Redress of Grievances (26 page)

Jess
smiled when she saw the look on Harriett's face. "What?"

"I
grew up in Anson."

Setting
her poker down, Jess frowned. "Well then, I guess you know that means I'll
have to take you home. We both know that Stamford and Anson are mortal
enemies."

"Only
on the football field or basketball court and only when you're sixteen or
seventeen," Harriett laughed.

Slipping
an arm around Harriett's waist and giving her a gentle squeeze, Jess smiled,
"Thank God or I'd have to eat two steaks by myself."

Twenty
minutes later, Jess carried two large Porterhouse steaks outside and placed
them over the hot coals. "These shouldn't take too long," she said.

Harriett
half reclined on a chaise lounge and watched Jess intently. The wine cooler had
relaxed her, and the faint smell of mesquite smoke and sizzling beef made her
mouth water. She felt comfortable around Jess and wanted to get to know her
better. She had left Dallas that morning without seeing or talking to Alex. Had
her evening in Alex's bed meant anything more than that they had missed one another?
Her thoughts were interrupted by Jess's voice.

"There
are two salads in the refrigerator and potatoes in the oven. Would you mind
getting those out while I finish these up?" Jess asked.

"Anything
else I can get ready?" Harriett asked as she stood up.

"You
should find whatever you want for the potatoes in the fridge, and since I
didn't know what kind of dressing you liked, I got one of just about
everything," Jess chuckled.

By
the time Harriett had everything else ready and on the table, Jess opened the
French doors from the patio and carried the steaks inside and set them on two
plates on the kitchen island.

"Well,
these look perfect to me," she proclaimed as she cut into the steaks and
smiled at Harriett.

After
dinner, filled with interesting, but light conversation, Jess and Harriett sat
on the couch in the living room, drinking coffee. "I might not have to eat
again for a week," Harriett said. "That was a fabulous meal, Jess.
Thank you."

"It
was my pleasure. I love to cook, and steak happens to be my specialty."

"Well,
you can prepare them for me anytime," Harriett sighed contentedly.

"I'll
remember that," Jess smiled over her coffee cup.

Looking
at Jess, Harriett said, "Tell my about Renee. She was very beautiful."

Jess
swallowed and set her cup down, glancing at the picture on the mantle.
"Yes, she was. Don't know exactly what to tell you about her. She was a
teacher at a local high school, and she loved her job and her students."

"And
I'm sure they loved her, too."

"Half
the kids at her school came to her funeral. It was amazing," Jess smiled
slightly. "I should be so lucky when I die."

"How
did you meet? If you don't mind me asking."

"I
pulled her over for speeding and issued her a ticket," Jess chuckled.
"Best ticket I ever wrote."

"You
said she was killed in an accident," Harriett said softly.

"Actually
it wasn't an accident. I just call it that. It was murder."

In
answer to the look on Harriett's face Jess leaned back on the couch and
continued. "Drunk driver. Son of a bitch was stopped by the police three
or four hours later and still had a blood alcohol level of two point four. He
was so blitzed that he didn't even know he had run her off the road and killed
her. Got a minimal sentence for vehicular manslaughter even though he already
had two or three DUIs on his record. That really pissed me off."

"I'm
so sorry, Jess," Harriett said. "I can't imagine how much it must
hurt."

"Renee
and I bought this house together," Jess said with a slight smile.
"When she found it, she was so excited. It was a dump. I was surprised the
city hadn't declared it unsafe for human habitation, but I wound up signing my
name on the bottom line anyway. It took us four or five years to get it close
to what we wanted. When she di...was killed, the insurance paid it off. That's
why it's hard for me to part with it. It sounds stupid, but somehow it still
lets me feel connected to her."

Running
her hand down Jess's arm, Harriett caught her eye as Jess turned toward her.
"It's not stupid, Jess. You loved Renee very much, and the home you made
together is beautiful. May I see the rest of it?"

"Sure,"
Jess shrugged. Standing, she took Harriett's hand and began the tour.

Each
room in the expansive home had been decorated to reflect the personality of its
inhabitants. The downstairs included the living room, a large combination den
and game room complete with pool table and jukebox, a guest room, bathroom,
kitchen, and laundry room. Jess stopped midway down the first floor hallway and
flipped a switch inside the last downstairs room.

"This
is where I spend most of my time," she said glancing into the room.
"It's not completely picked up, but not too bad for me. My office."

The
walls of the room were covered with trophies, plaques, and pictures. As
Harriett made her way around the room, she read the inscriptions on the
trophies and smiled at the pictures. Obviously, Jess had been a basketball
player in her high school and college years, and if the trophies and plaques
were any indication, Harriett assumed that she had been a very good player.

"A
jock, huh?" she laughed over her shoulder.

"Only
in my younger and wilder days," Jess chuckled. "But I had a good
time."

Harriett
followed Jess back into the living room. "What's upstairs?"

"The
master suite," she answered. "Basically just an oversized bedroom,
sitting room, and master bath."

"I've
never seen a bedroom that took up an entire floor before," Harriett said.

Pressing
a switch at the bottom of the stairs, theater style lighting illuminated each
step as Harriett followed Jess up the stairs and into the largest bedroom she
had ever seen. Plush burgundy carpeting covered the floor, which held a minimal
amount of furniture. The far wall of the room was floor to ceiling windows with
French doors opening onto a second story deck. Moonlight filtered through a
skylight over the king size bed.

"Oh,
my God!" Harriett breathed. "There's so much space."

"The
problem with most people is that when they find themselves with extra living space,
they feel an irresistible urge to fill it up with something. I've always
preferred simple over extravagant." Jess turned a dial near the entrance
to the room and brought the lighting up for a better view of the expansive
room. "Just the way I was raised, I guess."

"This
is incredible, Jess. Really."

"Thanks,"
Jess smiled. "The bath has a garden tub with a Jacuzzi that is very
relaxing after a tough day."

Harriett
wandered around the room and master bath and couldn't get over how impressive
it was. Standing next to the bed, she ran her hand over the wood on the
headboard.

"This
is lovely. What kind of wood is this?" she asked as she ran her hand over
the smooth surface.

"Birdseye
maple," Jess said, shoving her hands into her pockets. "I saw some a
couple of years ago and fell in love with its uniqueness. Found a retired
furniture maker and had him construct this bed out of it for me." Seeing
the look on Harriett's face, Jess answered her unasked question. "This
isn't the bed Renee and I shared. I couldn't stand having it here. Too many
memories," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "I'm sorry."

Harriett
reached out and squeezed her arm gently. "I didn't mean to bring back bad
memories, Jess," she said softly.

"It's
okay. Talking about the bad times allows us to cope with problems and makes it
easier to talk about good memories. If I don't talk about it, I'll never be
able to get on with my life."

"Now
you sound like my psychologist," Harriett said.

"Well,
to tell you the truth, Harriett, Helen Mortenson was my psychologist for a
while after Renee died. That's how I got your unlisted number," Jess
grinned.

"That
witch!" Harriett laughed. "Isn't that a breach of confidentiality or
something?"

"How
about another cup of coffee and some dessert?" Jess offered.

"And
maybe more good conversation," Harriett said as she took Jess's hand and
moved toward the stairs.

AN
HOUR LATER Jess had been bombarded with questions about her past and her work
until she finally threw up her hands. "Are you this relentless when you
question witnesses in court?"

"Sorry,
occupational hazard," Harriett smiled.

"Now
that you know everything about me except maybe my shoe size, tell me about
Harriett Markham. And I should tell you that I'm a trained interrogator,
too."

Leaning
back against the sofa, Harriett sighed, "Pretty boring story."

Jess
rested her arm along the back of the sofa and looked at Harriett. "You
know pretty much all there is to know about Renee. Anyone significant in your
past?"

"That's
a little complicated," Harriett answered, clearing her throat.

"How
so?"

"There
was someone a long time ago. She was a senior partner in the law firm I worked
for in Dallas. It was intense, and I know now, a mistake."

"Did
you love her?"

Harriett
looked into Jess's eyes. "Very much."

"And..."
Jess coaxed.

"I
was involved in an extremely difficult case, which resulted in my leaving the
firm and moving to Austin."

"And
she just let you go?"

"She
already had a partner, which I guess made me the 'other woman.' So it was for
the best."

"But
you don't regret it," Jess stated.

Harriett
smiled slightly. "No, I don't regret it."

"Do
you still love her?"

"I'll
always love her, but I'm no longer in love with her. She was an important part
of my life once." Harriett couldn't bring herself to divulge the temporary
rekindling of her affair with Alex. Maybe someday, but not that night.

Jess
glanced at the mantle clock and sat up. "Damn, it's after one. Your niece
is probably wondering where you are."

"I'm
fine, and Lacey doesn't wait up for me when I go out for the evening."

"You
said it had been a stressful week," Jess said as she got up and carried
their coffee cups to the kitchen. "I just thought you might be getting
tired."

Harriett
followed Jess into the kitchen and helped her rinse and load their dinner
dishes into the dishwasher. For a few minutes there was an awkward silence
between them. Being with Harriett had made Jess realize how much she hated
being alone and how much she missed Renee.

"I
really enjoyed dinner tonight, Jess," Harriett said. "The food was
delicious, and the conversation was wonderful."

"I'm
glad. It's been a while since I've had anyone over for dinner," Jess said
quietly. In fact, it's been more than a while since I've been with anyone I'd
want to get to know better, she thought as she glanced at Harriett. "We'll
have to do it again sometime."

"I'd
like that," Harriett smiled warmly. She had been pleasantly surprised at
how comfortable being with Jess was. There was a quiet shyness about her that
she found intriguing.

"Would
you like to go to the club tomorrow night? Maybe have dinner someplace before
we trip the light fantastic?" Jess offered.

"So
I can spend my evening fighting off other women who want to dance with
you?" Harriett teased. "Your services seemed to be in great demand
the last time you were at the club."

Stepping
closer to her, Jess smiled, "I promise to turn down my legions of admirers
and save every dance for you."

"Well,
who could possibly turn down an offer like that?" Harriett laughed.

Chapter
Twenty-Six

"I
COULD LOSE my job if they catch you in here, Wayne."

"Look,
Kelsey. I know the prosecution or Riley or both have more than they're telling
us. And I know you're the techie who ran the tests on the fuckin' rifle. Were
the bullets a match or not?" Wayne pressed. Howard Kelsey was the best
ballistics technician in north Texas, but he was also your basic Harvey
Milquetoast. He couldn't be bribed, but he sure as hell could be intimidated.

"All
six that I examined were from the same lot the police found at the defendant's
home. The firing pin marking on the shells were consistent with that model
Browning and the lands and grooves matched as well. The bullets were all
lubricated, which means..."

"Yeah,
yeah, I know what it means. They travel faster out of the barrel. So
what?"

"Well,
why would anyone need a bullet that travels faster if it's gonna run into a
target moving toward it at sixty or so miles per. Just seems like an unusual
choice. If they hadn't been such specialized bullets, there's no way they could
have been traced to your client. Pretty stupid, if you ask me."