Megan reached into her purse and took out a piece of paper and a pen. “What’s his name?”
Eric flipped open his notebook. “Edward Thompson.”
“Let’s look into Mr. Thompson.”
Megan looked up at the bright blue sky. It was a beautiful day in May, a perfect day for a walk in Rock Creek Park. She glanced down at her phone, it was two p.m. Eric should be here any moment, she thought as she sat down on a bench. Just as she was walking out the door, Eric had called and wanted to talk. She’d invited him to meet her here.
“Sorry I’m a little late,” Eric said, hurrying toward her. His face was red and he was short of breath. “I got held up on a phone call.”
Megan got up from the bench. “No problem. I just got here myself.”
Eric came up beside where she stood and they started down the main walking path. It snaked around the edge of the park and covered the most scenic areas.
“I wanted to get with you and tell you the update.” Eric reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a tin box of mints. “Want one?”
Megan reached over and took a mint. Eric popped one in his mouth and placed the small box back in his pocket.
“I’ve confirmed the address of Tarkington’s victim who lives in New Mexico, “Eric said. He was holding a small spiral-ringed notebook that he opened and scanned. “Alexis Steiner. 6278 Rose Court, Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. I confirmed she’s still employed at the school I found in my research and this address is where she lives. “
Megan nodded. “Have you spoken to her?”
“Not yet. I want to talk to you about something first.”
Megan picked up her pace and cast a glance in his direction. “About what?”
“I’ve been thinking about how to approach her.”
Megan looked at him. For several seconds he said nothing. “And…,” she prompted him.
“I wondered if you might go with me to see her.”
Megan said nothing. She kept walking and glanced down at her Fit Bit. She’d walked 1,229 steps so far today.
Eric stepped up his pace. “I wondered how she might respond to a guy showing up on her doorstep asking her about this nightmare she thought she had left behind. I’ve had other women who’ve been through traumatic events not want to talk to me. In the past I’ve even had to hire a woman agent to interview women. “
Megan looked over at him. “Why aren’t you using that agent for this case then?”
Eric shrugged. “I thought about it. But I decided it might be good for you to do it. You can see the woman and get a feel for her firsthand.”
Megan nodded. She remembered other cases where she had relied solely on a witness’s statement and hadn’t met the witness face to face. She’d learned that wasn’t always a good practice. The person might give a good statement but when you met them face to face they weren’t credible at all.
“The stakes are pretty high in this case,” Eric said. “I feel like you may need to see and hear what she has to say in person.”
Megan slowed down. She was getting hot. “I can’t say I disagree. When do you plan to go see the woman in New Mexico?”
“In the next couple of weeks. If you can fit that into your schedule.”
“I’ll check the calendar when I get home, but I think it will work.”
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
“You take the lead,” Eric said, nodding.
Megan knocked on the door. The house where Alexis Steiner lived was a small bungalow on the outskirts of Truth or Consequences, about 150 miles south of Albuquerque. From the looks of it the house was old and in need of some repair. Eric’s investigation had revealed that Alexis lived alone, wasn’t married, and had no children. Megan shifted her weight to the other leg and waited. It was six p.m., and from what they had learned about Alexis’s schedule she should be home. Megan knocked again.
Then she heard a car behind her, turned, and saw a small dark brown jeep pull into the driveway.
A tall thin woman with curly auburn hair, probably in her late twenties or early thirties, stepped out of the Jeep and glanced at them cautiously.
“That’s her.” Eric nodded at Megan. “Looks just like the picture I have.”
Alexis retrieved a plastic sack of groceries from the front seat and came over to where they were standing. She set the bag of groceries down and fished around in her purse. After a second she pulled out a ring of keys.
“Can I help you?”
Megan extended her hand. “I’m Megan O’Reilly and this is Eric Covington. We’re from the D.C. area. I’m an attorney and Eric is a private investigator.”
Megan could see concern and confusion appear in Alexis’s face.
“Who are you looking for?”
“Alexis Steiner. That’s you, isn’t it?”
Alexis said nothing. She jabbed a key into the front door lock and turned it. She pushed the door open a little way and set the bag of groceries down inside the foyer. Then she turned back and faced them. “Well, I’m Alexis Steiner. You seem to know me but I’ve never heard of you. No offense, but do you have any ID?”
Eric reached in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, flipped it open, extracted his PI license, and handed it to Alexis. She studied the photo and then handed it back to Eric.
“You know, anyone can have those printed up,” she said. She cast a quick glance around as if checking to see if there were any neighbors nearby in case there were any problems.
“You’re welcome to call the state licensing agency if you’d like,” Megan said. She gave Alexis her bar identification card. “And you’re welcome to confirm my identity with the bar.”
Alexis studied the card and then handed it back to Megan.
“At the moment, the bigger question I have is why you’re here. What do you want?”
Megan could see she was leery of them. Megan couldn’t blame her much in this day and age. May we come in and talk to you?”
Alexis stood for a moment and said nothing. “I suppose.” She pushed the door open and Megan and Eric followed her inside to the kitchen. She placed the bag of groceries on the counter, turned, and faced them.
“Come on into the living room.” She motioned them to follow her.
The living room decor consisted of a tan leather couch and two matching chairs. Alexis sat on the couch. Eric and Megan each took a chair across from her. Between them was a coffee table with magazines scattered on top.
Alexis stared at them. “So why are you here?”
Megan cleared her throat. “We came to talk to you about someone you used to know. I have a client now who’s in the same situation you were put in years ago.”
Alexis looked at Megan blankly. “I have no idea what this could have to do with me—or who you think I know. I’m really lost.”
“We came to talk to you about Craig Tarkington.”
Alexis’s expression darkened. She crossed her arms and leaned back against the couch.
For several moments the room was silent. Megan could see Alexis wasn’t going to volunteer anything.
“Here’s why we’re wanting to talk with you.” Megan rested her elbows on her knees and outlined Lucy’s situation, how Tarkington had raped her and she was pressing charges. She told Alexis that Eric had learned from his investigation that several years ago she had been attacked by Tarkington as well. “We came to see you because we wanted to see if you would be willing to help in Lucy’s case. We also wanted to know if you’re interested in suing or pressing charges against Tarkington and making him accountable for what he did to you.”
Alexis said nothing. She looked down at the couch and ran her hand over the soft leather.
Megan cast a quick glance at Eric. He was sitting quietly with his hands folded in his lap. She continued. “Lucy is going forward with her prosecution of him. The charges have already been filed.” Megan paused and leaned back in the chair. “We wanted to meet you and see if you would be willing to come forward as well
.”
Megan felt a wall of ice form around Alexis. Eric shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Megan knew he was sensing the same thing. This wasn’t good. Megan opened her legal pad and extracted a pen from her purse. “May we ask you a few questions?”
Alexis leaned forward and looked at the coffee table. She rearranged some of the magazines. Megan could see that her mind was racing. After a few moments Alexis stood up. “I ‘m not sure what your information is or if it’s even correct.” She walked to the front door, opened it, and cut a glance at Megan and Eric who were still seated.
Megan felt her stomach tighten. “Men like Tarkington need to be stopped,” she persisted. “We thought you might be able to help. We won’t take much of your time.”
“I’m not interested.” Alexis looked pointedly at them.
Megan and Eric got up and crossed the room. They stepped through the door and onto the porch. Before they could say anything the door shut behind them.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Megan eased the car up the small gravel drive and pulled to a stop. Kat’s Katfish House, the sign said in shiny red neon. “You have got to be kidding,” she said to herself out loud. Earlier in the day when Windfield called and wanted to meet he had suggested they go somewhere off the beaten path—she’d had no clue how off the beaten path he meant. He’d picked this place and set the time. Six p.m. She cast a glance at her phone—she was five minutes early.
The restaurant appeared to be an old trailer that had been rehabbed. Fish netting, shells and life preservers dangled from hooks and poles on the outside. A deck had been added on for outdoor dining. Megan cast a glance around, wondering what would be the attraction to eating outside. There was nothing to see. The restaurant was situated on a nondescript piece of ground with nothing but scrub brush even close to it. The last sign of life was about a mile down the road and that was a gas station.
She pushed the door open and heard bells jingle. She looked up and saw a string of them dangling from the ceiling next to the door. A line of stools with red plastic coverings dotted the length of the counter which ran parallel to the booths lining the wall. Windfield was seated in the last booth. “Hey,” he said waving his arm. Megan looked around. The place was empty. She walked back to where Windfield was sitting and slid into the seat across from him.
Windfield slid a menu over to her. It consisted of a piece of paper encased in a page protector.
Megan picked it up. “You sure do know how to show a lady a good time.”
A waitress wearing torn jeans and a t-shirt with Kat’s Katfish House emblazoned on the front drifted over and took their orders.
“So what’s all the mystery?” Megan picked up her briefcase and placed it on the seat.
“No mystery,” Windfield said. He was grasping a glass of beer with one hand and was drumming the fingers of his other hand on the vinyl table top.
Megan could tell there was something up.
After a few moments he cleared his throat. “We’ve had a little development in Lucy’s case.” He took a swallow of his drink. “This thing is a hot potato. My phone has been ringing off the wall. I wanted us to meet at a place where the press wouldn’t find us.” He nodded toward the empty tables.
“Well, this just might be the place,” Megan replied laughing. She could see that he loved all the attention the press was giving him but she knew him well enough to see that he was also troubled by something.
“So what is it?” Megan leaned back in the booth and rested her hands on the table.
Windfield reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper and pushed it toward her. “Tarkington’s lawyer wants to have you disqualified as special prosecutor.”
Megan was taken aback. She grabbed the paper and glanced at it. Petition to Disqualify Special Prosecutor . She tossed it down on the table.
“They’re saying you know too much about Tarkington because you worked with him at the law firm.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, shaking her head. “Mattingly thinks I know personal things about Tarkington and that will make it a conflict for me to prosecute the case against him?”
Windfield nodded. The waitress appeared and placed two heaping baskets of catfish sandwiches, french fries, slaw and hushpuppies in front of them.
Megan pushed hers aside. “I know nothing about Tarkington—at least nothing I learned as a result of training him at the firm. Everything I know I learned from Lucy.”
“Of course they’re going to say this, Megan.” Windfield took a big bite of his catfish sandwich. He picked up his napkin and wiped his mouth. “They’re going to try and play any card they can.”
“I did nothing but train him. Plain and simple. “
“No personal friendship, right?” Windfield winked at her and laughed.
Megan glared at him.
“I had to ask that.” He paused. “Is there anything at all you feel you learned about Tarkington while training him that you could use against him now?”
Megan shook her head. “Nothing.”
For several moments they sat eating in silence.
“I just wanted to tell you this had developed and get you prepared.” Windfield poked his fork into the cup of coleslaw.
“Prepared for what?”
“The hearing to disqualify you.”
Her expression darkened.
“No worries, I’ll be representing you.” Windfield looked up and smiled.
Megan hadn’t even thought about a hearing. She felt her stomach tighten. “Is there a date set?”
Windfield nodded. “A week from today—nine a.m.”
“What? “ Megan was stunned. “The hearing is that soon?”
Windfield leaned in and rested his hands on the table. “I’m not worried about you. You’ll be fine. This is just a bunch of bullshit by Tarkington and his lawyer.” He paused. “I’m more concerned about what a media circus this will be and wanted to prepare you. It’s already been incredible. It might have been anyway, but having the accused be the grandson of a conservative Supreme Court justice is driving the media wild. Everywhere I turn there’s some reporter shoving a mike in my face. They’re going to have a heyday with this hearing.” Windfield picked up his beer and drained the last of it.
Megan nodded. She couldn’t believe how fast this was all happening,
“I’m sure Tarkington and his lawyer will want to have the press there in full force so they portray what victims Tarkington and his grandfather are. They’ll want to try this case in the media. And of course, they will be taking a big shot at you. “ Windfield shifted in his seat. “Tarkington and his lawyer will want to attack you any way they can.”
Megan could feel anger rising in her. She knew how the defense game was played. The defendant was always the poor victim and the prosecutor was always the bad guy who had wrongfully accused him.
“I filed a motion with the court asking that the hearing be closed to the public to keep the press out.” Windfield wadded up his paper napkin and tossed it onto the plate.
Megan looked at him. “Has the court ruled yet?”
Windfield looked down at the table. “It was denied.”
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
The morning was a fiasco, with the press crawling everywhere. Hoping to help Megan avoid the crush of reporters Windfield arranged for the police department to pick Megan up in a transport van with tinted windows. The van pulled up at Megan’s house at barely seven a.m., two hours before the hearing, and took her to the judge’s private courthouse entrance. But the press was already there. Camera men were busy setting up and TV reporters were huddled together talking. Megan couldn’t believe that they were all out in full force this early. She scrunched down in her seat in case anyone could see her through the tinted windows. The whole experience was off the charts and she didn’t see it calming down. As a matter of fact, it was just warming up.
Ever since the meeting with Windfield she’d been trying to figure
out why Mattingly and Tarkington wanted her off the case so badly. The trial would go forward anyway, but why did they want her out? Could it just be due to the fact that she had been a special prosecutor in the Judge Booth trial several years ago and they knew she would be a better prosecutor than anyone Windfield had on staff? After all, she had received high accolades for being the person who didn’t hesitate to take on such a sensitive high profile case against a man who had been revered in the eyes of the public and legal world as a fine jurist and man of impeccable character. Or could it be something else? Did they know something she didn’t know?
At nine a.m. sharp the hearing started and Mattingly called Tarkington to the stand. Dressed in a conservative gray suit and tie, Tarkington recounted how he met Megan and described their relationship. She was stunned by some of his answers. According to him, he’d divulged personal information to her and they had become friends. He also testified that he had talked to her about some business matters and had hired her to represent him in them. He said that she had not been paid yet but they had agreed on the rate and on what she would be doing.
Windfield did a brief but thorough cross examination and Tarkington didn’t budge from his story.
Mattingly next called Megan to the stand. She testified that she did not agree with what Tarkington had just said. She told the Court that she was not his attorney and that they had never had a discussion about Tarkington hiring her to represent him. She knew nothing about this business venture he’d testified about.
“You and Mr. Tarkington had an employment contract did you not?” Mattingly rubbed his chin.
Megan shook her head. “No we did not.”
Seeing that he was not making the headway he had hoped Mattingly changed his tactics. “Ms. O’Reilly, isn’t it a fact that your relationship with my client was at least partly more of a friendship?”
“No,” Megan said emphatically. “I trained him to work at the law firm. Period. We had no personal relationship.”
“No meetings outside of work? Nothing romantic, of course.” Mattingly shook his head. “You claim you didn’t learn anything personal about Craig while training him?”
Victim of the Defense Page 8
