Trial by Fury

by KG MacGregor

  * * *

  Seeing Theo on live TV was getting more and more surreal. She had a special quality the camera picked up and cast out to everyone watching. In Hollywood, they called it star power, an electrifying charisma that would have producers fighting one another to turn her into their branded property. No wonder the press showed up en masse for her staged events.

  Only one of the news networks had covered the press conference live. However, it was the lead story on all the local channels at six o’clock, and earned a prominent mention on all the major networks during their evening newscast. Most interesting were the words they used to describe the charges—explosive, shocking, staggering.

  More than five hours had passed since the announcement, enough to be certain everyone in Harwood’s administration had read the claim. Celia expected her phone to ring any minute with news of her suspension or a demand for her to appear before the board. So far only Bill Auger had called, assuring he was on call should she need him.

  Unable to open page.

  The message on her computer screen confirmed her fears—the blowback had begun. She took a screen shot and forwarded it to Bill. It couldn’t possibly be a coincidence she’d lost access to the university’s server the very day Theo’s lawsuit cited an intimidating meeting with a faculty member who attempted to engage the university’s help. It didn’t matter that her name wasn’t listed in the suit—they knew exactly who’d reported their threats.

  If they’d cut off her computer access, there was little doubt they’d locked her out of her campus office too.

  Fortunately, she was prepared, if not emotionally then professionally. After tearing herself away from Theo after breakfast the day before, she’d gone to Forbes Hall to gather her personal effects and relevant work materials. Back at home, she’d spent several hours downloading work files and copying twelve years of correspondence to an offline email client.

  Her sharp ringtone startled her and she looked at it anxiously, relieved to see Theo’s office number. “Oh, it’s just you. I’ve been sitting here all afternoon waiting to be fired.”

  “Just me, huh?” Theo chuckled. “So the bloom’s already off the rose.”

  “Hardly. You were awesome today. Not that I was surprised, but you kicked even more ass than I expected.”

  “It went well. Good turnout. Plus we had some assholes in attendance who made the press even more sympathetic. They took off before anyone could interview them on camera, but look for their sexist taunts to show up in the papers.”

  Celia listened with disgust as Theo described the behavior of the young men who’d gathered to heckle her. “I’m not surprised. That creepy mindset’s all over campus.”

  “We have to expect reprisals.”

  “Oh, they’ve already started. Looks like I’ve been frozen out of my Harwood account. Good thing I downloaded everything last night. Except anyone who writes to me now won’t get a response. It all goes to the ether.”

  “Good to know.” Theo already had her gmail address and promised to send a schedule of TV interviews she should watch for. “I’m doing a few of them tonight here from our office, but they won’t air until tomorrow morning. Oh, and I wanted to give you a heads up that I might have to go out of town next weekend for another case.”

  “And you said the bloom was off my rose. You’re already making plans to sneak off with someone else.”

  “You could always come with me. Newport, Rhode Island. We’ll find a nice B&B.”

  Before Celia could accept, she was interrupted by her doorbell, injecting a jolt of anxiety and paranoia. “Uh-oh, somebody’s at my door.” A peek through the window revealed Kay Crylak’s Subaru. “It’s a friend of mine. Looks like she’s heard the news.”

  “I’ll let you go. Call me at bedtime. We’ll talk dirty.”

  Celia chuckled to herself as she bounded down the stairs for the door.

  It wasn’t uncommon for Kay to stop in unannounced. She lived nearby, close enough that they sometimes carpooled to the MARTA stop. Obviously she was coming from her office on campus, since she was dressed in a pantsuit with polished shoes instead of her usual warmup suit and sneakers. But the glower on her face made it clear this wasn’t a social call.

  “Did that lawyer send you to pump me for information? Is that what our little lunch was about? I thought we were friends.”

  “Whoa! What’s going on?”

  Kay stormed past her and whirled around. “I just came from an emergency meeting of the entire athletic department. Coaches, assistant coaches, trainers—every last one of us. They threatened to fire anybody who suggested there was a special arrangement between the campus police and the AD. There was a list going around of people we weren’t supposed to talk to. Lo and behold, your name was on it. I’m going to lose my job the minute somebody figures out I know you.”

  “That’s bullshit. There is a special arrangement between athletes and the cops, but I knew about it before you ever said a word to me. I saw it myself with Hayley. She even handed the cops a video of those guys raping her while she was passed out, and they still didn’t bother to investigate.”

  “You expect me to believe it was just a coincidence you sat there all through lunch talking about jocks and their privileges?”

  “Think whatever you want, but I wasn’t pumping you for anything.” Suddenly reminded of her thin walls, she lowered her voice. “Besides, if I remember correctly, you’re the one who brought it up. Your girls who were trying to pass algebra? The bicycle thief?”

  Kay’s frown gradually eased as she recalled the conversation. “You could have told me you were a witness, Celia. I didn’t have to read it in a memo.”

  “I’m not just a witness.” It was too late to take back her words. She had to trust that Kay would see where she was coming from, or their friendship could be ruined forever. “I’m the one who took the case to Theo Constantine in the first place. The girl who was raped…she was a theater student. You saw her on stage last year when you brought that woman from Marietta to see our show. Hayley came to me for help, but Earl Gupton and Norman Tuttle wouldn’t listen. Instead, they threatened me to keep my mouth shut. The reason I didn’t tell you was because Theo was still investigating. She hadn’t decided yet whether or not to take the case. If word had gotten out too soon, they could have destroyed evidence or pressured witnesses. There wouldn’t have been a case at all.”

  “All the more reason…”

  It was one thing for Kay to feel betrayed that she hadn’t confided in her about the case. But Celia wouldn’t stand for one of her friends being so callous.

  “You can’t possibly mean that, Kay. A girl is dead because of what those players did. And what the university did to cover it up.” She heard her voice rising again but this time didn’t even try to control her anger. “Hayley Burkhart was my girl, the same way your players are your girls. You go to bat for them when they screw up, but somehow you expect me just to let it slide when one of mine gets raped by a bunch of ballplayers. And then gets fucked over by the people who are supposed to protect her?”

  “Well maybe there was a good reason. Did you think of that? What if those guys are telling the truth? What if she came on to them?” Kay threw up her hands defensively. “I’m not saying she did. Just…maybe there are two sides to this story and you only heard the one you wanted to hear.”

  “For God’s sake, Kay! Did you even watch the video?”

  “I—” She shook her head and spun away to pace the small living room. “I haven’t been at my computer today. I just heard what Coach T said about the players…that she was throwing herself at them.”

  “Have a seat. You’re going to watch this video and see for yourself who’s lying.” Celia scraped a dining chair out from under the table before starting upstairs for her laptop. It was all she could do not to stomp her feet.

  Kay was sitting when she returned, her arms folded defiantly.

  “The one that’s going around has Hayley’s face
blurred so people don’t recognize her. This one’s the real deal. I dare you to look at her face and tell me she wanted this.”

  She clicked on the link and stood back with her hands on her hips, silently counting the seconds until Kay’s moment of realization.

  “Get out the way, man.”

  Kay’s eyes widened with obvious horror as the video came to an end with Matt Frazier laughing into the camera. “You are fucking kidding me. I had no idea. How could anybody see that and not call it rape?”

  “Now you know why I took this case to Theo. Those bastards ought to rot in jail. If I had my way, Gupton and Tuttle would be in the cell right beside them.”

  “If you’d heard what I’d heard today, you’d want the whole athletic department in there with them. I swear to you, Celia…this is not how they described what happened.”

  “So now you know they’re liars. You should tell Theo what you told me, that the athletic department has a fixer whenever one of the players gets in trouble. That’s all part of this culture of entitlement, and it has to go.”

  Kay went quiet for several seconds, her lips tightened as she contemplated the request. “I can’t, Celia. My contract is at-will. They’d fire me in two seconds.”

  “Theo says they can’t do that. Harwood takes federal funds. That means you’d have whistleblower status if you reported wrongdoing.”

  “Right…we both know it wouldn’t be for that. They’d fire me because twenty and ten wasn’t good enough, or they were getting complaints from players. They’d find a reason even if they had to make it up.”

  The audiotape Celia had made of her meeting with Gupton and Tuttle was proof the administration was part of the coverup. If they had Kay’s testimony about the athletic department having a special attorney to get charges dropped against players, it would make their case even stronger.

  “I have my own lawyer, Kay. He could protect you too. Theo says I’ll have the most secure job on the whole campus. They won’t dare touch me.”

  Kay shook her head. “It’s not the same, Celia. Don’t get me wrong—I get it now. I want you to win this case. It’s time some of those cocky bastards went to jail. But I can’t afford to go against the athletic department this way. It would poison me. Not just here, but anywhere else. I’d never work again.”

  Dejected, Celia slumped in the adjacent chair. Tempted as she was to force Kay to watch the video again, she conceded to herself there was good reason to fear the backlash. “At least promise me you won’t do anything to hurt us.”

  “I’m sorry I came over here with guns a-blazing. I understand why you’re doing this.” Kay held out her hand until Celia took it. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m going to keep my head so low, they won’t see anything but the back of my neck. I meant what I said, Celia—I hope you win.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Unable to open page.

  Bill Auger had assured her the shutout would only be temporary, that this was an ill-advised knee-jerk response by the university to make her life miserable. He was prepared to write a cease-and-desist letter if she gave the word, but so far she’d resisted escalating the confrontation.

  Not all problems would be fixed so easily, he said. Promotion or not, fall semester would likely find her back in front of the lecture hall introducing theater to a crowd of listless freshmen. And with the worst possible schedule—eight a.m. or six p.m., whichever was deemed most punitive. But that was a battle for another day.

  Celia wasn’t interested in battles at all. No matter how tenuous her job, her main thoughts were centered around Theo. For the first time ever, she had someone who made her feel there might be something more important in her life than her job. She would never have believed she could fall in love so fast, that her academic career would tumble so quickly to a distant second place.

  Theo was the kind of woman she’d always wanted. Powerful, independent. Someone selfless enough to answer a higher calling. The fact that Theo thought her a hero too made her all the more determined to be one.

  She closed her computer and went downstairs for coffee, settling in front of her TV with the remote. The morning news shows were about to begin. Theo’s list contained six interviews in all, including two cable sports programs.

  Sipping her coffee, she scrolled through the channels listening for news of the lawsuit. Ironically, the story was presented first by TNS’s Teresa Gonzalez, the reporter at the heart of the sexual harassment suit Theo recently had won. Despite the acrimonious court battle, the network obviously knew a hot news commodity when they saw it.

  “From a studio in Atlanta, we have with us renowned women’s rights attorney Theodora Constantine. Yesterday, Ms. Constantine dropped a major bombshell on the sports world, filing a multimillion-dollar sexual assault claim against three players on Harwood University’s national championship basketball team. Two of those players, Matt Frazier and D’Anthony Caldwell, were until now expected to go very high in next week’s NBA draft. Welcome, Ms. Constantine.”

  This was one of the interviews Theo had taped the night before from the teleconferencing studio in her office. Wearing a brown suit jacket over an amber top, she easily held her own against Gonzalez, a doll-like talking head. “Thank you for having me, Teresa. Before we get to your questions, I need to point out this suit is not about sexual assault. It’s a wrongful death claim. Nor is it only against the three players directly implicated by the astonishing video that was released yesterday. Our suit equally charges the administration and board of trustees of Harwood University, who viewed this video and, by abdicating their responsibilities to provide this young woman with the due process to which she was entitled, directly caused the mental anguish that led her to take her life. Had the university responded in a reasonable manner, I have no doubt Hayley Burkhart would be here with us today.” She held up a piece of paper Celia assumed to be the affidavit from Hayley’s roommate. “Instead, they threatened to expel her from the university and support her rapists in a defamation suit should she go public with the allegations.”

  Gonzalez stuttered, trying to interject a question.

  Theo continued over her, as was her apparent style. “In all my years as an attorney trying cases for women’s civil rights, I’ve never seen such an abominable example of institutional misogyny. Who could possibly be surprised if we learned there were other women—other students at Harwood—who reported this sort of attack only to see it swept under the rug as well? Are there other athletes or prominent campus figures who’ve escaped justice? We know what Harwood University will do for a basketball championship. What else do they value more than their female students?”

  The newscaster tried again to jump in, but she wasn’t quick enough.

  “That championship, by the way, is expected to result in a windfall of thirty million dollars for the university’s coffers in increased donations from alumni, sale of championship merchandise and television rights. We’re suing to recover that amount—to wipe it away as fair punishment for the depraved decision to trade the life of a young woman for a basketball trophy. And because that decision was both willful and reckless, we expect to be awarded treble damages of over one hundred million dollars.”

  Gonzalez finally cut in. “University officials issued a statement late Monday afternoon appealing to the public to withhold judgment until all the facts come to light. They insist student privacy laws prohibit them from releasing specific information, but there have been suggestions the woman at the center of this case may have been predisposed to mental health issues.”

  Celia had read that statement in the Journal-Constitution’s story. Their concerns about her privacy were bogus, as they’d selectively leaked details about her family situation and the fact that she’d been seen multiple times at the student counseling center, including during her freshman year for what a therapist intern had called mild depression.

  “We agree completely with those suggestions, Teresa. Harwood was well aware of Ms. Burkhart’s emo
tional history, and that’s precisely why this tragic outcome was foreseeable. That makes their failure to protect her right to due process utterly indefensible.”

  In one segment after another, Theo delivered her blistering indictment. Over and over, she repeated her charges against the university, holding up various props to support her statements. The affidavit, a sweet photo of Hayley from the press kit for The Pirates of Penzance. Perhaps most impactful was the front page of the Journal-Constitution showing the on-court trophy presentation following the championship win—with the exuberant faces of the rapists.

  By the time they got to the sixth program, a roundup of the top stories in sports, Celia had practically memorized Theo’s talking points.

  The host of the show was Cliff Reynolds, a thick-necked former football star with a reputation for stoking controversy. “It’s been suggested by some, Ms. Constantine, that your entire case is being underwritten by one of Harwood’s rival universities, someone trying to tarnish the team’s victory. Others say it’s a general protest by some of Harwood’s ivory-tower academics who are upset over the university’s emphasis on athletics. How do you respond to those critics?”