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just her complaint." Madelaine picked up a pen from her desk and clicked it a couple of times. "People at the party saw them together. Your client was drooling over her. Several people saw them leave together. And we have a witness who heard shrieks coming from her place that night."
    "Shrieks?"
    "Okay, heated sounds. But it's enough."
    "So maybe they had sex. Two consenting adults and all." That wasn't the way Grady wanted to play it, but he might not have a choice.
    "Then why would she suddenly change her mind and cry foul? It's not like she's some sixteen-year-old kid with a mother looking over her shoulder."
    I shrugged. "Women sometimes feel guilty, even in these enlightened times."
    "Besides," Madelaine said, brushing aside the pop psychology, "there were bruises on her arms. Big, ugly ones. And a nasty-looking abrasion on her cheek."
    "Fresh?"
    "You betcha." Madelaine held her pen eye level, as though sighting down the barrel of a gun. "Your client's going to pay for this, Kali. All his money and fancy house and club memberships won't help him one bit." She dropped the pen and smiled. "They may even work against him."

Chapter 6
    Grady wasn't at home when I dropped by later that evening.
    "He's at the office," Simon told me, narrowing his eyes as though I'd been personally responsible for Grady's recent tribulations. "Would you like me to see if Mrs. Barrett is available?"
    I nodded. "Please."
    I'd brought along a briefcase containing copies of the police report and sworn statement of the complaining witness, as well as a yellow pad of notes from my conversation with Madelaine Rivera. I'd promised Grady an update, but I was just as happy he wasn't there. I much preferred to visit with Nina, who had been "asleep" both times I'd called earlier in the day.
    Simon returned a moment later and invited me inside. "I'm glad you're here," he confided. "I think she could use some cheering up."
    I wasn't so sure I was the right person for the job. Not under the present circumstances at any rate. I was uncomfortable with Grady's behavior, and even more uncomfortable with his lying to Nina. I felt sure she would sense some of my awkwardness.
    I knocked on the open bedroom door. Nina was propped up in bed amid a cloud of soft down pillows -- a position she'd once considered the height of luxury and had come, over the last month of forced bed rest, to detest.
    "You up to some company?" I asked.
    "Absolutely." Nina hit the remote, lowering the volume on the television. I didn't recognize the movie, but since it featured Cary Grant, it had to have been an old one. On the covers next to her lay an open book, spine out. The same biography she'd been reading for over a week.
    I pulled the floral chintz chair closer to the bed. "How are you doing?"
    "Truthfully?"
    I nodded.
    She picked at a thread of the comforter, then laughed. It was a harsh, almost hysterical sound devoid of any humor. I could see that her neck was red where she'd been scratching it, a nervous habit she'd had as long as I'd known her. "I think I'm about to lose my fucking mind. Aside from that, I'm feeling just dandy."
    "You do have a lot coming at you all at once."
    "Don't I though." Another stab at a laugh. "Funny thing is, before this stuff with Grady, I'd sort of made peace with the situation. I mean, we're almost out of the woods with the baby, and the other ... well, I'm not looking forward to the chemo, but I figured I'd buy a wig, smoke some grass, and hope to hell the drugs massacre every damn one of those cancer cells. I'd even gotten to where I could think about something else on occasion. Something normal, like having the carpets cleaned or what I'd wear to Emily's ballet recital. And now this ... this mess with Grady. I can't figure out whether I'm hurt, angry, or worried."
    "You have every reason to be all three." I felt my throat growing tight, as it often did when we talked of Nina's troubles. It seemed unfair that fate had chosen to dump so many ills on