Erica Spindler - Cause for Alarm

She frowned. But the election was still a year off. And he had already secured considerable support, including the Times Picayune and the St. Tammany Parish Sheriff's Department. How much more could he and Julianna have to do?

Hating herself for her suspicions, she grabbed her purse, checked on Emma, then headed out front. She would put her mind to rest once and for all.

"Marilyn, Blake, there's something I have to do. Can you watch Emma until I get back? It's important."

"No problem," Marilyn said, meeting her eyes. "What's up?"

"I can't…there's something I need to check out, and I have to do it now." Marilyn frowned, and Kate ignored the question in her eyes. "She's asleep and should be for a while. There are two bottles in the refrigerator and diapers in the bag beside the crib." She set the baby monitor on the counter. "I'll be back as quick as I can."

Leaving before either employee could question her, Kate hurried home to retrieve her car, then drove to Richard's firm, reassuring herself the entire way. Richard would be there, chin-high in paperwork, just as he had said he would be. She would feel like a fool, make some excuse for being there, and head back to The Bean, promising herself she would never distrust her husband again.

But Richard wasn't there. Several associates were, and Kate asked but no one had seen him. Using his office phone, she called home. The recorder picked up. She tried his car, then the club. Both without luck.

Hands shaking, she hung up the phone. She would run home; perhaps he was napping. Or in the yard. His car hadn't been there when she'd retrieved hers, but they could have passed each other on the way.

Kate darted into the hallway and ran smack-dab into one of the secretaries, her arms piled high with copies. The papers flew.

Kate made a sound of dismay, squatted down and began helping the young woman collect the papers. "I'm so sorry," she said, embarrassed. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

"That's okay, Mrs. Ryan. It happens."

"Do I know you?"

The woman flushed. "We met last year. At the firm's Christmas party. Sandy Derricks. Mr. Bedico's assistant."

Kate smiled. "Of course, Sandy. It's good to see you again." She scooped up the last of the papers and handed them to Sandy, her expression apologetic. "It's not bad enough having to work on a Saturday, but now I've gone and made your job more difficult."

"Don't think anything of it, really. I work every Saturday." She drew her eyebrows together. "Can I help you in some way?"

Kate laughed. "Actually, maybe you can. I'm looking for my husband. Have you seen him today? It's rather urgent that I speak with him."

For a moment, Sandy gazed blankly at her, then a small, sly smile curved her lips. "Not today," she said softly. "Of course, he's been out of the office a lot recently." She paused as if for effect, her smile broadening, becoming almost triumphant. Kate's stomach sank, fearing what was coming next. "Perhaps if you find his assistant Julianna, you'll find your husband."

Kate's hands began to shake. She understood what Sandy was telling her. And that doing so was giving her great pleasure.

Kate took a step backward, working to get a grip on her emotions. Her hurt. Her fury and embarrassment. The urge to hotly defend her husband, to tell this young woman that it wasn't true. Her husband would not be unfaithful to her.

Instead, quietly and with as much dignity as she could muster, she asked Sandy to get her Julianna's address.

She did and within twelve minutes, Kate pulled to a stop in front of Julianna's apartment. Richard's Mercedes was parked in the drive, wedged in behind a bright blue Miata.

Kate sat for a moment, breathing deeply, trying to calm herself. She flexed her fingers on the steering wheel, acknowledging fear. And cowardice. She could just drive away, she thought. She could stick her head in the sand and pretend this wasn't happening, pretend that her husband hadn't taken her love and trust and thrown them back in her face.

As if he hadn't broken her heart.

Oh, Richard…how could you? She bent and rested her forehead against the steering wheel, numb with the truth, with the impending betrayal. We had everything. We had each other.

Firming her resolve, Kate drew in a deep breath, threw open the car door and climbed out. She strode up the walk; climbed the two steps to Julianna's porch and crossed to the door.

She knocked. When there was no answer after a moment, she pounded.

A moment later the door cracked open. Through the sliver of space, Kate saw that Julianna wore a slinky, silky robe. Her hair was tousled; her face flushed.

There went her last hope-that they really were working.

Fool. Naive, trusting idiot.

"I want to see my husband," she said, voice shaking. "Now."

"I don't know what you're-"

"Cut the crap. His car's out front." Kate shoved at the door and pushed past the other woman.

Julianna cried out. "How dare you! How-"

Richard appeared at the bedroom door, hurriedly zipping his pants. "Julianna, are you all ri-" He stopped when he saw Kate, his face falling. It would have been comical if it weren't so tragic. "K-Kate," he managed to stammer, his voice thick, "what are you doing here?"

Her eyes flooded with tears. "More to the point, husband, what are you doing here?"

"This isn't what it looks like."

"No? Then what is it?"

"It-" He glanced at Julianna, who was wringing her hands and whimpering. The vulnerable, innocent act made Kate want to puke. "We…I spilled coffee on my shirt and…and I took it off to…"

His words trailed pathetically off. As he stood there half-dressed, scrambling around for some lame excuse for being half-naked in his assistant's bedroom on a Saturday afternoon, Kate saw him in a way she never had before.

As weak. And shallow. And completely self-absorbed. Did the man she'd thought she loved for so long even exist?

"Kate," he murmured, holding out a hand in supplication, "I can explain."

She thought of their fight of a few weeks ago. Of the things he had said, of the way he had made her feel-as if there was something wrong with her. As if she was the problem, the one who was letting them down. She folded her arms across her chest, battling the hurt that threatened to tear her apart. "You can explain, Richard? How? By telling me I'm a jealous, possessive shrew? Or by telling me I don't believe in you? Or that I'm not fun anymore?"

He simply stared at her. A first, she thought, the slick lawyer at a loss for words. She looked away, then back, shaking with sudden rage. "You son of a bitch. I trusted you. I-" Tears choked her, and she fought to clear them. "Don't come home, Richard. You're not welcome there any longer."

That night, Kate stood beside Emma's crib and watched her daughter. She slept the deep, untroubled sleep of only the very young; she had no sins to regret, no fears to stalk her, no betrayals to steal her peace of mind.

Kate's eyes welled with tears. She fought the urge to reach out and touch the infant, though she longed to. It wouldn't be fair to wake her only because her mother needed someone to hang on to.

She was so beautiful, Kate thought. So perfect and sweet. She had brought such joy into their lives. No, not their lives; not Richard's. Only hers. Obviously. Richard's betrayal had proved that. If he had cared one whit about being a parent, about being Emma's parent, he wouldn't have thrown her away.

Kate brought a hand to her mouth, working to hold back a cry of despair. How could Richard have done this? How could he have betrayed her this way? How could he have betrayed them?

She spun away from the crib and hurried from the nursery. In the hours since she had discovered Richard's betrayal, she had alternately paced and raged and sobbed. She hadn't answered the phone, though it had rung a dozen times. After the first couple, she had unplugged the recorder. She had been afraid Richard was calling, and she neither wanted to talk to him nor take his message. Not ever again.