Passion's Hope (The Doms of Passion Lake Book 3) (22 page)

* * * *

Marshall County Courthouse was a large, impressive, Federal style brick building with four graceful white columns supporting the front portico. According to the historical marker on the front lawn, it had been built in 1759 by Jedediah Marshall, one of the area’s first settlers. It sat majestically on a rise in the center of an entire city block and was surrounded by manicured lawns and beds full of flowers, dogwood, cherry, and redbud trees, and azalea bushes, green now, but blazing with color in the spring. Four gigantic oak trees provided shade.

The inside was equally magnificent, with marble floors and walls, mahogany doors, and wrought iron banisters with polished brass railings. As they entered the three-story lobby, a door opened and the woman Charlie had seen being flogged in the bondage frame at Club Risqué walked out and immediately spotted them. No mystery there, since Nik, at six feet eight inches tall, was rather difficult to miss.

“Nik! Jay!” Her smile lit up her entire face, making her even more beautiful than she’d been at the Club, with her tear-wet face streaked with mascara, her eyes wide and her lips parted with arousal. Today she was wearing a black silk suit with a periwinkle blue silk shell blouse and black stilettos. Her rich, dark hair tumbled over her shoulders and down her back.

“
Maya sladkaya!”
Nik exclaimed, laughing, picking her up and twirling her around. “You are beautiful, as ever,
devushka.
” When he put her down, she was slightly out of breath. She gave Jay a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek, then she turned to Charlie.

“And you must be Charlie,” she said, extending her hand for Charlie to shake. “I’m Sarah Colter-Sinclair. I’ll be representing you and your interests for the purposes of this deposition and at every court proceeding until this matter is settled.”

She was so petite, Charlie felt like a giant next to her. For a moment she was tempted to stoop, like she’d done in high school when the boys had picked on her, making her self-conscious about her height. But, after a brief inner struggle, she resisted the temptation, instead, straightening her shoulders and standing tall as she returned Sarah’s handshake.

“So lovely to meet you,” she murmured. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to pay you.”

“Oh, sweetie, there’s no charge,” Sarah assured her. “We never charge one of our own. And even if there
were
a charge, you wouldn’t’ be paying it. Nik and Jay have publicly claimed you. In our world that means they have assumed all responsibility for you and your well-being. Besides, I’m always happy to put an abuser behind bars, and this guy needs to be behind bars in the worst possible way. Now, quickly, before all the other attorneys get here, I want you to answer the questions Bradford’s defense attorney asks you, and only the questions he asks you. Don’t volunteer anything extra. He will badger you and try to confuse you, so if I see that happening, I’ll object. Since these proceedings don’t really allow for objections, I’ll be doing so merely to give you a few seconds to gather your thoughts. Don’t let him intimidate you. Just keep an image in your head of his tiny little dick and you’ll do fine.”

Charlie smothered a laugh as Sarah turned her head slightly, watching three men and a middle-aged black woman walk into the lobby, led by Jesse Colter. “And here they come now.”

Jesse brushed his lips over Sarah’s cheek, shook hands with Charlie, Nik, and Jay, then introduced the small group. Mike Conover, Richmond Police Chief; Raymond Baines, Richmond City Attorney; Harmon Pierce, Attorney for Perry Bradford; and Mildred Lawrence, the court reporter who was going to record the entire proceedings.

Mike Conover was tall, nearly Jay’s height, slim and fit in his black uniform, black hair, light blue eyes and a ready smile. Yet another handsome, macho, bad-ass SEAL—
geez
,
what do they put in the water out there in Coronado?
He greeted Nik and Jay with the man-hugs and back slaps usually reserved for long-lost friends. Then he turned to Charlotte, holding out his hand. “And you must be Charlie. Jesse told me all about you. Thank you for agreeing to do this.”

Raymond Baines was average in both height and looks. He wore a charcoal gray suit, a crisp white shirt, and a burgundy striped tie. He was nearly bald and wore rimless glasses. His left arm was in a sling. When Charlie asked what happened, he said he’d broken his wrist in a fall during a tennis match.

Harmon Pierce was a tall, slim, very distinguished-looking man with thin lips, steel-gray hair and piercing gray eyes. He was wearing a dark gray, hand-tailored, silk suit that had to have cost thousands of dollars, with a lighter gray silk shirt, and a darker gray silk tie. He took one look at Sarah and said, “Counselor, what are you doing here? The alleged events in this case happened in Richmond, which is way out of your jurisdiction.”

“I’ve taken a leave of absence from my job as the Marshall County Attorney,” Sarah said pleasantly. “For the sole purpose of this case, I am representing Ms. Fielding’s interests.”

He moved his gaze to Charlie, regarding her with cold disdain, as if she were something that had crawled out from under a rock. Her gaze nearly faltered, until Sarah’s hand brushed against the back of hers and she made it a point to maintain eye contact with the odious man until he finally relinquished her gaze to shake hands with Nik and Jay. His gaze rested pointedly on Nik’s left hand resting on Charlie’s shoulder, before giving Nik an appraising look. “And just what is your interest in this case, Rostov?”

Before Nik could growl at the man, Sarah stepped forward. “Mr. Rostov is my associate, as is Mr. Gillespie,” she answered coolly, clearly not allowing Harmon Pierce to rattle
her
. “And their interest is the same as yours, of course. To see justice done. That
is
why
you’re
here, isn’t it, Mr. Pierce?” Sarah stepped closer to Charlie as Nik folded his arms across his chest and looked down his nose at the much shorter defense attorney, a look that normally had most men quaking in their boots.

But Harmon Pierce was not most men. He was made of sterner stuff. Running his gaze up and down Nik’s jeans, T-shirt, and scuffed biker boots, he murmured with a supercilious sneer, “Obviously this is casual Saturday at your law office, Counselor.”

“Obviously
our
staff isn’t required to work on Saturdays, Counselor,” Sarah retorted. “They are giving up their precious leisure time, without pay, to see to it that your client gets everything that’s coming to him.” She turned to address the gathered group. “All right, everyone, if you would come this way, please,” she said, indicating the wide, sweeping staircase in the center of the lobby. “I’ve reserved one of the second floor conference rooms. It will be quieter up there.”

They climbed the stairs in silence and followed Sarah into a mahogany-paneled conference room with an enormous U-shaped oak table in the center, surrounded by comfortable chairs upholstered in rich brown leather. A tray full of heavy crystal glasses and a matching carafe of ice water was on a serving table just inside the door. Each person filled a glass with water and carried it over to a place at the massive table. The chairs were all on large casters, which made maneuvering them on the thick, beige carpet relatively easy. Sarah led Nik, Jay, and Charlie to the head of the table. Baines and Conover took one side, leaving the third side for Harmon Pierce. The court stenographer sat at her own table off to one side.

Pierce made a great show of opening his briefcase and withdrawing several file folders. He opened the top one and flipped through the top two or three pages. Raymond Baines stood up and addressed the group. “Thank you all for coming this morning. We are here to take the deposition of Miss Charlotte Fielding regarding a complaint she filed on August nineteenth with the Richmond Police Department against one Perry Bradford of the city of Richmond, Virginia. Miss Fielding, would you please be so good as to tell us in your own words the events that transpired between you and Mr. Bradford that led to this complaint?” He sat back down.

Charlotte nodded, licking her lips in an attempt to moisten them. When that didn’t work, she took a sip of water from the glass Jay handed her.

“I met Perry Bradford on July sixteenth at a Munch in Richmond.”

“And what, exactly, is a Munch, Miss Fielding?” Harmon Pierce didn’t even bother to look up to ask his question. He just kept scribbling in the margins of the paper in front of him.

“It’s a get-together of people interested in the-the BDSM lifestyle.”

Pierce looked up sharply. “BDSM, Ms. Fielding? You mean… dungeons and torture chambers? Masters and slaves? Whips and chains? You’re into that? And don’t the last two letters stand for sadism? And masochism? Which one are you, Ms. Fielding? A sadist or a masochist?”

“Mr. Pierce,” Raymond Baines said, “Please save your comments and questions until after Miss Fielding has made her statement. Otherwise we’ll be here all day.”

Pierce just grunted and made a shooing motion with his hand.

Charlotte started again, explaining what a Munch was and her concept of BDSM and what she’d been looking for in the lifestyle. Safe, Sane and Consensual. The three basic tenets of ethical lifestylers. Which is what she thought she’d found with Perry Bradford. She told them in great detail of how he had dated her for over two weeks, taking her to plays and concerts and fine restaurants and how charming he had been. She told them about their first sexual encounter, that night on her dining room table, and how it had been more of an assault than a liaison. She didn’t tell them how excited Perry’s actions had made her and how humiliated she’d been by his cold disregard of her afterward. She told them about their visit to a private club in Richmond where he had tied her to a punishment bench and spanked her before taking her to a private room for more spanking and rough sex. And she told them about his invitation to a “Wild, Wicked, Wonderful Week-End” at his house.

She paused, nearly choking on the tears thickening in her throat, forming a lump the size of a boulder. It took several slow sips of water to dissolve enough of it to allow her to continue.

Starting with being forced to strip and go down on him the minute she’d entered his front door, she described in a halting but determined voice, all the horrors she had been forced to endure during her three weeks of captivity and utter sexual servitude. Being tied to the chair all day to be raped over and over at his whim. The forced enemas and having to scrub out the wash tub afterwards, naked and tied to a post in his back yard. Being forced to sleep in a locked coffin under his bed and how terrified she’d been that if something had happened to him, she would have died there.

She described being shackled by the neck, on her hands and knees in a cage, utterly helpless, her mouth and ass positioned for him to fuck her between the bars. Of being forced to crawl around his back yard, naked, and having to pee in the grass like a dog.

She told them about all the beatings he’d given to her with his belt and his single-tail. About how the last beating was so severe that when she’d tried to get away from him, he’d backhanded her so hard she’d fallen and hit her head on a granite countertop. About her narrow escape from the hospital and how she’d been on the run ever since. She didn’t leave out a single detail, and when she was done a hush hung over the entire room. A hush no one seemed willing to break.

Until Raymond Baines, clearly uncomfortable with all the things she’d just described cleared his throat, tugged at his collar, shot his cuffs and said, “Thank you, Ms. Fielding. Is there anything else you’d like to add?”

“No,” she said in a wry voice, “I think I’ve covered all the salient points.”

Harmon Pierce tossed his pen to the table and threw up his hands. “Ms. Fielding. Surely you don’t expect any of us to believe this preposterous story, do you?”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Yes. Because that is exactly what happened. Perry Bradford did all of those things and more to me for three solid weeks.”

Harmon Pierce stood up and said, “Ms. Fielding, there were no witnesses to any of these alleged assaults, were there?”

“No,” she admitted reluctantly.

“So there is no one who can corroborate this…outlandish tale, is there?”

“No one. Except the nurse and the ER doctor at VCU Hospital who witnessed all the injuries your client inflicted on me. They have photos.”

“Move to strike.”

“This isn’t a trial, Counselor,” Baines reminded him dryly. “You’re stuck with the answer she gives you.”

Pierce started walking toward her. “My client didn’t kidnap you, did he? He didn’t put a knife to your throat or a gun to your head and drag you into his car and forcibly take you to his house, did he? You went willingly, didn’t you?” He jabbed his index finger into the tabletop. “You walked into his house of your own free will. Didn’t you, Miss Fielding? Because you wanted the things he did to you! You asked for them. Didn’t you?”

“Counselor,” Baines said with sighing impatience, “please sit down and save your theatrics for the trial. There’s no jury here for you to play to and I will not have you badgering the witness.”

Pierce just grunted and went back to his seat. He fiddled with his notes for a moment, then aimed his glowering gaze directly at Charlie, who returned it steadily.

“Ms. Fielding, how many boyfriends have you had?”

“Objection,” Sarah said. “Irrelevant to these proceedings.”

“This is not a trial, Counselor,” Harmon Pierce said snidely. “You’re not allowed to object. Please answer the question Ms. Fielding.”

“I’ve had three fairly long-term relationships.”

“Was one of them with Cameron Neeley?”

“Objection Counselor,” Sarah said again, “What does this have to do with anything in the witness’s statement?”

“Just answer the question, Ms. Fielding.”

“Yes, Cam and I had a brief relationship.”

“And didn’t he break off that relationship because you wanted him to do vile and filthy things to you—”

“Absolutely not!” Charlie started to jump up, but Sarah’s hand on her thigh stopped her.

“Didn’t you ask him to tie you up and beat you and rape you—?”

“I never asked him for anything like that!”

Pierce waved a piece of paper. “I have his deposition right here.”

“Cam would never say anything like that!”

“Why not? Because you threatened to ruin him if he did?”

“No. Because it never happened!”
God,
this was so much worse than she could ever have imagined.

“He will tell the jury otherwise.”

“Then he will be lying!” Charlie spat out. Suddenly she was having trouble breathing. Nik took hold of her hand under the table. “I never asked him to do any of that to me! Nor did I ask your client to do them to me either!”

“Of course you did. Why else would you say he did them? Why would anyone do the things you say he did to you unless you
asked him for it! Begged him for it!”

Sarah jumped up. “Counselor, that’s enough! You have the witness’s statement. If your questions are merely to browbeat her, then save it for the trial.”

“I only have one more question, Counselor.” Gathering his papers, he tapped them on the table several times before shoving them back into the file folder. He just stood looking down at them before raising his head and looking at her once again. “Isn’t it true, Ms. Fielding, that you are only bringing these specious charges against my client because you want money?”

“No, that is not true.”

“Didn’t you threaten to take him to court unless he paid you an exorbitant amount of hush money?”

“Absolutely not! How dare you!”

“Didn’t you ask for everything he did to you, Ms. Fielding?”

“You think I asked to be held against my will? Do you think I
liked
being tied up, raped, tortured and beaten so badly I ended up in the hospital?”

“Didn’t you?”

“No, of course not! That’s insane!”

“Isn’t this just a case of ‘buyer’s remorse’? You got in a little over your head? And now, in order to make yourself feel less guilty and ashamed, you’ve come up with this scam?”

“It’s not a scam!”

Sarah stood up. “That’s enough, Mr. Pierce. This deposition is over. We’ll see you in court.”

They all stood and watched Harmon Pierce gather his files, shove them in his briefcase and get up. “Ladies.” A curt nod toward Charlie and Sarah, “Gentlemen.” Another toward the rest of the room in general and he was gone.

The entire room seemed to deflate. Mildred Lawrence began packing up her machine.

Raymond Baines rose from his seat. “Thank you, Mrs. Lawrence, for coming all this way. How soon can I expect your transcript?”

“I’ll have it for you first thing Monday morning, Mr. Baines.” She stood, draped her jacket over her arm, picked up her case and her purse.

Sarah stepped forward to shake the woman’s hand. “Thank you, Mrs. Lawrence. We appreciate your service.”

Mike Conover looked over at Charlie. She was slumped against Nik. He had his arm around her, his hand patting her shoulder. His head was bent low next to hers.

“You did great, baby girl,” Nik said.

“You did better than great,” Jay added. “You were magnificent. You didn’t let him rattle you.”

She gave a shaky laugh, holding up a visibly trembling hand. “Oh, yeah? You call this unrattled?”

“Ms. Fielding,” Conover stopped in front of them, his hands clasped in front of him, holding his cap. “I am so sorry for the ordeal Perry Bradford put you through.”

She just gave him a world-weary look. “Thank you, Chief. Please call me Charlie. And please tell me you have enough to bring him to trial.”

“Well, we certainly have enough to file charges. In the meantime, my detectives are out interviewing the owners and other patrons of the BDSM clubs Bradford frequented. Others are questioning some of the women he was photographed with at various charity events. I’m sure you’re not the first woman he’s done this to. If there are others out there, we’ll find them and we’ll do our best to persuade them to add their testimony to yours. Sarah will let you know when we present to the Grand Jury—probably next week. You’ll have to testify, of course. But neither Harmon Pierce nor Perry Bradford will be there.”

“Thank God. Perry Bradford is a predator and the sooner he’s behind bars, the better. And if I can help put him there, so much the better.”

“Thanks, Charlie. Looking forward to seeing you again.” Chief Conover shook hands all around and started to leave, but paused and turned back to Charlie. “”By the way, the officer who took your complaint—”

“Sergeant Sanchez?” she supplied.

“I just wanted you to know he’s been placed on leave without pay until he’s successfully completed a month-long sensitivity training class. He has been demoted from Sergeant to patrol officer and when he gets back, he’ll be walking a beat. He will also have a black mark on his record.”

“Thank you for following up on that,” Charlie said. “I really appreciate it. The way he treated me was—”She shuddered. “He was very condescending and kept calling me sweetheart in that sneering tone of voice that told me that for him ‘sweetheart’ was a substitute for ‘bitch’.”

“His behavior was completely unacceptable and he now knows that.”

“Thank you.”

He clapped Nik and Jay on the shoulder. “Guys, great seeing you again. I’ll let you know when I need her for the Grand Jury. In the meantime, take good care of your girl.”

“Not a problem,” Nik grinned.

“You couldn’t be in better hands, Ms. Fielding,” Conover said.

“Charlie,” she reminded. “I’m definitely beginning to realize that and am supremely grateful for it, believe me.”

Charlie, Jay, and Nik were the last ones to leave the conference room. They stopped to thank Jesse and Sarah. Sarah hugged Charlie good-bye and Jesse walked them out of the courthouse. They paused on the top step at the edge of the portico while Jay unhooked his sunglasses from the neckline of his shirt and put them on.

“Hey.” Jesse made a show of shoving his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and looking around casually. “Don’t look now,” he said, raising his head and squinting up at the sky. “But see that silver Subaru parked at the bottom of the stairs? The guy in the driver’s seat? He was sittin’ there when I came in. That was three hours ago. He’s still sittin’ there. He doesn’t live in Marshall’s Creek, that’s for sure. I’ve never seen him before. And look what he’s wearin’, for chrissakes. It’s ninety-six degrees out here and he’s wearin’ a turtle-neck and a bulky jacket. I’d be willin’ to wager he’s carryin’.”

Standing at the top of the steps, they positioned themselves so Jay could study the man from behind his dark glasses. He was bald and pudgy, with the thick neck, shoulders, and upper arms of an out-of-shape ex-prizefighter. His nose had been broken more than once. Dark glasses hid his eyes. His head was turned to the left, his gaze directed to a point beyond where they were standing. He was watching the front door.

A man exited the courthouse, walked to the edge of the front portico and paused at the top of the steps around twenty feet from the foursome.

“Well, well, well,” Jesse said. “Don’t look now, but guess who just came out the door.”

“Lemme guess.” Jay hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans and looked down at his cowboy boots. “The Anti-Christ.”

“In the flesh. Lookin’ directly at the man in the car. Oh, my, isn’t
that
interestin’?” Jesse watched Pierce give a tiny little jerk of his head in their direction, a movement so slight that if Jesse hadn’t been looking right at him, he would have missed it completely.

“I think he just pointed you out,” Jesse murmured. “If I were you, I’d take the long way home. And watch your six.”

“You got it.”

With Charlie between them, they said good-bye to Jesse and descended the steps, talking about where they were going to eat lunch, as if that were the only thing on their minds. They walked right past the silver Subaru, not even looking at the man inside. Across the street, while Nik climbed into the back, Jay handed Charlie into the passenger seat of the Humvee and leaned across her to buckle her seat belt. Then, fishing the keys out of his pocket, he scurried around to the driver’s side, folded himself into the seat and took out his cell phone.

“Who are you calling?” Charlie asked, curious.

“Jason Ingram. He’s a buddy of ours, a computer genius with the ability to access files most governments would kill to get a hold of.”

A deep, male voice came over the speaker. “Jay, my man, what’s up?”

“Yo, Jason. How bored are you?”

“Don’t tell me you want me to run a plate for you. Oh, my God. That’s even more boring than what I’m already doing?”

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”

“Just sitting here trying to decide whether to re-grout the bathtub or organize my sock drawer. Okay, let me have it.”

Jay read off the license plate number from the piece of paper Nik handed him. “We want a full rundown on this guy, including his grandmother’s dress size.” He turned his head to look at Nik, who was sitting in the back seat behind Charlie.

“Okay, Papa Bear, what’s it to be? Do we ditch him? Let him follow us?”

“Follow us!” Charlie cried, clearly shocked.

“It’s okay, baby girl. We know what we’re doing.”

“Baby girl?” Jason asked, clearly amused. “Well, well, well. Guess I know who
isn’t
going to be re-grouting
their
tub any time soon.”

Jay laughed. “Charlie, meet Jason Ingram. Jason, Miss Charlotte Fielding.”

“Hi, Charlie, nice to meet you.”

“Same here, Jason.” Somehow she managed to keep her inner tension out of her voice. “I understand you’re a genius.”

“Only on Mondays,” he countered with a laugh.

“Thanks, buddy,” Jay said. “We owe you.”

“Damn straight. And one of these days I’m gonna collect, too. Nice to meet you, Charlie.”

“Same here, Jason. Thanks for your help.”

“For you, kiddo, any time, no charge.”

“Hey!” Jay protested

“Suck it up, Jay,” Jason laughed. “She’s prettier than you.”

“How do you know? She could be a dried-up, toothless old hag with a wart on her nose.”

“Who’re you calling old?” Charlie asked in feigned indignation, making everyone laugh.

“Okay,” Nik said finally. “Let’s let him follow us. But make him earn his money. We’ll go real slow and have a nice, leisurely lunch at Katie’s when we get back to Passion Lake. Come to think of it,” he teased, ““maybe I should drive. You are genetically incapable of going below 80 miles per hour.”

Jay just made a face at him while he started the car, backed out, and drove slowly off down Court Street in the direction of Passion Lake. Sure enough, the silver Subaru backed out right after them and stayed behind them the entire way, always maintaining the same distance. Even when Jay was only going fifteen miles per hour and earning the wrath of every other driver on the road for having to swerve around them. Most of them flipped him the bird as they flew past.