’m not going to say I told you so,” he said finally as they crossed over the old Charles River Dam.
“Good. Don’t say anything.” After her ordeal, Marissa felt she needed comforting, not a lecture.
“I think you owe me an explanation,” Robert said.
“And I don’t think I owe you anything,” Marissa said, glaring at Robert.
“And let me tell you something: those guards were crazy back in the clinic. I was almost shot in the face at pointblank range. The man you hired told you so. They even beat us!”
“It all sounds a little hard to believe,” Robert said.
“Are you suggesting we’re lying to you?” Marissa asked, incredulous.
“I believe that’s what you believe happened,” Robert said evasively.
Marissa faced forward. Once again her emotions were caroming around like a squash ball. She didn’t know whether to cry more or pound the dashboard. Undecided, she just clenched her fists and gritted her teeth.
They drove in hostile silence along Storrow Drive. After they got on the Mass Pike, Marissa turned to him.
“Why did you have me followed?” she demanded.
“Apparently it was a damn good thing I did.”
“That’s not the point,” Marissa said.
“Why did you have me followed?” she repeated.
“I don’t like it.”
“I had you followed to try to keep you out of trouble,” Robert said.
“Obviously it didn’t work.”
“Someone has to try to follow up on these TB cases,” Marissa said.
“Occasionally risks have to be taken.”
“Not to the point of doing something plainly illegal,” Robert said.
“You are obsessed with this thing, and irrational. It’s become a crusade, and it’s driving me crazy. I can’t believe you.
You’re still trying to justify unjustifiable behavior.”
“What if I told you we discovered eighteen cases of TB salpingitis in the Women’s Clinic alone?” Marissa asked.
“Do you think that might bear out my suspicions? And that eighteen probably isn’t even counting Rebecca Ziegler. Her record was already erased from the computer. What do you think about that?”
Robert shrugged irritably.
“I’ll tell you what I think. I think they have something to hide,” Marissa said.
“I think there was something in Rebecca’s record that they didn’t want anyone to see.”
“Come on, Marissa!” Robert snapped.
“Now you’re getting melodramatic and paranoid. This is all conjecture. In the meantime, we’ll he footing some all-too palpable legal fees to try to keep you out of jail.”
“So it all comes down to money,” Marissa shot back.
“That’s your biggest concern, isn’t it?”
Marissa closed her eyes. Sometimes she wondered what had ever possessed her to marry this man. And now she had the threat of a jail sentence looming in her immediate future. Things seemed to be going from bad to worse to worse still, like the unraveling of a Greek tragedy.