"What about the others?"
Jan studied the list and tapped the pad with her finger.
"I don't know the exact dates, but one of these was about the time Sharon put her dog to sleep. She already had the mutt when she met Frank, but he hated it. And when Laurel was about six months old, she got hurt pretty bad. Might have been the third date."
"How was Laurel hurt?"
"Sharon left the kid alone while she was cleaning up the kitchen. The kid decided to try walking and fell. Hit her head on a table or something, knocked out a tooth, and bled like a stuck pig. Sharon was nearly hysterical, but got the baby to the doctor right away."
"Was there any permanent damage?"
Jan laughed, "Hell, they crammed that tooth back in the socket, and the damn thing stayed there until it fell out on its own a year or so later."
"She was lucky."
"Not after Frank found out. Sharon felt bad because she wasn't careful enough. She was eaten up with guilt, and then that shithead Frank wouldn't even let her hold Laurel or feed her. Accused Sharon of trying to kill the kid. Said she was too stupid to live. Ugly scene."
"What was Sharon's reaction to what Frank did?"
"She went away for a while."
"What did you do, Jan?"
Without looking up, Jan said, "You know what I did, Harriett. Is that what these dates are?"
"Yes."
Jan lit another cigarette and resumed looking at the list. "Now this last date I know. It's recent. That's the night Frank raped me after they had a fight. I don't remember anything special for this other one though."
"You know, Sharon seemed to have you pretty much under control until Laurel was born."
"Things weren't too bad until then. She really got down on herself after the kid was born, and that's about the same time Frank decided to turn into a shithead. Have you told her about me yet?"
"No, but I'll have to soon, so she'll understand what's happening."
Chapter Twenty-Nine
SEAN LASSITER AND his assistant were already seated at the prosecutor's table when Harriett and Nick entered the courtroom. Harriett didn't acknowledge his presence as she took her seat and opened her briefcase to remove copies of her motion. A few minutes later, the door behind the judge's bench opened and Judge Howard Landers took the two steps up to his chair as Harriett and Nick rose, followed by Lassiter and his assistant.
"Be seated," Landers said, adjusting his glasses. "I understand you have a motion to present to the court, Ms. Markham."
"Yes, your Honor," Harriett said as she stood. "If it pleases the court, I'm filing a motion to amend my client's plea from Not Guilty to Not Guilty by Reason of Mental Disease or Defect."
Moving to the prosecutor's table, she tossed a copy of her motion in front of the prosecutor. He began looking over the paperwork as Harriett presented a copy to Landers.
"You understand, Ms. Markham, that by choosing an affirmative defense you are taking the burden of proof from the prosecution and placing it on your own shoulders?" Landers asked, flipping through the motion.
"I understand my burden as well as the possible consequences of my actions. My client has been apprised of the ramifications of the change in her plea, and you will find an affidavit signed by her to that effect attached to the motion."
"Mr. Lassiter," Landers said. "Do you have an objection to the change in plea?"
Rising, Lassiter said, "I've only now received a copy of the motion, your Honor. May I be granted a few minutes to look over it?"
"Take five," Landers said as he leaned back in his chair and waited.
Landers looked at his watch and said, "Response, Mr. Lassiter."
"The State has no objection to the change in the plea, your Honor."
"I should think not," Landers said. "Motion to change the defendant's plea to not guilty by reason of mental defect is granted. I will order an independent psychiatric evaluation of the defendant," Landers said flipping through a calendar in front of him. "Hoping everything goes smoothly, I'm going to schedule jury selection in State v. Taggart for April twenty-ninth and a trial date for May sixth. Last day for motions will be three days prior to the beginning of the trial. Satisfactory?"
"Satisfactory with the defense, your Honor," Harriett said.
"Satisfactory with the prosecution, your Honor," Lassiter said.
As Landers left the bench, Nick said, "You got the best judge for this case."
"Yeah, and now I'm going to need the best jury, too."
WAYNE CALLED HARRIETT'S office early that afternoon. "Well, there's good news and bad news. Want it in any special order?" he asked.
"At this point it probably doesn't matter," she said, leaning back in her chair.
"Okay, I got the names you wanted, but Parker Collins was a popular guy. Practically hung out with every jock in North America."
"You can narrow it down to the football team and eliminate any girls."
"Okay, but they're spread out to hell and back."
"Keep up with your frequent flyer miles, and you can take a vacation when this is over."
"What am I looking for, Harriett?"
"You're looking for a guy who's willing to admit that he had sex with a ten-year- old girl and continued to do so for about two years. Or a guy who will admit to sodomizing a six-year-old and then progressed to more serious sex with her. The only name I could get from Sharon was Jerry somebody."
"Jesus, Harriett! Who's gonna admit to some shit like that? Guy'd have to be a pervert."
"Then find me a pervert with a conscience, Wayne. Two would be even better."
"Two pervs. I'll put that on my wish list. Makes my bad news sound good."
"What's your bad news?"
"Stevenson will arrive there tomorrow."
"Oh, well, it's not a perfect world. I've got Nick looking into it. I have a couple of other things for you to check," Harriett said.
"Hell, I haven't finished this list yet, kiddo."
"I don't think this will take long. First, go back to Sharon's friend and ask her what mental health clinic Sharon went to. If she signed in, I need a copy of it. Second, find out the name of the doctor for Collins Industries fifteen or sixteen years ago and whether he was associated with, or owned, a nursing home. If he's still alive, talk to him to see if he admitted Sharon there as a patient during the summer of 1984 or 1985. If he won't cooperate, let me know, and I'll have his records subpoenaed. Third,..."
"Wait a sec. I ain't a fuckin' stenographer," Wayne growled. "Okay, go ahead."
"Third, find out whom the Taggart's veterinarian is and get the date Sharon had her dog put down. It would have been within the last two years. Fourth, find out who treated Laurel Taggart for an injury she received when she was about six months old. I want the actual date of the injury. Get all that?"
"Yeah. Which of these is the most urgent?"
"The perverts. I don't care or want to know how you get them to talk, Wayne. Promise them anonymity. The statute of limitations on that expired years ago, and my client isn't interested in pressing charges. I have to have them. I need everything as soon as possible. Judge Landers has set jury selection for April twenty-ninth. I want a report every day from now until the trial, Wayne. Fax me any paperwork you get and call with anything else."
"Will do and you try to take it easy, kiddo. Got me?"
"Gotcha," Harriett smiled.
HARRIETT HAD JUST leaned back and begun reading over the papers in front of her when she was interrupted by the intercom. "You have a call on line two, Ms. Markham."
Lifting the receiver while still trying to read, Harriett said, "This is Harriett Markham."
"Having a good day, counselor?" a welcoming voice asked.
"I am now." She smiled as she combed her hair back with her fingers. "How are you, Jess?"
"I'm good. How is Lacey today?"
"Better, but Corey's death really shook her up. They're planning a memorial at school in a couple of days."
/> "And your case, how's that going?"
"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 c
ourse 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.
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