by Nancy Adams
“Nate Simmons,” I said.
There was silence on the line for a couple of seconds, and I started to wonder if I'd hit the wrong line, but then I heard, “I just want you to tell me how you could do this. Can you tell me that?”
My heart stopped. “Katelynn? Baby, I...”
“Don't call me that. I just want to hear from you how you could do this, can you just tell me that, please? How you could take all the feelings I had for you and throw them away like this?”
I knew I wasn't supposed to talk to her, but I couldn't hang up. “Katelynn,” I said, “I don't know why you believe this, but it is not true. I had nothing to do with Donna Bennet except to warn her not to continue stealing money. I did not make a pass at her, I did not have any kind of sexual relationship with her, and I did not touch her in any way.”
“Nate, I saw pictures. She had her son set up a hidden camera, and it took pictures, and I saw them. I saw you holding her, I saw you kissing her—I saw you laying in a bed with her! You can't tell me you didn't do it when there are pictures to prove it. And don't say they're faked, my father had them checked, and the lab said there's a ninety-nine percent chance they're real; it's not likely she could fake them that well, now, is it?”
“I don't know how they got faked, Katelynn, I only know they did, because I was never in any such situation with her. I'm going to prove this, Katelynn. I am not going to settle it out of court. I'm going to take it as far as necessary to prove that I didn’t do this, to prove it to you and to the rest of the world.”
She didn't say anything for a long moment. “I don't know what to think, Nate. I want to believe you, I want so badly to believe you, to believe that everything we had was not a lie, but it's just not possible. Those pictures are too powerful.”
She hung up, and I sat there holding the dead receiver. I wanted to call her back, beg her to believe me, but I couldn't. Instead, I called Lawton and told him about the call.
“This is good,” he said. “The fact that she called you means that she's looking for a reason to believe you're innocent on this. That means there's a chance she could turn against Bennet, and come back to your corner. You still can't initiate any contact with her, but if she calls back, just keep repeating that you're innocent.”
I snorted. “Of course I will, because I am!”
“I don't doubt you, Nate, let's get that clear right now. I believe you're being framed, and if you are, then we're going to do all we can to prove it. We just got the hard copy, and we're all going over it in a few minutes. If you want to come down and see it, come on.”
“I'll be right there,” I said, and was off the phone and out of my chair, on the way to the elevator.
When I got to Legal, I walked right into the conference room and found the whole staff there; all six lawyers, five paralegals, six secretaries and a couple more people I didn't know. Mike Davenport was there, too, from our security department.
Lawton made the introductions. The two I didn't know were Kate and John Tarsikes, a couple who were professional private investigators. They'd be looking into Donna's background, and trying to find any evidence to back up my claim of being framed.
Lawton took the floor. “The main file is pretty straightforward and common to these types of lawsuits. It details the accusations and the supporting statements of witnesses, and of course, it includes copies of the photographs that seem to implicate you. Yes,” he said when I started to speak, “I know you want to see those, and we'll get to that in a moment, but first I want to go over the statements.”
He ruffled through a stack of papers, and one of the paralegals handed me a set of them.
“Look at page three, that's the victim statement. It says, and I'm paraphrasing in the interests of time, that on such and such date, you approached Donna Marie Bennet, the alleged victim, and told her that someone had been stealing money from the store where she worked, and that you were prepared to accuse her of it, including falsifying computer records to implicate her in the thefts, unless she would agree to provide you with sexual favors. She says that, being afraid of the threat, she agreed, and that you returned later that night and required her to have sex with you, then returned on four other occasions and demanded additional sex, which she provided from fear of retribution. She further states that, after the third time, she had her son hide three cameras that were connected to his computer and programmed to take photographs every ten minutes, and that these cameras captured you in various compromising positions with her, which photos are attached as corroborating evidence.” He looked around the room. “Anyone have anything to add?”
There was no response, and he went on.
“Turn to page five, which is the witness statement. This says that on such and such date, Katelynn Burke, manager of the store, was approached by Donna Marie Bennet, who told her the foregoing story. She states that, at first, she denied the truth of the story, but became convinced of its veracity when she was told of specific times when you allegedly approached Ms. Bennet, which times coincided with times when she expected your presence and you were late. She states that she became further convinced upon seeing the aforementioned photographs, which seemed to her to be genuine and legitimate. Anything from anyone?”
Again there was no response.
“Alright, now let's look at the photographs in question There are a total of four of them, and they're numbered accordingly and dated as to the dates they were allegedly taken.”
A paralegal handed me a stack of four prints, the kind you get at a photo developer store. I looked at the top one, which appeared to show me standing behind Donna, with my left arm wrapped around her upper body. It appeared, though it wasn't clear, that my left hand might be holding her right breast. Lawton described the picture, and commented that my hand did not appear to be fully closed on her breast, as one might expect if I were actually trying to create sexual tension. I looked again, and saw that it did look as though my hand was open, like I was reaching to pick something up.
I was dizzy. I knew, knew, that I had never been in such a position with Donna, but this photograph almost made me believe it. I looked for any kind of flaws, like you see in movies where they put someone in a situation that they weren't really in, but I saw nothing. This was scary.
Photo number two was worse. It showed me with Donna facing me, and our lips apparently in contact in a kiss! Again, Lawton described it, and the only thing he said that made me feel any better was that he wondered if Donna seemed a bit taller in this one. Another lawyer pointed out that, as tall as I am, she would probably have been on her toes to kiss me like that, so her height wouldn't be accurate. Lawton wanted it checked, anyway, and the investigators and Mike made notes.
Photo number three showed me laying in a bed, and I appeared to be nude. A blanket was pulled up to my groin, and Donna seemed to be performing an act of oral sex on me. I got sick looking at it, but Lawton said he didn't think the position of her head looked right for the act she seemed to be performing, and two of the others agreed. I started to have a little bit of hope.
The last photo showed me also in bed, also apparently nude, though I was covered from the waist down with the same blanket. Donna was lying beside me, and her right hand seemed to be under the blanket, as if she were touching me sexually. No one could find anything about this one to comment on, which made me even sicker.
“Okay, that’s what we're up against, people. Who's got something constructive to say?”
Jan Peters, one of the lawyers, spoke up. “The thing that troubles me the most about this is that this is not the kind of woman who would appeal to a wealthy young bachelor. If Nate wanted to get laid, all he'd have to do is cruise any street in America, and he could find any number of willing and attractive young women to pick up for a simple one night stand. Why would he take the chance of ruining an employee, let alone his romantic relationship with the store's manager? Granted, it's conceivable that he might want to have sex with someone, but if his girl
friend isn't putting out, you'd expect him to keep any indiscretions far from where she might find out about it. Any cheating husband can tell you that messing around with co-workers who are also friends of your partner is a certain formula for exposure and disaster!”
“I agree,” said Lindsey Simpson, a paralegal. “All he has to do is walk through this building and you can hear a dozen women say they'd jump at the chance for a single night with him. I've said it myself,” she said, and then I think it dawned on her that I was sitting there. She looked at me sheepishly, and added, “But it was just a matter of going along with the flow, not anything serious.”
Any other time, I probably would have gotten a chuckle out of her discomfiture, but this was no laughing matter. I waved it off, and looked at Lawton.
“The ladies have hit on the crux of the matter, but unfortunately, juries are likely to believe the common idea that all men are lust-buckets who will go after any woman, and never consider the consequences of their actions. Even more unfortunately, the cases of men who act that way get all the attention, so that's what people accept as the norm. We'll use their arguments, but we need more than that. Anyone else?”
Bill Williams, another lawyer, said, “How about this? We know that the photos have to be faked, but technology has gotten to the point that it's not always possible to prove it. If we can find enough cases where it's been determined that photos considered genuine by experts turn out to be faked, we could argue for inadmissibility on the basis of unreliable evidence.”
“Doubtful we'd get anywhere with that,” Lawton said. “The most unreliable evidence of all is eyewitness testimony, but it's still the most widely used evidence there is. To get a court to rule photos inadmissible would mean setting precedent that could undermine a thousand recent convictions, and no court is going to risk that over a civil case. If he's indicted, we'll try it for sure, but at this point I don't think it has merit. Anything else?”
There were several other suggestions, and some of them made me think there might be hope. The investigators were going to fly out that evening to North Platte, and would be there for several days. Their goal was to find any dirt on Donna they could, and try to learn how she could get such realistic photos made.
Meanwhile, the lawyers would start grilling me, the way I would be grilled on the witness stand. Lawton scheduled my first session for the following morning, and I decided to go on home for the day.
Katelynn
Chapter Three
A Woman Scorned
* * * * *
Going to work each day was getting harder and harder, and I didn't know how much longer I could do it. A few days ago, I would have been up at the crack of dawn, or even before, ready to get to work and see the man if my dreams; now it was all I could do to get out of bed, and that same man was the last one I ever wanted to see again.
I was heartbroken, devastated; I'd met the one man I truly felt I could love with all of my heart, and he had betrayed me. Even worse, he had betrayed me with a woman I'd considered a friend, and who was much older and heavier than me. Was my petite figure not enough? Wasn't I experienced enough for him? Of course I wasn't, since I was still a virgin, and determined to stay that way until marriage.
He'd told me that he felt exactly the same, and I'd believed him, and it had all been nothing but lies. I don’t know what he was thinking, but he left me destroyed.
Donna had felt so bad when she came to tell me what was going on, and I had reacted badly on top of that. I'd accused her of lying, of being jealous of what I had with Nate, but then she'd shown me the pictures, and I felt my whole world crash down on me. He'd lied to me, he'd made a fool of me, and I'd been so blind that I sat there with a silly smile on my face and let him do it!
When I'd realized what was happening, I told Donna she couldn’t let him get away with it. You see all those stories on TV, about men with power who use it to force women to do such things, and they all showed the same thing; if they aren't stopped, they'll continue doing it to more and more women, and it's a vicious cycle that never ends. I took her to my own father, a lawyer, and when he understood what the situation was, he agreed to take her case.
Don't get me wrong, it wasn't easy for me to turn on him. I loved Nate, I truly did, but the Nate I was in love with wasn't the real person that he was. He was an act, a fiction; the real Nate as the kind of man who would take advantage of a defenseless woman, obviously, since that is exactly what he'd done.
My family and friends were all supportive, all there for me as I went through the heartaches and nightmares that came with it. I would wake up two or three times a night, each time thinking that I was waking out of a nightmare that he'd done this thing, but I was really waking up into one. Reality would set in, and I'd lay there and cry for an hour or more before I could get back to sleep.
Sooner or later, though, we all have to go on. I was up and dressed that Tuesday morning, and went out the door to go to work like always. My car knew the way, by then, and I don't even remember driving, but suddenly I was in the parking lot behind the store, so I got out of the car and went inside.
Everyone acted like I was so fragile, and I hated that. I may have a broken heart, but I was still the same person, and still the manager of the store; I didn't need a babysitter, or anyone to feel sorry for me, for goodness' sake. I just needed to go on with my life, and the way to do that was to ignore the pain and keep moving, keep working.
Corie was there already, and had the coffee on. I grabbed a cup as I went to my office, and she followed me in. She took the seat in front of my desk without a word, and just sat there. Sometimes a friend's most important job is just being there. Corie was good at that part of being a friend.
Sometimes, however. It takes more than that, and she always seemed to know when we reached that point, too. “Have you heard anything from him?” she asked me.
I shook my head. “Daddy says they'll tell him not to have any contact with me, because I'm on the opposite side. He can't call me or anything, even if he wanted to. Even if I wanted him to, which I don't.”
She looked at me of a moment without saying anything. “Do you think there is any possibility that he's innocent?”
I jerked, and met her eyes. “Corie! You saw those pictures! Did they look innocent to you? Did they look faked?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I don't know, KK. It just doesn't make any sense to me, why he'd go for her when he already had you.”
I lowered my eyes to the desk. “We know why; I wouldn't give him what he wanted, so he got it somewhere else.”
Corie leaned down so she could look me in the eyes. “You forget who you're talking to, KK. Maybe you want to stay a virgin til your wedding night, but you and I both know that if he really wanted it, you'd have given it up. You were in love with him, and you wanted him, too; if he'd really tried, you would have caved, and you know it, but even more importantly than that, he would have known it! If all he wanted was to relieve the pressure, he'd have put more pressure on you.”
“Not if he was trying to maintain his 'good boy' image,” I shot back.
“To who? To you? Putting the moves on you would only have proved to you even more that he loved you and wanted you; and he is a billionaire, for Pete’s sake! He could go get it anywhere, if he wanted it that badly, and if he only wanted it from you, he wouldn't have cared about his image, because he'd trust you not to tell anyone!”
I tried to refute her logic, but I just couldn't. Despite the fact that I'd seen the pictures, something about it still seemed too unbelievable to be anywhere near the truth. I told her to go on to work, and got busy on my dailies, trying to put it all out of my mind.
I made it through the morning, mostly by just doing the things I'd gotten so accustomed to doing every day. At lunch time, Corie convinced me to go with her to get some pizza, and we ate in my car. We didn't really talk much, but when we did, it was still on the same subject of whether there was any chance Nate wasn't guilty.
That wasn't a subject I cared to talk about, so I was pretty quiet.
After lunch, though, it began to get to me, and I found myself asking the same questions. How could he have done this? How could he have chosen her over me? None of it made any sense, but a part of me just had to ask. Before I even realized what I was doing, I had called up the main office number and dialed it.
A receptionist answered. “Nate's Stores, Incorporated, how may I help you today?”
“I'd like to speak with Nathanael Simmons, please. His extension is zero one one four.”
“One moment, please,” she said, and I was surprised that it was that easy to call the CEO of a major corporation. I guess knowing the extension was what got me through.
I heard ringing, and then another woman answered. “Mr. Simmons' office.”
“I'd like to speak to Nathanael Simmons, please.”
“And can I tell him who's calling?”
“No, but I can just about guarantee that if you don't put me through right now, he'll be so angry with you when he finds out that you'll be in the unemployment line, so put me through!”
There was a silence on the line for a second, and then she said, “One moment.”
And then I heard his voice. “Nate Simmons.”
I sat perfectly still for a moment, trying to figure out what I really wanted to say, but all that came out was, “I just want you to tell me how you could do this. Can you tell me that?”
I could hear his shock. “Katelynn? Baby, I...”
I flared. “Don't call me that! I just want to hear from you how you could do this, can you just tell me that, please? How you could take all the feelings I had for you and throw them away like this?”
He hesitated for just a moment. “Katelynn, I don't know why you believe this, but it is not true. I had nothing to do with Donna Bennet except to warn her not to continue stealing money. I did not make a pass at her, I did not have any kind of sexual relationship with her, and I did not touch her in any way.”
