Trial by Fury

by KG MacGregor

  “Now there’s an idea.” Theo capped off her reply with a light kiss. “I knew there was something about you the first time you came to my office. Your Windsor knot…that fedora.”

  “Don’t tease me.” She still was embarrassed by her spectacle.

  “Sorry. What if I told you I thought you were being brave? That I was impressed because you knew your job was at risk and you came anyway.”

  “Is that even a little bit true?”

  Theo chuckled. “I notice women who stick their neck out. That’s what it takes to shake things up. It was a selfless act.”

  Celia had been so starstruck that day, she hadn’t even noticed being noticed. Sure, Theo had been attentive and kind, but she was all business. “Did you really feel something that day? Or was it the day you found out I was Little CeCe?”

  “You remember when we met at the pub? You said you were surprised to see me, that you thought I’d send someone else.” Theo began to nibble on her earlobe. “No way was I going to do that. I wanted to see you again.”

  “Hunh. That’s funny. I never got that vibe from you until you said you wished we could date. That blew me away.” But when Theo dismissed it, Celia had assumed it hadn’t been important enough to pursue.

  “Chalk it up to my poker face. Part of my training for the courtroom. I’m very good at controlling my emotions…just not with you, apparently. I shouldn’t even have said anything, not before I worked out how we could do this without crossing any ethical lines. But I couldn’t help myself.”

  Celia covered her hand and pressed it to her heart. “I like it better when you talk to me.”

  “I will from now on.”

  A wave of guilt coursed through her as she thought of how she’d felt that day in Theo’s office. It was time to come clean with why Hayley’s story had mattered so much. “Honesty isn’t just telling the truth, Theo. It’s also not hiding things that might be important.”

  “I know. I felt bad for not saying something sooner about what I was feeling…like that day I stopped by your office at the university. The bottom line was I wanted to see you again, plain and simple. But I was still trying to figure out a way to make it work.”

  “I’ve…I’ve been keeping something from you too. Something about Hayley,” she blurted, feeling at once relieved to have opened the door. “Not about her, really. About me.”

  Theo didn’t say anything, at least not with words. The gentle massage of her chest had stopped and a wrinkle appeared on her brow.

  “It wasn’t totally selfless what I did. I was trying to make up for not doing it when it happened to me.”

  She held fast to Theo’s arm as she tried to sit up.

  “You were raped?”

  “Maybe. I’m not really sure what happened, but it wasn’t nothing.” For years, she’d kept her teenage trauma bottled up, not even telling Gina. “It was at a party in LA after we finished my last slasher film. I was only sixteen at the time. One minute I was sitting out by the pool with some of the guys from the crew. Next thing I know, it’s morning and I’m waking up in a strange bed all by myself. No clothes, no memory of who I was with. And nobody around to ask.”

  “Were you hurt?”

  She shook her head, recalling vividly the feelings of disorientation. “No, I didn’t feel anything. It’s not like I was a virgin…but it’s hard to believe somebody would have knocked me out like that and put me to bed naked without doing something. I have absolutely no memory of what happened…but it couldn’t have been as bad as what they did to Hayley.”

  “Celia, whoever did that to you was a lowlife…the worst kind of coward. Did you try to find out who it was?”

  “I asked my friend Richard if he’d seen anything. He was one of the producers. It was his house. He said he had no idea. I know it wasn’t him because he’s gay, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t let it happen.” Twenty years had mellowed her outrage but not her questions. “I told my mother. You know what she said? ‘So some guy took advantage of you. Get used to it.’ That was the Judy Monroe School of Parenting.”

  Theo snaked an arm underneath her and pulled her close. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could have been there for you.”

  “You and me both. Something tells me you’d have found out who it was and kicked his ass.”

  “Damn right.” She planted a series of kisses on Celia’s head. “It hurts me to know that happened to you, that you’ve been carrying it around by yourself for so long.”

  “I don’t carry it all the time. It’s just here right now because of Hayley. I usually try not to think about it too much because it only makes me imagine all the awful things that might have happened. At this stage of my life, I honestly don’t want to know.”

  “I can understand that. I’d probably feel the same way.”

  Celia sighed. “I just wonder what I would have said to Hayley if she hadn’t shown me the video proving those guys really did it. ‘Tough break, kid. Shit happens.’ I’d like to think I would have been more supportive than that.”

  “You would have. I see your anger, your indignation. It’s like mine, just as intense.”

  Except Celia’s had laid dormant until Hayley’s horror brought it all back. Twenty-five years of skirting the fight while she folded herself into the establishment, becoming part of the hegemony. The reports she’d seen as part of the faculty senate had confirmed these attacks were happening, and the perpetrators were getting off with little more than a scolding from their peers on the honor court. Why hadn’t she questioned that? Why had it taken Hayley’s suicide to ignite her rage?

  * * *

  Though it wasn’t yet seven, sunrise had overtaken the room.

  Theo slid quietly from the bed, careful not to wake Celia, who was sprawled facedown without a pillow. Her arms and legs lay juxtaposed as though in the midst of a freestyle swimming stroke.

  In her walk-in closet, she slipped on the Atlanta Braves nightshirt she would have worn had she slept alone. Her summer robe she saved for Celia, dropping it at the end of the bed as she tiptoed out to the kitchen.

  Their night together had proven greater than any of the fantasies she’d conjured. Celia’s somber revelation had interrupted their lovemaking, but by the time they talked it out, they were emotionally closer. When they kissed again, their passion was ready to burst.

  Celia Perone was different. Whatever it was that had prompted Theo to toss out her rulebook was having the same effect on her heart. Until now, she hadn’t believed in love at first sight, or love at first anything. Celia was making her think again.

  “Is that coffee?” Celia had eschewed the robe, choosing instead one of Theo’s crisply ironed white shirts. Its sleeves were rolled up and its tail just long enough to tease what she wore underneath. “I nicked some knickers from your drawer too, in case you’re wondering. And I gave them a good sniff before I put them on.”

  Theo chuckled and held out her arms. “I tried to be quiet when I got up. You looked so peaceful. I could have watched you for hours.”

  “You must like looking at roadkill. The only reason I looked peaceful was because you wore me out.”

  “Believe me, I was tempted to wake you up so we could start over. You were so beautiful lying there.”

  Celia grunted. “Bed head and morning breath. Always a winning combination.”

  She seemed determined to deflect everything Theo said with self-deprecating humor. Either she wasn’t serious about their night of lovemaking or she didn’t think Theo was.

  Theo placed a hand over Celia’s mouth and said, “I thought you were gorgeous and I couldn’t have been happier at waking up and finding you beside me. And now you’re supposed to say, ‘You’re so sweet, Theo. I’m delighted to know you find me irresistible.’”

  They both began to laugh, and when Celia finally tugged her hand away, she said, “I get the message. Delighted, enchanted…enthralled. I’m all those things.”

  “That’s much more like it.” She kissed her on t
he nose before presenting her with a mug of coffee. “Cream?”

  “Black.”

  “Good, because I don’t have cream.”

  “Man, you’re spunky in the morning!”

  Theo bit her tongue to keep from telling her to get used to it. Too presumptuous. “Let’s sit outside. It won’t get oppressively hot out there until about ten.” She led the way and raised the umbrella over a chaise lounge. “Want to sit with me?”

  Celia waited for her to get settled and took the space in front, leaning back against Theo’s chest. “This is so nice, Theo. You might have a hard time getting rid of me.”

  “Who says I want to? And before you toss that off with another glib remark, you should know I’m serious when I say that. I liked waking up with you. We’re going to have many, many mornings like this.”

  After a long silence, Celia began tickling the back of her hand. “How can you know that already?”

  “I told you. It’s different. You’re different. I woke up this morning and felt it all over again.” She swept Celia’s hair back and laid a light kiss on her temple. “Last night was just the beginning as far as I’m concerned. This feels right. I can’t explain it more than that…it’s like trying to describe lightning. All I know is I’m not going to question it.”

  “Don’t question it.” Celia craned her neck upward so they could share a kiss. “Just run with it. That’s what I’m going to do.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Theo had hired a pair of limos to take her team to the press site. On the short ride with Jalinda, she finished a call with Penny. “I won’t have time to go to Rhode Island this week. See if you can schedule a teleconference on Wednesday or Thursday. If she insists on meeting in person, maybe I can fly up there over the weekend.”

  “Is this a new case?” Jalinda asked, brushing a piece of lint from her dark blue business suit. Theo had noticed she always dressed well for events in which she might appear in the background on TV news.

  “Maybe,” Theo replied. “A woman from a prominent family in Newport just found out her husband’s part of a heroin ring. She wants to turn him in, but she’s afraid the feds will confiscate her house.”

  It was an intriguing case. The wife’s “innocent owner” defense was on shaky ground, since their new home had clearly been built with funds from a criminal enterprise.

  “Are we ready to roll?”

  Jalinda nodded. “The press got the video about half an hour ago. They were told to show up at Harwood’s main entrance at two for an explanation.”

  Theo checked her watch. “That’s only fifteen minutes from now. You blurred the image, right? We can’t let that out there with Hayley’s face.” Though the public wouldn’t be able to see that her eyes were closed, her motionless body and limp arm made it obvious she was passed out.

  “Done. Hank left an hour and a half ago to pick up Donald Lipscomb. They’ll meet us there. And I’ve got four of Hayley’s sorority sisters, including Sarah Holcomb, lined up to stand behind us so they can hold the pictures.”

  They’d blown up one of Hayley’s publicity head shots and mounted it on foam core board. Young and lovely, she was a compelling victim—a fact Theo was forced to play up in order to win the press’s attention. The second photo showed the Harwood Hornets, all with celebratory smiles as they hoisted their championship trophy. The faces of the three known rapists were circled in red.

  But today’s press conference wouldn’t be about rape, but its aftermath. Naming Haley as a suicide victim while releasing the video of her rape was walking a thin line. Should Theo be accused of violating the privacy of a rape victim, she planned to argue the technicality—that no one was being charged with rape.

  As they arrived at the entrance to Harwood’s campus, she wrapped up her review of the facts of her case. Their twenty-page written complaint was meticulous, listing forty-three respondents, including three players, two police officers and two supervisors, the chancellor and finally, the entire board of trustees. For good measure, she’d added unknown defendants she might identify through discovery. After each group of defendants, she laid out a detailed accounting of the actions that established their liability for Hayley’s mental distress and subsequent suicide—sexual assault, negligence, and intentional or reckless conduct.

  She’d rehearsed a forceful speech similar to the one she planned to give during opening arguments if they made it to trial. Except today, the defendants wouldn’t be there to rebut. It would take the players and university at least a day to digest the complaint, hire attorneys and issue a preliminary response. By that time, the video of the rape would have gone viral with her version of events taking root.

  A small crowd had gathered on the corner of Northside and Harwood Boulevard, where four satellite TV trucks were already set up. Hank was standing off to the side with Lipscomb. Jalinda summoned the detective to carry the collapsible podium from her trunk while she handed out the giant photos to the women who waited.

  Theo was rushed by a handful of reporters the moment she stepped out of the car. “Will you be announcing a civil suit against the three Harwood basketball players shown in the video assaulting a woman?”

  As she strode toward her client, she smoothed a crease in her black silk suit, purchased the day before especially for this appearance. “I’ll be making a statement in about ten minutes, and I promise to take your questions later.”

  On Theo’s advice, Lipscomb was wearing a mismatched gray tweed sport jacket with a pale yellow shirt and striped tie. They were going for a humble look. According to Hank, it’s exactly what he’d have worn if left to his own devices.

  “Thank you for coming, Mr. Lipscomb. Did you have a chance to review my notes?”

  He nodded, swallowing nervously. It was easy to think he’d never been part of something so public.

  Once she made her announcement, he was to read a short statement concerning his grief over Hayley’s death, and how it was worsened by news of her sexual assault and the university’s deliberate refusal to investigate the matter on her behalf. Theo had coached him over the phone to limit his comments to scripted remarks, and to speak only when she gave him permission to answer reporters’ questions. They couldn’t afford to have him go off the reservation and accidentally say something that undermined their case.

  She took the podium precisely at two o’clock, positioning herself so camera operators could frame her with the elaborate gate into Harwood University over her shoulder. The crowd had grown to over a hundred onlookers, about half of whom appeared to be students. “Thank you for coming. I am here today on behalf of Hayley Burkhart, a young woman who took her life on the night of April fifth in her sorority house on the campus of Harwood University. That same night, the Harwood Hornets won the NCAA basketball championship. It is our contention those two events are related.”

  She referenced the video that reporters were already buzzing about, briefly describing its contents and confirming it was her firm that had released it to the media in advance of their announcement.

  “Today, Constantine and Associates will file a civil complaint in Georgia Superior Court against Matthew Frazier, D’Anthony Caldwell…” She read the names of all individual defendants except the board of trustees. “…on behalf of Donald Lipscomb, who is named by the State of Georgia as the personal representative for the interests of Hayley Burkhart’s mother, her next of kin. We allege the acts committed by the defendants resulted in Hayley Burkhart’s wrongful death. These are the facts as we know them.”

  Methodically, she ticked off the chronology of events, beginning with the party at Henderson Hall following the Vanderbilt win on February third. She indicated they were pursuing information on the person who supplied Hayley with a drugged drink, and believed him also to be the one who took the video. Though he wasn’t listed as a defendant in the complaint, she fully expected to add him to the suit once his identity was confirmed.

  “We have documented that Hayley Burkhart suffered g
reat mental distress during the period from her assault to her death. For that, we ask the court to award damages for her pain and suffering in the amount of ten million dollars. We ask the court to award an additional five million for her family’s pain and suffering. We believe Harwood University—in particular, its police force, administration and board of trustees—acted with reckless disregard in its failure to deliver due process to Hayley Burkhart in order to preserve not only the assailants’ reputations, but also their eligibility to play collegiate basketball, in order that they might win a national championship for the university. Because of this belief, we ask the court for punitive damages through disgorgement. Harwood University should relinquish all profits from that win, which we estimate to be in excess of thirty million dollars. We contend those are unjust profits derived through unethical conduct.”

  There as an audible gasp from the crowd, and a smattering of expletives from within the crowd of students. The usual misogynistic crap—cunt, bitch, slut. Theo paused a beat while the reporters tried to identify the source of the slurs.

  “Furthermore, because these actions were undeniably in reckless disregard of Hayley Burkhart’s right to due process, we ask the court to award treble damages on all counts.” That brought their total to one hundred thirty-five million.

  Theo introduced Donald Lipscomb and stepped aside as he read his statement.

  A small cluster of young men, one of whom was wearing a championship T-shirt, stood to the side of the crowd. Their allegiance to the players was evident from their scowls and head shaking.

  “Bitch!” The voice came from someone in the back, and it wasn’t clear if the heckler was referring to Hayley or Theo until he added, “She deserved it.”

  Seething with fury, Theo took the podium again when Lipscomb finished, grasping the edges firmly and steeling her voice. “The young men who assaulted Hayley Burkhart felt entitled in their roles as basketball players. They were enabled by Harwood’s police and administration, and exempt from accountability. Whereas Hayley Burkhart was raped during what should have been a joyful celebration, rejected by those whose job it was to bring those rapists to justice, and repudiated for daring to speak out.” She glared deliberately at the young men who’d created the disturbance. “There are those in the crowd who have gathered here today—I’m sure you heard the obscenities they just shouted about Ms. Burkhart…that she somehow deserved what happened to her in this heinous video. They represent a mutant strain of humanity that believes a sports trophy is worth more than a woman’s dignity, more than a woman’s life. That attitude is exactly why we’ve filed this suit—to hold Harwood University accountable for the fact that such repugnant views are at home on this campus.”