Redress of Grievances (18 page)

"Interview
summaries and videos of your client at work and with her family."

"Does
Sharon know you videotaped her?"

"No,
but I don't think she'll sue you over it. Especially if you get her off."

"I
wouldn't put much money on that," Harriett said as she read the labels on
the videos.

Reaching
into the box, Wayne dropped two stacks of papers on the desk. "These are
copies of some materials I found in her filing cabinet, and a list of books on
her bookshelf. Pretty interesting reading, if you're a lawyer."

When
Nick entered Harriett's office, she was reading the interview statements.
"Have you seen the videos, Wayne?" she asked.

"Yep."

"Got
an opinion?"

"You
ain't paying me for my opinion, kiddo."

Looking
at him, she smiled. "I trust your opinion. What do you think?"

"The
cops didn't make any mistakes on this one. The evidence is pretty convincing. I
think she shot at those cars and caused the accidents that killed the people in
them. It's kind of interesting that none of the cars had passengers, almost
like she picked ones with only a driver. Three others survived though, so I
guess you could say she didn't mean for anyone to get killed."

Nick
stood behind Harriett and picked up the evidence inventory sheet.

"Pretty
impressive evidence," he said. "Gun, ammo, fingerprints, powder
residue, an eyewitness, and no alibi. Too bad you're not the prosecutor."

"The
only thing missing is a motive," Wayne said.

"They
don't need a motive for a conviction. Is she nuts?" Nick asked.

"Not
from what I've observed. Just confused," Harriett shrugged.

"Claiming
a memory loss?"

"No.
Claiming categorically that she didn't do it even in the face of all this
evidence," Harriett frowned.

"When
did the shootings start?"

"About
a year and a half ago," Harriett said.

"I
think you're going to find that a lot happened about a year and a half or two
years ago," Wayne said. "Everyone I've talked to has made some
reference to that time period. That she changed around then in some way, but
they weren't very specific about what the change was."

"What
did the people you spoke to say about that time?" Harriett asked.

"Her
principal said Sharon had a falling out with another teacher about a year or so
ago. Other teachers said she became suddenly withdrawn around the same time.
Two years ago she had her second kid, and a friend said it affected Sharon
somehow. She became distant and began cutting herself off from everyone. Was
depressed enough to seek help at a mental health clinic. It's sort of a common
thread running through the interviews. Plus, I think you might find my
interview with Louise Harmon interesting. She didn't come right out and say so,
but I'd bet my pension that she and Sharon were lovers."

"Her
mother said she once suspected that Sharon was a lesbian."

"Could
be bi," Wayne shrugged.

"Let's
see a movie," Harriett said. "Sorry I can't offer you any
popcorn."

Wayne
picked up a video and slid it into a TV-VCR combination on Harriett's bookcase.

"Who's
this?" Harriett asked.

"The
husband," Wayne said as the video flickered and began. "It's the most
useful tape."

Nick
closed the blinds behind Harriett's desk before taking a seat.

Frank
Taggart was waiting in a spouse's visiting room as Sharon was brought in.

"Nice
looking woman," Nick observed.

Sharon
took a seat across from her husband and asked, "How are the kids?"

"How
do you expect them to be with their mother in jail?"

Sharon
smiled slightly. "Dad brought them to see me a couple of days ago."

"If
I'd known what he was going to do, they wouldn't have gotten out of the
house."

"I
met them in another room, not here."

"What
did you tell them?"

"That
I'd be home soon and not to worry. We just talked about what they were doing in
day care mostly, and they brought some pictures they drew for me."

"The
shit's gonna hit the fan soon, Sharon. When the trial starts, it'll be in the
papers. People will ask the kids questions."

"You
have to keep them away from all that, Frank. It's a mistake."

"You
know, you've done some dumb shit stuff before, but even I can't believe you're
stupid enough to do something like this. How do you think it makes me
look?"

Sharon
didn't speak and looked away from her husband. For a moment, the video camera
caught her face, causing Harriett to sit up and watch the video intently.

"Since
you're not the one sitting in jail, I'd say you're looking pretty damn good,
Frank. Is that why you're here? So I can feel sorry for you? We have to face
this together."

"We
haven't done anything together in years."

"When
I get out of here, maybe we should see a counselor."

"You
wouldn't go the last time."

"I
don't mean a sex therapist. A family counselor."

"We
wouldn't have problems if you didn't protect that pussy of yours like it was
one of the crown jewels. If it wasn't for that, we wouldn't have any
problems."

"Can
we have a conversation just once without you bringing up sex?"

"Look,
Sharon, I'm sorry you're in here, but I don't think a therapist or a counselor
is going to help us. I'll stick with you through the trial, but I've already
spoken to an attorney about a divorce."

"When
did you do that?"

"A
month ago. Before this mess."

Sharon
leaned forward on the table, "Before or after you raped me?"

Frank
laughed derisively, "Shit, girl! I never raped you."

"I'm
sorry, Frank. You're right. Was it before or after you 'fucked me for my own
good?'" The forcefulness behind her statement surprised Harriett, and she
glanced at Wayne and Nick to see their reactions.

"It
didn't hurt you none," Frank Taggart said.

"Well,
what woman wouldn't enjoy having your dick shoved up her ass?"

"You
didn't say nothing about it, and I know you came. If I could've gotten to what
I wanted to begin with, I wouldn't have been forced into that," Frank
shrugged. Leaning closer to Sharon, he lowered his voice. "Besides, now
that we've done it that way, I kinda liked it. When you get out of here maybe
I'll give it another shot."

"You
won't get the chance. Do it to whoever the hell you're seeing behind my
back."

"Already
did, and she loved it."

Sharon
stood up abruptly. "Get the hell out of here! And don't do me any favors
by coming back."

"When
I go, the kids go with me. If you get out and want to keep seeing Kevin and
Laurel, you'll give it up any time I want it. Otherwise, I hope you can
remember what their faces look like."

Sharon
swung her fist to strike Frank, but he grabbed her arm and twisted it, forcing
her to turn her back to him. As Harriett, Wayne and Nick watched, Frank Taggart
held Sharon from behind, fondling her as she struggled to get away from him.

"Relax,
baby," Frank said. "This is supposed to be a conjugal visit."

"Please
don't, Frank," Sharon said. Although the quality of the video shot through
the two-way mirror was not the best, Harriett could see tears running down
Sharon Taggart's cheeks.

"Uh-uh.
To tell you the truth, it turns me on when you put up a fight. Feel that,"
he said as he pulled her closer against him.

"Let
me go, you bastard!" Sharon seethed as she attempted to thrash around in
Frank's arms.

Ignoring
her, Frank led her toward a cell cot next to the wall and forced her down onto
it. Releasing her, Frank ordered Sharon to remove her orange coveralls. For an
interminable minute Sharon became quiet and stared at Frank as he stood over
her. Then a smile crossed her lips as she pulled down the zipper on the front
of the coveralls, sitting up to let them fall away from her shoulders.

"I've
seen enough," Harriett said.

"No,"
Wayne said. "Wait. The best part is coming up."

"Other
than being a very poor choice of words, Wayne, I don't have any desire to watch
a rape. This is in the county jail, for Christ's sake. Where the hell are the
guards?"

"Just
wait, okay?"

Harriett
forced herself to look at the television scene again. Sharon had gotten up and
unfastened her bra, exposing well-developed breasts to her husband.

"Is
this what you want, Frank?" Sharon asked softly as she touched herself
seductively.

"You
know it is," he answered.

Sharon
moved toward him, still smiling, moving her eyes up and down his body.
"You wanna fuck me, baby?"

Frank
seemed dumbfounded as she pressed her body against his.

"I
want you to fuck me."

"Why
do you always play this stupid game, Sharon?"

She
kissed his neck and ran her tongue around his ear. "Because I like it, and
I know how much it turns you on."

Sharon
raised herself on her toes and drew Frank's mouth to hers until they melted
together.

"Watch
this," Wayne said over his shoulder.

Sharon's
hand found the zipper on Frank's pants and pulled it down. Frank Taggart was
lost in whatever he was feeling and was oblivious to his wife's hand as it
wandered along his crotch. Finally she slipped her hand into his pants. As he
felt her hand, Frank looked at Sharon and smiled. The smile left his face
abruptly, replaced by pain.

"What
the hell are you doing, Sharon? That hurts."

"I'm
just showing you how much I love you, baby. It won't hurt you any. You might
even like it," she purred.

"Stop
it, goddammit!" Frank yelled.

"Uh-uh,"
Sharon said. "Just relax, Frank."

This
time it was Taggart trying to get away from his wife.

"Don't
move, Frank. You'll hurt yourself if you struggle. If I slip, I might
accidentally rip a hole in one of these balls you're so proud of."

Frank
stopped moving, but there was still pain on his face. Sharon pulled him closer
to her.

"Look
at me, Frank," Sharon ordered. When he failed to do so, a slight movement
of her hand inside his pants resulted in his immediate obedience.

"Do
I have your complete attention, Frankie boy?"

Frank
nodded and looked at Sharon.

"You're
never going to hurt her again. And if you even think about taking off with her
kids, I'll hunt you down and kill you like the motherfuckin' animal you are.
Understand?"

Frank
nodded again.

"I
missed those other people because I wanted to miss them, but you know what a
good shot I am. I won't miss you. If she'd let me, I'd rip your balls out right
now and get it over with."

Giving
his crotch one final squeeze that doubled him over, Sharon released Frank and
pushed him away from her. Calmly, she slipped her bra and coveralls back on.

"You'll
recover, Frank. This time. I'll have someone watching you and the kids, so
don't think about doing anything stupid."

Sharon
went to the door of the room and knocked, stepping back to wait for a guard to
open the door.

Wayne
stopped the tape. "Did you catch that last part?" he asked.

"Yeah,
rewind it a little," Harriett said.

The
three of them watched the last segment two more times before turning the tape
off.

"What
do you make of that?" Harriett asked Wayne and Nick.

"I'd
like to know who 'her' is," Nick said.

"What
are you thinkin'?" Wayne asked.

"I'm
thinking that I don't know whom I just saw on that tape," Harriett
answered. "I've met with Sharon Taggart. Except for being fixated on her
children, she was nothing like the woman I just saw."

"What
about the husband?" Nick asked. "You met him, too, didn't you?"

"His
behavior doesn't surprise me. He mentioned their sex life wasn't as good as he
wanted it to be."

"You
think he raped her?"

"Sounds
like he might have. I'd sure like to know exactly when that happened."

"Well,
I don't think good ole Frank is gonna tell you," Wayne said.

"All
he told me was that they had a fight, and he went to bed and fell asleep on
January eighteenth. According to him, Sharon was home when he went to bed and
when he woke up the next morning. I wonder if that was the night he raped
her."

"You
gonna ask Sharon?"