“The offer Tarkington made… I’d like to see her get more but…” She paused. “She’s decided to take it. She doesn’t want to press charges.”
Windfield snapped forward in his chair and slapped his palms on the desk.
Megan jumped.
“She wants to drop the charges?” His face turned bright red. “You’re kidding me?”
Megan was taken aback. She had never seen him mad like this. She shook her head. “We’ve given this a lot of thought and consideration and...”
He cut her off. “You have given this a lot of thought?” Windfield shot up out of his chair.
“Listen, Steve,” Megan raised her own voice.
“No, you listen to me.” Windfield started pacing behind his desk. He whirled around and looked at her. “You see all those people out there?” He stabbed his finger toward the lobby. “They’re all here wanting us to do something. File charges. Help them. Most of them we can’t help. But I decided to try to do something for Lucy. We can help her. And you’re telling me she’s backing down?” He stopped.
Megan could see a vein protruding at his temple. His fists were clenched by his side. She knew the prosecutor’s office didn’t like people who wanted to bring charges and then backed out, but this response was more than she could have anticipated.
“It’s about Lucy and what’s best for her and Lauren,” Megan managed to say.
“Lucy was raped,” Windfield yelled. “What don’t you get about that?” His eyes bore through her. “She has a case. A case that could help her and help other women come forward.”
“Steve, it’s her decision,” Megan said exasperated. “She’s not going to press charges. She’s not happy about it but she can’t.” Megan shrugged. “And you know as well as I do that it’s hard to win these cases and the trials are brutal for the victim. I don’t know what else to say. This settlement is what she wants. I’m sorry but that’s where we’re at.” She gathered her briefcase, stood up, and started heading for the door.
“You forget, Megan,” Windfield said in a clear low voice behind her. “It’s not up to the victim to press charges. The prosecutor has the power. “
Megan turned and looked at him. “Without a victim you don’t have a case.” She started to open the door.
“I have a victim, Megan, and her name is Lucy Hatfield. I’m not going to drop the charges. In case you forget, I have a sworn statement in writing, signed by her, saying he raped her, along with a detailed video of her describing what happened. Both were done under oath and under the penalties of perjury. I can prosecute her for false reporting and perjury if she refuses to go to court.”
Megan said nothing. She gathered her briefcase and left. She knew what he was saying was true. He could force Lucy to go forward—and it was pretty clear that he was going to do that.
In the elevator Megan closed her eyes and rested the back of her head against the cold silver wall.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Here it is,” Lucy said, laying the manila file down in front of Megan. “All copies are signed.” She sat down on Megan’s couch.
Megan felt her stomach tighten. She looked at the envelope lying on the coffee table.
“I’m glad you called about it,” Lucy said. “I’ve had it ready for a few days but have been so busy with Lauren I lost track of time. We’re still within the week time frame Tarkington’s lawyer gave us to respond, aren’t we?”
Megan nodded. They had a couple of days to go before the deadline. Lucy called her this morning and said she was dropping off the agreement today at one. Megan hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell Lucy what had happened at her meeting with the prosecutor. It wasn’t like her to stick her head in the sand but in this case she just couldn’t face Lucy’s reaction when she found out. So she’d said nothing and just kept hoping Windfield would change his mind or the whole thing would otherwise somehow magically go away. Windfield hadn’t changed his mind, the whole thing hadn’t just gone away, and now she had no choice but to tell Lucy charges against Tarkington would be filed soon.
Megan picked up her mug of coffee and took a sip.
“When will all this be finalized?” Lucy asked. Megan glanced at her and looked across the room. “Getting this over with will be a huge relief,” Lucy went on cheerfully. “Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
Megan let out a small sigh. “Lucy,” she said.
Lucy’s phone started ringing. “Sorry.” She looked at the number on the screen. “It’s Lauren’s specialist.”
Megan nodded. “Go ahead. No problem.”
Lucy got up and walked into the other room. Megan could hear her quietly talking to the doctor’s office.
“Okay, now, where were we?” Lucy said, coming back into the room.
Megan shifted in the chair. “I want to talk to you about something.”
Megan saw concern wash over Lucy’s face. Slowly, Lucy lowered herself down into a chair.
“ I thought we needed to let the prosecutor know that we had a deal with Tarkington and you didn’t want to press charges—before you signed the agreement and we gave it to Mattingly.”
“I bet he’s happy he has one less case to mess with.” Lucy crossed her legs and leaned back.
“Well, we have a problem.” Megan picked up the file from the table.
Lucy’s smile disappeared. “What?”
Megan cleared her throat. Where to begin and how to tell her. This was one of the areas in the practice of law she hated—telling a client bad news.
“He didn’t take it well,” she said her words fast and clipped.
Lucy cocked her head. “He didn’t take it well?” Megan could see she didn’t understand.
“No, he took it pretty badly, as a matter of fact.”
Lucy laughed. “I can’t believe that. “ She shook her head. “I guess he’ll have to die mad or get over it.”
“I wish it were that easy.” Megan tapped the edge of the file folder on the table. “Windfield doesn’t want to drop the charges.”
Lucy sat up. “They aren’t even filed.”
“Well no, but they’re ready to be.” Megan felt her stomach tighten.
“Then he can just not file them,” Lucy said disdainfully.
“To make a long story short”—Megan paused—”Windfield will not let the charges go. He plans to file them. And soon.”
Lucy shot up off the couch. “What do you mean? He can’t file charges if I don’t want him to.” She circled the coffee table and stood in front of Megan. “I’m not pursuing the criminal stuff. I can’t.” Her eyes were cold and her jaw was tight. “It’s not happening,” she said. Pure panic had set in. She looked like a deer in the headlights.
“Lucy, sit down.” Megan motioned to the chair beside her.
Lucy flopped down in the chair and turned and looked at her.
“Windfield will not let the charges go. He’s filing.” Megan kept her voice calm and even.
“Well, good luck to him,” Lucy said with sarcasm. “He can’t file them without a witness and I am the witness.” She smiled as if she had scored a big point.
Megan shook her head. “The prosecutor has the last say, Lucy. You must’ve learned that in law school.” She sighed and laid the folder down on the table. “I never thought this would happen when we filed the paperwork. I’m not sure what’s gotten into Windfield, but I don’t think he’s going to bend on this. He says he has an affidavit you gave under the penalties of perjury as well as a video statement you gave under oath. That’s all he needs.” She paused and took a breath. Her heart was thumping so hard in her chest she felt like it would explode. “He says if you try and back out he’ll prosecute you for false informing and perjury.” Megan could see that Lucy was teetering on the edge. Her hands were shaking and tears were welling in her eyes.
She pointed at Megan. “It’s not happening. I am not filing charges and he can’t make me. That asshole. He can’t do it. I’ll lose everything. I am not
going to trial! Do you understand that?” She stared at Megan. “You thought we should investigate filing charges against Tarkington. It was your idea and this is your fault. So now you fix it.”
“There’s nothing we can do.” Megan’s words were soft and slow. She looked at Lucy. “He can force you to press the charges. And it looks like he will.”
Lucy sat down on the couch, rested her head in her hands, and began to cry. Moving slowly, Megan went over and sat beside her. She reached out and touched Lucy on the shoulder. “Lucy, you can’t sign the agreement with Tarkington,” she said in a soothing voice. “If you do, we’ll have even more problems. I have no doubt that Tarkington and his lawyer would come after you for violating the agreement and who knows what else.”
Megan sat for several moments rubbing Lucy’s back. “We can’t do the agreement, Lucy. And we can’t stop a trial. Come on,” she said quietly. “You can do this for you and all the other women who have been assaulted and are afraid to come forward. Do it for Lauren, show her what a strong woman is.”
“I won’t even have a daughter by the time Tarkington and his attorney get done with me. Megan, I don’t think I can hold up. I have all this and Lauren’s illness too.” She rested her head on her folded arms. “It’s just too much.”
Megan took her by the shoulders. “Look at me.”
Lucy slowly lifted her head.
“We’ll get through this and it will be alright. I’ll be by your side every step of the way. I promise.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
At nine a.m., three days after Megan’s disastrous meeting with Lucy and exactly eight days after Mattingly had given her the settlement agreement, her phone rang. She groaned when she saw the caller ID. She had learned from years in the practice of law that when you don’t know what to do, you stall. She’d been employing that method in the last two days since she didn’t have a clue what to do. She didn’t want to tell Mattingly that Lucy couldn’t sign and have him unleash the dogs. Lucy didn’t need that. After much thought, she’d decided to do nothing and pray that somehow it all went away. Foolish as it might seem, sometimes the worst cases did just that. She’d hoped it would happen in this case.
It didn’t.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Mattingly said. “Another fun-filled week in the practice of law?” He laughed.
“Good morning,” Megan said, trying not to sound as sick as she felt hearing his voice.
“Thought I would check in with you and see when you’ll have the signed agreement back to me. I can send my assistant over to pick it up if that helps.”
Megan heard his chair creak.
“Sorry. It’s been really busy.” She paused. The line fell silent for several seconds. “Brockton, I talked to Lucy and I’ve also talked to the prosecutor, Steve Windfield.”
Silence.
“Lucy was prepared to sign and willing to. However.”
“However, what?” Mattingly said curtly.
Megan felt like a freight train was headed down the tracks straight toward her.
“The meeting with Windfield didn’t go well. He doesn’t want to…,”
Mattingly cut her off. “I know him. What’s the issue? What say does he think he has in this agreement? Such a prima donna. “ Mattingly laughed.
“He won’t drop the criminal charges.”
“Oh bullshit, Megan. They aren’t even filed yet. What’s there to drop?”
“At the start of all this Lucy and I met with Windfield and talked about filing criminal charges. He reviewed the case and interviewed Lucy. He feels that he has a case and he’s going to pursue it. He made that very clear.”
She could hear Mattingly clearing his throat. “Listen,” he said clearly, in a cold voice Megan had never heard him use this tone so far, even though he’d said some nasty threatening things. “The only thing he’s interested in is getting re-elected and the primary is next year. He wants a front page story on how great he is as a prosecutor. You need to make it clear to him that Tarkington isn’t the case that will keep him on the throne.”
Megan picked up a pen and tapped it on the desk. She could feel tension rising in her.
“I talked to him at length the other day. He’s not going to drop it. Period. Lucy is willing to sign the agreement but she can’t. She’s not the one causing the problem.”
“Lucy is the one causing the problem,” Mattingly said, his voice filled with anger. “She’s the one that started all this shit and she can stop it—and you can help her.”
Megan felt her jaw tighten and her head begin to ache. “You know how the prosecutor’s office works. They can bring charges even if the victim doesn’t want to. Lucy could be prosecuted for perjury and false reporting if she goes against him.”
“You know, Megan, you and your client need to get something real clear.” Mattingly paused. “We’re done playing games with both of you. The prosecutor and his threats are your problems. They aren’t ours. If I don’t have the signed agreement in my hands by four p.m. today, all gloves are off. Understand?”
Before Megan could say a word the line went dead.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Megan collapsed on the couch. She was exhausted. She had spent whole chunks of the day talking to Lucy on the phone trying to calm her down. After hours discussing the whole nightmare, Megan felt she had answered every question Lucy had about the criminal matter, why she had no choice but to go forward, and what their strategy should be now. When she wasn’t talking to Lucy she’d worried about the trial herself and had gone over and over in her mind what Mattingly had said: It was going to be ugly.
Now she just wanted to relax and zone out watching some mindless TV. Wrapped in her favorite robe and fuzzy socks she picked up the remote and turned on the TV. She clicked through an endless array of stations, spending a few moments on each trying to decide what, if anything was worth watching. Nothing was. Finally she gave up. “Oh well,” she muttered to herself. She looked at the clock on the wall. It was getting late.
She leaned back on the couch and pulled her robe tight. It was the second week of April. She had barely remembered to file a tax extension yesterday with all the tension around Lucy, Windfield, and Mattingly. The house felt chilly. She stared at the TV screen trying to keep her eyes open.
All of a sudden the screen changed. In big bold letters the words BREAKING NEWS appeared. She sat up and leaned forward. A newswoman with a microphone in her hand, wearing a jacket with the letters of the TV station emblazoned on the front, was standing outside the county jail. She was on point waiting for her cue to begin speaking. The studio anchor introduced her and said she was reporting on a major development. On cue, the woman started to speak.
“Thank you, John. Tonight one of DC’s most prominent young attorneys, the grandson of Supreme Court Justice Arthur Tarkington, was arrested on one count of rape and one count of criminal confinement. Craig Tarkington, age 32, was taken into custody this evening at around nine p.m. at his home. “
A mug shot of Craig Tarkington flashed on the screen.
“Oh my god.” Megan groaned.
“Craig Tarkington has been practicing at the family firm Tarkington, Wagner Kreig, and DeVoe, for nine months. The firm was founded by his grandfather, Supreme Court Justice Tarkington, in the early 1970s.”
The screen cut away from the reporter to show footage of the police taking Tarkington into custody. Tarkington had his head down and was handcuffed with his hands behind his back. A blitzkrieg of camera lights and flashes made it hard to see his face. Reporters were crawling everywhere, yelling questions and crowding in trying to get a sound bite. Megan watched as the police ushered him to the waiting police car and one of the officers pushed Tarkington’s head down, lowered him into the back seat, and slammed the door. A flood of reporters rushed up, yelling questions and taking photos and video. She could see Tarkington turn his head away from them.
This was the beginning of the nightmare that would become the trial—it was
suddenly a reality, not just a possibility—and she felt sick to her stomach, even a bit guilty because she had set this whole mess in motion by talking Lucy into filing the charges when Lucy had doubts about doing it. But some other part of her felt thrilled to see a rapist, a rich young man who ordinarily would get away with anything, held accountable.
The screen cut back to the reporter.
“The alleged victim in this matter is Lucy Hatfield, a fellow law student who was part of a bar exam study group Craig Tarkington was a member of. The probable cause affidavit states that Tarkington confined her and raped her in his apartment. Hatfield was studying with Tarkington for the D.C bar exam at the time of the alleged incident. Craig Tarkington is being taken to the county lockup. I understand his bond is high. He is expected to bond out. We’ll continue to keep you up to date on this as we learn more. Back to you.”
“Holy shit,” Megan said out loud. She grabbed the phone and dialed Lucy’s number. The phone rang and rang. Finally voicemail kicked in. Megan felt her chest tighten. She had to be sure Lucy knew before she was ambushed by the media.
She jumped up, rushed to her bedroom, threw on a sweatshirt and yoga pants, and ran to the front door while she was still trying to get her shoes on.
When she arrived at Lucy’s apartment building there was a sea of men and women holding microphones surrounding the entrance. Megan threaded her way through the wall of reporters, pushing people aside until she got to the front door. A big burly police officer was standing at the entrance. Megan heard him talking on his radio, calling for other officers to come and assist. The officer turned. “Megan, what are you doing here?”
She looked at him and felt hope surge through her. “George!” George McKinley had done security for a lot of the firm’s parties and community events and over the years he and Megan had become friends.
Victim of the Defense Page 6
