Motion to Dismiss Read Free

signs that you used force?"
    Grady gave me a look of disgust. Marc's expression wasn't much different.
    "I told you, she was hot for it. I didn't force her to do anything."
    "Tell us about the woman," Marc said. "Age, occupation, what she looks like."
    "Late twenties, I'd say. Young but not youthful. Attractive, though it was clear she worked at it. A little too much makeup, a few pounds too heavy. Too much perfume."
    And yet somehow irresistible. "Does she work?" I asked.
    Grady shook his head, baffled. "Wait, something with the telephone, I think. Receptionist maybe."
    If Deirdre had spent much time talking about herself, Grady hadn't been listening.
    He pressed his fingertips to his temples, his brawny face suddenly slack. His eyes closed for a moment. "I screwed up," he said morosely. "I know that. I'm not saying I'm above reproach here. But I didn't rape her, for God's sake. If that's what she says, she's lying."
    The distress in his voice was genuine. I felt the hard edge of anger soften.
    "We've got to keep this from Nina. I never meant to hurt her. That's the last thing I want to do."
    Marc rubbed his cheek. "What did you tell the police this afternoon?"
    Grady shook his head again. "When they first mentioned the woman's name, I didn't even know who she was." He lifted his head, leaving faint pink imprints on his face where his fingers had been. "Do you think they'll go ahead with this?"
    "Depends on whether they believe the woman's story," I told him.
    "And whether the D.A. thinks a jury will believe it," Marc added. "It's your word against hers. It comes down to a question of credibility."
    And that was where Grady might be in luck, I thought. He was good-looking, successful, and polished -- with just a trace of vulnerability. No doubt he'd make a convincing witness.
    But then, I hadn't met Deirdre yet.

Chapter 3
    Nina was drinking ginger ale out of a champagne flute. The rest of us had filled ours with the real thing.
    Marc raised his glass. "To the birthday girl."
    "No longer a girl, I'm afraid." Nina smiled. She was stretched out on the sofa, her head and shoulders bolstered by floral chintz cushions. An afghan of rose-colored wool covered her legs and feet.
    "But I'll drink to birthdays," she added. "I've recently come to appreciate that old adage that it's better to have them than not. I'll take as many as I can."
    Nina's voice held the same wry cheerfulness she'd shown since being diagnosed, but I knew that it masked a sea of contradictory emotions. Emotions we'd all, at one time or another, endeavored to step around.
    She looked at our strained faces and gave herself a theatrical slap on the mouth. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put a damper on the evening. It seems lately that whatever the conversation is about, it ultimately comes back to my health."
    Nina's illness was not, however, the source of our discomfort that evening.
    "In any event," Grady said smoothly. "Age becomes you. Every year you grow more beautiful."
    Nina reached for her husband's hand, pulling it across the mound of her belly. She'd always been slender, and though her face was fuller now with the pregnancy, she didn't look as though she was into her sixth month.
    "That's why I love you." Nina lifted his fingers and grazed them with her lips. "To paraphrase Oscar Wilde, 'A good liar is not only a charmer, he's the very basis of civilized society.'"
    Grady and I responded with stiff smiles. Marc laughed a trifle too eagerly.
    I couldn't tell what Marc was feeling. He'd been Nina's friend almost as long as I had. But he was Grady's friend too, as well as legal counsel for ComTech, the company Grady had built from the ground up.
    In truth, I wasn't so sure what I was feeling. Anger, for sure. But there was also a muted sadness that crept through my mind like wisps of fog.
    "You're all so tense tonight," Nina said. "Come on, drink up. It's more than my birthday. There's good news to celebrate as well. Next week I start the medication