Redress of Grievances (15 page)

"I
don't like feeling...trapped," Sharon said flatly.

"Are
you claustrophobic?"

"No.
I just don't like for anyone to touch me without my permission. A quirk, I
guess."

"Tell
me about Jan."

"Who?"

"Parker
said you had an imaginary playmate named Jan when you were little."

Sharon
laughed. "God! I haven't thought about her in eons. I don't know what I
could possibly tell you about someone who doesn't exist. I guess every kid has
an invisible playmate at some time. I think I made her up from some story I
heard."

"Are
you and your brother close?"

"Not
so much now that he's in Austin most of the time. He's getting married next
winter. I hope I can be there."

"Paige
spoke very highly of you."

"She's
a sweet girl. Parker's a lucky man."

"Do
you think the difference in their ages will be a problem?"

Sharon
closed her eyes and rolled her head around on her shoulders.

"An
age difference never bothered him before, so I don't suppose it will now,"
Sharon said cryptically. "There's a lot an older man can teach a younger
woman."

"There
is something to be said for experience, I guess," Harriett agreed.

"Is
Paige a virgin?" Sharon asked, the corners of her mouth turning up
slightly.

"Why
would you ask that?"

"Just
curious. I've read that men like young virginal women, even though they're an
endangered species today."

Harriett
looked across the table at Sharon. Throwing her head back, Sharon took a deep
breath before meeting Harriett's eyes again, arching her left eyebrow.

"Are
you a lesbian, Harriett?"

"My
personal life isn't pertinent to your case," Harriett said.

Leaning
forward on the table, Sharon said, "Ever seen a fabulously beautiful woman
and wondered what it would be like to touch her, feel her against you?"

"Have
you?"

"When
I was younger. But not now." Sharon shrugged as she leaned back in her
chair again. "One of those awkward teenage things probably."

Harriett
glanced at the clock on the wall behind Sharon.

"Your
father will be here with Kevin and Laurel soon," she said.

"I
should make myself a little more presentable then," Sharon said.

Chapter
Fourteen

HARRIETT
ARRIVED AT the office of Dallas County District Attorney Harry Ward at eight
forty-five Friday morning, accompanied by Wayne. Ward's secretary escorted her
into his office a few minutes later. She had known Harry Ward when he had been
in private practice. During her absence from Dallas, he had run for and been
elected District Attorney. Except for a few pounds added to his waistline, he
hadn't changed much over the years. He still had a full head of ash brown hair
and perpetual frown furrows across his forehead. He stood as she crossed the
office to shake his hand, and allowed himself the luxury of a momentary smile.

"Been
a long time, Harriett," Ward said, motioning to a chair across from his
desk. Setting her briefcase down next to her, she glanced around Ward's office.

"I
see this office hasn't changed much," she said with a smile. "It
looks pretty much the same as it was under the last DA."

"Continuity.
Besides if I moved anything I'd probably never be able to find it again. I
expect you're here to feel us out about the Taggart case."

"I've
looked over the paperwork your office sent me and..."

"Whoa!
I'm not the one handling this case, Harriett. In fact, I have to be in court in
about half an hour on another case that's already taken way too much time. I've
assigned Taggart to an assistant."

"Then
I guess I'll have to meet with him."

"He's
just gathering up some things, and then I'll turn the two of you loose on each
other in a conference room," Ward said. "To tell you the truth, he wanted
this case. Lobbied for it pretty hard so I hope he doesn't screw it up. He's
new, so be gentle with him."

"I
thought Todd Connor might be the ADA assigned to the Taggart case."

"He
was, but another case took a turn we hadn't expected."

The
door to Ward's office opened and a young man rushed in, adjusting his tie.

"Harriett
Markham, meet Assistant District Attorney Sean Lassiter."

She
stood and extended her hand to Lassiter, a tall, thin man with darting
ferret-like brown eyes. He shook her hand and released it quickly.

"I
have everything set up in a room down the hall," he said more to Ward than
Harriett. "Riley will join us in a few minutes.

"Riley?"
she asked.

"Yes,
Detective James Riley was the lead investigator on this case," Lassiter answered
with a smile. "And he seemed unusually pleased when he heard you'd be
handling the defense."

Ward
looked at his watch and stood. "Well, looks like the bell has rung for
round one. I have to get to court. Good luck."

Harriett
and Lassiter followed Ward from the office and turned left as he turned right
toward the elevators. Wayne fell in behind them. Entering the conference room,
she placed her briefcase on the table and removed a pad. Lassiter unbuttoned
the jacket to his suit and sat down across from her.

"Mrs.
Taggart's representative at the arraignment entered a not guilty plea," he
said. "Are you planning to amend that?"

"No.
I'm satisfied with the plea. For now."

"Did
you find all the paperwork in order?"

"Yes.
But I'm curious about how you arrived at the charge."

"The
grand jury found it justifiable considering the number of people who died or
were seriously injured as a result of your client's actions."

"Alleged
actions," she corrected, raising
her eyes from the notepad to look at him. "From what I've read and seen,
the only real piece of evidence you have is the Browning. That hardly seems to
justify first degree. You don't have a motive on Mrs. Taggart's part, and the
only crime you have the remotest link to is the death of Leonard Kaufmann, which
was the result of a traffic accident."

"Ballistics
has determined that the same weapon was used in all of the shootings."

"From
this Browning?" Harriett asked, looking at the evidence inventory sheet in
front of her.

"The
shells all came from the same lot as the ones found at the Taggart home.
Ballistics confirmed that this Browning left the markings on the shell casings
found at each scene."

"I'm
afraid no matter which way I look at this case, Mr. Lassiter, unless you're
able to prove my client's intent, I don't see anything better than voluntary
manslaughter here. There's absolutely nothing here to infer her intent."

"That's
ridiculous!" Lassiter huffed.

"The
hammer marks on the shells may be consistent with a Browning, but my expert
tells me that the hammer marks are inconclusive and could have been made by any
Browning in Dallas County or beyond," Harriett lied. "Can I assume
you will be introducing the business end of the bullets
allegedly
fired
by my client?"

Lassiter
didn't answer for a moment. "We were only able to recover one of
those."

"And
where was it found?"

"Lodged
in a telephone pole at the scene of the Kaufmann death."

"Have
your forensic people estimated how long it might have been in the pole, or were
you planning to make an educated guess?"

"They
believe it was introduced to the pole recently."

"I'm
not interested in what they believe, Mr. Lassiter, only in what they know for a
fact. And a fact that I know is that none of the people who died or were injured
were shot. All of their injuries were the result of traffic accidents, many of
which happen in Dallas every day."

"And
their accidents were caused by your client firing at their vehicles as they
drove down the highway, making her actions the proximate cause of their
deaths."

"But
that, if proven, would only demonstrate reckless disregard, which is still not
murder one. My client didn't know any of the victims of the accidents and had
absolutely no motive whatsoever to harm any of them."

"The
recovered bullet was fired from the Taggart's Browning. And that, Ms. Markham,
is not a guess. It's a fact. And by the way, you might want to know that Mrs.
Taggart has been identified by the owner of a gun shop in Burleson. He sold her
the ammunition for the Browning and remembered her because of the uniqueness of
those particular shells."

Harriett
hadn't expected this new revelation, but tried not to look surprised.

"I
don't see a mention of that on my disclosure sheet. Slip your mind?" she
asked.

"It
came to our attention after you received those papers. You would have gotten an
official notification tomorrow."

"Anything
else happen to pop up unexpectedly that you'd like to tell me about?"
Harriett asked.
"I
advise you not to make those omissions a
habit."

"We'll
continue to strengthen our case against Mrs. Taggart up to the trial date. If
that doesn't meet your agenda, I don't see that as my problem," Lassiter
shrugged.

"You
only have one witness who may or may not have seen the most recent shooting. A
Mrs. Emma Sanchez, age sixty-seven."

"She
observed your client with a rifle at the Kaufmann scene."

"Has
she picked Mrs. Taggart from a line-up?"

"She
made a tentative identification of both Mrs. Taggart and her vehicle."

"A
dark blue, or possibly black, Ford Taurus." She read from the paperwork in
front of her. "Probably aren't more than several thousand of those in and
around the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex."

"With
a partial plate."

"All
you have is the first three letters, which make up only one of the DMV codes for
Dallas County. How could you possibly have narrowed down thousands of vehicles,
most of whose plates begin with those letters, to Mrs. Taggart? That's a leap
in deductive reasoning that would have required a crystal ball," Harriett
said flatly.

"It's
the result of good police work," James Riley said from behind Harriett.

She
turned her head to look at Detective Riley. He looked much older, but his eyes
told her that he hadn't forgotten Ashley Lawrence.

"What's
he doing here?" Riley asked, looking at Wayne.

"Mr.
Graham has been hired as an investigator by the defense," Harriett said as
she stood up, ready for a confrontation with Riley.

"Well,
he ain't gonna find any technical loopholes in this case like he did in the
Wilkes case," Riley sneered.

Harriett
hadn't expected the Wilkes case to become a part of the discussion so quickly,
and the mention of it touched a nerve that was still raw.

"If
you'd done your job the right way back then, Wilkes wouldn't have gotten out to
kill again," Wayne said as he, too, stood up to face Riley. "You
still not willing to take responsibility for your own stupidity, Riley?"

Riley
stepped toward Wayne.

"That's
enough!" Lassiter said loudly. "Let's pay attention to what we're
doing here. You two can settle your private problems later."

Riley
took a seat next to Lassiter, but continued to glare at Wayne.

"Mrs.
Taggart has no alibi for any of the nights in question," the ADA resumed.

"Innocent
people seldom need to recall their whereabouts. Do you know where you were on any
of those nights, Mr. Lassiter?" Harriett asked.

"As
I'm sure you know, this has been an ongoing investigation by the police
department."

"And
I know they hadn't been able to come up with anyone as a suspect until they tripped
over Sharon Taggart, who had absolutely no reason to commit any of these
crimes. Unless you can come up with something more substantial in the way of
evidence that links Sharon Taggart to them, I'm going to petition the court for
a dismissal of the charges against her."

"The
ballistics testimony alone will be sufficient to put her in prison."

"Perhaps,
but you won't be able to make a case for anything more than voluntary
manslaughter."

"Sharon
Taggart wasn't some damn kid out taking potshots at street lights, Ms.
Markham," Riley said, leaning forward. "She wanted to cause the
deaths of those people. She planned those crimes and carried them out, which is
called premeditation and malice aforethought. Her motive is irrelevant. She
just had a damn good time doing it."

Harriett
slipped her pad back into her briefcase and snapped it shut. "You'll be
getting a copy of my petition to the judge this afternoon." She stood and
turned to leave, as Wayne opened the door.