Redress of Grievances (30 page)

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Authors: Brenda Adcock

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Legal, #Mystery & Detective

BOOK: Redress of Grievances
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"We're
still looking for a few witnesses, but hopefully we'll be ready by the time the
trial begins."

"You
will be. Well, I'll let you get back to work. I...uh...I just wanted to hear
your voice," Jess admitted softly.

"Ah,
was that you breathing on the phone last night?" Harriett smiled.

"Don't
give me any more ideas than I already have," Jess laughed.

Chapter
Thirty

HE
SCANNED THE living room slowly. There was no need to hurry. He had watched them
both leave for the day less than an hour before. Maybe he would even stay for
lunch.

Moving
into an office off the living room, he sat in Harriett's chair, closed his
eyes, and leaned back. The air outside the gate had smelled better than the air
inside, and the only thing separating one from the other had been a chain link
fence. He hadn't taken anything with him other than a small suitcase. You don't
accumulate much in eleven years when you can't go anywhere. Eleven fucking
wasted years! He hadn't planned on being stuck that long, but it had given him
plenty of time to plan everything down to the smallest detail, and just
thinking about it aroused him. He wondered what she would say when she saw him
again. It had been a long time. Casually, he opened the desk drawers and sifted
through paperwork.

Half
an hour later he went upstairs. Harriett's bedroom looked homey and smelled the
way he remembered her smelling. Not looking for anything in particular, he
wandered into the adjoining bathroom to search the medicine cabinet. It was
remarkably free of prescription medication, containing only a few over the
counter cold medicines.

He
took his jacket off and tossed it on the bed before he went to the dresser and
pulled a drawer out. Sitting down on the bed, he placed the drawer in front of
him and examined its contents. The clothing in the drawer felt cool as he
touched it, and he closed his eyes to imagine how it would feel if Harriett was
wearing it. Holding up a slip, he let it slide over his arm slowly and smiled
to himself.

He
neatly refolded and stacked the lingerie on the bed as he took each piece out
and examined it. As he replaced the last drawer, he opened a jewelry box on top
of the dresser and looked at an assortment of necklaces and earrings, leaving
them as he found them.

The
second bedroom was much more interesting, but then a teenager's room was always
a voyage of discovery. Pictures and old corsages hung from a corkboard near the
four-poster bed. He didn't know this smell. He picked up a pillow from the bed
and pressed it to his face. No, he didn't know this smell, but he would soon
enough, and not from a pillow. It was fresh and clean. He was going to like
that.

He
had seen the girl the day before. Just another anonymous stranger watching from
the bleachers. She had been wearing sweats as she stretched the muscles along
the backs of her legs while she talked to her team members. Someone must have
said something funny because she tossed her hair away from her face and
laughed. She was tall and that was good for track - among other things. A
whistle blew and Lacey began stripping out of the sweat suit. The girls ran
warm-up laps, and he moved his binoculars to observe the movement of their
breasts as they rose and fell in rhythm to the running. It was going to be so
easy. He would have liked more of a challenge, but he would have to make the
best out of it. In the end, it wouldn't matter anyway. Jesus! She had long
legs. The thought of them encircling his body had given him a hard-on. She
would be worth the eleven years he had been waiting.

The
contents of the teen's drawers revealed someone who hadn't yet achieved the
maturity and sexuality of a woman. Some of the lingerie showed that the owner
of the clothing was approaching the dividing line between girl and woman. Women
knew more and played more games. That was why young girls were so appealing.
They were open, submissive, and eager to experience the meaning of womanhood,
trying to prove they were worldly-wise even though they didn't have a clue. And
he would be willing to teach this one. Soon.

On
the dresser was an assortment of pictures. Grandparents. Friends. The girl
smiled perpetually in several of the pictures with her family and friends. A
small heart shaped frame showed the girl with a boy about her age leaning
against a tree. The boy had his arms around her waist, and they looked happy.
He could almost feel his arms around her and knew it wouldn't be long before
she would enjoy how it felt to be touched by a man instead of a boy. He slipped
the frame into his jacket pocket and left the room.

A
few days earlier he had watched as Harriett descended the steps of the Austin
detention center. He had been tempted to approach her, but the time hadn't been
right...yet. Patience. What was that old saying? All good things come to he who
waits. It had been this long. A few more days wouldn't matter one way or the
other. He couldn't wait to see the look on her face. It had always been the
look on their faces. The fear, then the terror. Which would terrorize Harriett
more? Her own safety or the safety of her niece? He had been within a few feet
of Harriett, and she never knew he was there. He liked his invisibility. She
was older but still in good shape. He smiled to himself as he contemplated the
decision of which one to visit first. It didn't really matter since they would
both be dead afterward anyway.

Chapter
Thirty-One

LATE
TUESDAY AFTERNOON Harriett was at her desk, going over a brief she had been
neglecting when Phyllis buzzed her over the intercom.

"Yes,
Phyllis," Harriett answered.

"Ms.
Dunne is here to see you, Ms. Markham," Phyllis announced.

"Send
her in."

Alex
smiled when she entered Harriett's office.

"What
are you doing here, Alex?" Harriett asked.

"We
hadn't heard from you in a while, and I thought I'd come down to see how the
case was going," Alex said as she approached the desk.

"It's
out of Winston and Dunne's hands at this point. Would you like some
coffee?"

"No,
thanks. I thought I might persuade you to have dinner with me."

"I
can't, Alex."

Alex
walked behind Harriett's desk and kissed her on the cheek.

"Having
problems with the case?"

"You
know how the insanity defense is. It's a crap shoot at best."

"You
can't spend all of your time working on the case, or it'll drive you
crazy," Alex said with a smile.

Harriett
looked at Alex and then lowered her head.

"I
was going to call you tomorrow, Alex," she said, ignoring the hand that
was traveling across her tense shoulders.

"Then
I've saved you the cost of a phone call."

Coughing
slightly, Harriett said, "I need some information. For the case."

"You
know I'll help if I can."

"I
need to know the exact date you slept with Sharon Taggart," she said
without looking at Alex.

"What?"
Alex laughed. "Where did you get that?"

"Sharon
said....well, I won't tell you exactly what she said, but she said you and she
had been lovers."

"She's
lying, Harriett. I know her, but there was never anything between Sharon
Taggart and me."

"I
don't care whether it was serious or casual sex, Alex," Harriett said
forcefully. "But I need to know the damn date."

"You
must believe her then."

"Sharon
was quite detailed about it, including a reference to your labrys tattoo. If
memory serves me right, there aren't many ways just anyone could see that. I
might have to call you as a witness."

"There
isn't anything I could offer in the way of testimony that would help your
case," Alex said, stepping away.

"State
of mind would be very helpful. I have to know whether or not you slept with the
woman, Alex. And I don't really give a damn about your motives."

"Just
preparing the best defense for your client?" Alex asked with a hint of
sarcasm in her voice.

"That's
right."

"It
was just one of those things." Alex shrugged as she moved away from
Harriett and sat down. "I never intended for it to happen."

Harriett
smiled, "Talk about deja vu."

"It
wasn't the same thing, damn it."

"Was
it your idea?"

"Of
course not. She approached me."

"How
was she?"

"You
don't need to know that," Alex snapped.

"Was
her behavior unusual?"

"She
was extremely aggressive."

"Was
that the only time?"

"No.
The last time we were together I told her it was a mistake. It shouldn't have
happened. It couldn't happen again. Ever."

"How
did she react to that?"

"She
didn't. She just smiled and got dressed and left without saying another
word."

Harriett
sat down at her desk and flipped her calendar back.

"And
when did you break off your liaison with her?"

"After
Thanksgiving last year. The affair started two or three months after Gwen and I
called it quits, and as much as I hate to admit it, I was flattered by the
attentions of an attractive young woman. I think the last time we were together
was the Friday or Saturday after Thanksgiving, but I honestly don't
remember."

Harriett
looked at the calendar and then picked up her legal pad, glancing through her
notes.

"Saturday,
December first," she said. "Number three died that night."

"What
the hell are you saying?" Alex demanded. "That the woman killed
someone because I had sex with her?"

"No.
Because you rejected her. It was the only date I couldn't tie to some
event."

"It
didn't mean anything, Harriett," Alex said quietly.

"Will
you testify about what you just told me, or will I have to subpoena you?"
Harriett asked.

"You
won't need to do that," Alex said with a frown.

"I
probably shouldn't be telling you this, Alex, but some very unsavory testimony
is going to come out during this trial. A lot of people are going to be
hurt."

There
was a hint of irony in Alex's voice as she said, "I knew you were a great
attorney, Harriett. But I'm beginning to wish I'd never referred this case to
you."

"So
am I. I've already found out more than I ever wanted to know."

IT
WAS NEARLY dark when Harriett pulled her glasses off and rubbed her eyes.
Standing up, she stretched the kinks out of her back. I could really use a good
massage, she thought as she picked up a stack of folders and slipped them into
her briefcase. The Taggart case was consuming almost all of her time, and Nick
had to pick up most of her overflow. Nothing had ever disrupted her from her
usual routine so much, and she wished she had never taken the case. Her
thoughts were disrupted by the sound of loud voices moving down the hallway
toward her office. She was halfway around her desk when her office door burst
open and she saw Parker Collins walking toward her, followed by an obviously
distraught Phyllis.

"Can
I help you, Senator?" she asked as calmly as possible, wondering if Nick
was still in his office.

"What
the fuck do you think you're doing?" Collins said loudly.

"If
I knew what you were talking about I could answer your question, but..."
she began.

"I
received a phone call from an old friend who said he had been interviewed by
your investigator."

"That's
probably correct. Mr. Graham is doing some background research for Sharon's
case."

Phyllis
was hovering near the office door uncertain what she should do, although
bringing coffee seemed out of the question considering the circumstances.
Looking around Collins, Harriett cast a reassuring smile at her secretary.

"You
can return to your desk, Phyllis. Thank you," she said. "I need to
speak with Senator Collins privately. Please tell Mr. Lazslo that I need to see
him before he leaves, though."

From
the look on Phyllis's face Harriett knew that Nick was already gone, but hoped
the idea that someone else might be there would prevent Collins from doing
anything rash. Judging from the fire in Collins's eyes, she hoped she was
right.

"Please
have a seat, Senator," she offered.

Collins
glared at her and sat down, crossing his legs as they waited for Phyllis to
leave and close the office door behind her. As soon as the door clicked shut,
he was on his feet again with both hands pressed flat on Harriett's desk.

"Background
my ass," he seethed. "I don't know what the hell my sister has told
you, but it does not involve my friends."

"Actually,
Senator," Harriett said as she sat behind her desk again, "it does.
Surely, you understand that I have to verify everything my client tells me no
matter where it leads. She's made some fairly serious accusations, some of
which, if true, might exonerate her, which is what you hired me to do."

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