by Diana Palmer
“The man’s full name is John Taggert Callister,” he said in a gentler tone. “He’s Gil Callister’s younger brother.”
Sassy’s face lost color. She’d been dreaming of a shared life with John, of working to build something good together, along with her family. He was a millionaire. That sort of man moved in high society, had money to burn. He was up here overhauling a new ranch for the conglomerate. Sassy had been handy and she amused him, so he was playing with her. It hadn’t been serious, not even when he asked her to marry him! She felt sick to her stomach. She didn’t know what to do now. And how was she going to tell her mother and Selene the truth?
She folded her arms around her chest and sat like a stone, her green eyes staring at the attorney, pleading with him to tell her it was all a lie, a joke.
He couldn’t. He grimaced. “I’m very sorry,” he said genuinely. “I thought you knew the truth.”
“Not until now,” she said in a subdued tone. She closed her eyes. The pain was lancing, enveloping. Her life was falling apart around her.
He drew in a long breath, searching for the right words. “Miss Peale, I hate to have to ask you this. But was there an actual assault?”
She blinked. What had he asked? She met his eyes. “Mr. Tarleton kissed me and tried to handle me and I resisted him. He was angry. He got a hard grip on me and was trying to force me down on the floor when Mr. Taggert—” She stopped and swallowed, hard. “Mr. Callister, that is, came to help me. He pulled Mr. Tarleton off me. Then he called law enforcement.”
The lawyer was looking worried. “You were taken to a doctor. What were his findings?”
“Well, I had some bruises and I was sore. He ripped my blouse. I guess there wasn’t a lot of physical evidence. But it did scare me. I was upset and crying.”
“Miss Peale, was there an actual sexual assault?”
She began to understand what he meant. “Oh! Well…no,” she stammered. “He kissed me and he tried to fondle me, but he didn’t try to take any of my other clothes off, if that’s what you mean.”
“That’s what I mean.” He sat back in his chair. “We can’t prosecute for sexual assault and battery on the basis of an unwanted kiss. We can charge him with sexual assault for any sexual contact which is unwanted. However, the law provides that if he’s convicted, the maximum sentence is six months in jail or a fine not to exceed $500. If in the course of sexual contact the perpetrator inflicts bodily injury, he can get from four years to life in prison. In this case, however, you would be required to show that injury resulted from the attempted kiss. Quite circumstances, would consider unwanted touching and bruising to be worth giving a man a life sentence.”
She sighed. “Yes. It does seem a bit drastic, even to me. Is it true that he doesn’t have any prior convictions?” she asked curiously.
He shook his head. “We found out that he was arrested on a sexual harassment charge in another city, but he was cleared, so there was no conviction.”
She was tired of the whole thing. Tired of remembering Tarleton’s unwanted advances, tired of being tied to the memory as long as the court case dragged on. If she insisted on prosecuting him for an attack, she couldn’t produce any real proof. His attorney would take her apart on the witness stand, and she’d be humiliated yet again.
But as bad as that thought was, it was worse to think about going into court and asking them to put a man, even Tarleton, in prison for the rest of his life because he’d tried to kiss her. The lawyer was right. Tarleton might have intended a sexual assault, but all he managed was a kiss and some bruising. That was uncomfortable, and disgusting, but hardly a major crime. Still, she hated letting him get off so lightly.
She almost protested. It had been a little more than bruising. The man had intended much more, and he’d done it to some other poor girl who’d been too shamed to force him to go to trial. Sassy had guts. She could do this.
But then she had a sudden, frightening thought. If John Taggert Callister was called to appear for the prosecution, she realized suddenly, it would become a media event. He was famous. His presence at the trial would draw the media. There would be news crews, cameras, reporters. There might even be national exposure. Her mother would suffer for it. So would Selene. For herself, she would have taken the chance. For her mother, still undergoing cancer treatments and unsuited to stress of any kind right now, she could not.
Her shoulders lifted. “Mr. Addy, the trial will come with a media blitz if Mr…Mr. Callister is called to testify for me, won’t it? My mother and Selene could be talked about on those horrible entertainment news programs if it came out that I was poor and John was rich and there was an attempted sexual assault in the mix. Think how twisted they could make it sound. It would be the sort of sordid subject some people in the news media love to get their hands on these days. Just John’s name would guarantee that people would be interested in what happened. They could make a circus out of it.”
He hesitated. “That shouldn’t be a consideration…”
“My mother has lung cancer,” she replied starkly. “She’s just been through major surgery and is now undergoing radiation and chemo for it. She can’t take any more stress than she’s already got. If there’s even a chance that this trial could bring that sort of publicity, I can’t take it. So what can I do?”
Mr. Addy considered the question. “I think we can plea bargain him to a charge of sexual assault with the lighter sentence. I know, it’s not perfect,” he told her. “He’d likely get the fine and some jail time, even if he gets probation. And it would at least go on the record as a conviction and any future transgression on his part would land him in very hot water. He has a public defender, but he seems anxious to avoid spending a long time in jail waiting for the trial. I think he’ll agree to the lesser charge. Especially considering who the witness is. When he has time to think about the consequences of trying to drag John Callister’s good name through the mud, and consider what sort of attorneys the Callisters would produce for a trial, I believe he’ll jump at the plea bargain.”
She considered that, and then the trauma of a jury trial with all the media present. This way, at least Tarleton would now have a criminal record, and it might be enough to deter him from any future assaults on other women. “Okay,” she said. “As long as he doesn’t get away with it.”
“Oh, he won’t get away with it, Miss Peale,” he said solemnly. “I promise you that.” He pondered for a minute. “However, if you’d rather stand firm on the original charge, I’ll prosecute him, despite the obstacles. Is this plea bargain what you really want?”
She sighed sadly. “Not really. I’d love to hang him out to dry. But I have to consider my mother. It’s the only possible way to make him pay for what he tried to do without hurting my family. If it goes to a jury trial, even with the media all around, he might walk away a free man because of the publicity. You said they were already trying to twist it so that it looks like John was just jealous and making a fuss because he could, because he was rich and powerful. I know the Callisters can afford the best attorneys, but it wouldn’t be right to put them in that situation, either. Mr. Callister has two little nieces…” She grimaced. “You know, the legal system isn’t altogether fair sometimes.”
He smiled. “I agree. But it’s still the best system on earth,” he replied.
“I hope I’m doing the right thing,” she said on a sigh. “If he gets out and hurts some other woman because I backed down, I’ll never get over it.”
He gave her a long look. “You aren’t backing down, Miss Peale. You’re compromising. It may look as if he’s getting away with it. But he isn’t.”
She liked him. She smiled. “Okay, then.”
He closed his briefcase and got to his feet. He held out his hand and shook hers. “He’ll have a criminal record,” he promised her. “If he ever tries to do it again, in Montana, I can promise you that he’ll spend a lot of time looking at the world through vertical bars.” He meant every word
.
“Thanks, Mr. Addy.”
“I’ll let you know how things work out. Good evening.”
Sassy watched him go with quiet, thoughtful eyes. She was compromising on the case, but on behalf of a good cause. She couldn’t put her mother through the nightmare of a trial and the vicious publicity it would bring on them. Mrs. Peale had suffered enough.
She went back into the house. Mrs. Peale was coming out of the bedroom, wrapped in her chenille housecoat, pale and weak. “Could you get me some pineapple juice, sweetheart?” she asked, forcing a smile.
“Of course!” Sassy ran to get it. “Are you all right?” she asked worriedly.
“Just a little sick. That’s nothing to worry about, it goes with the treatments. At least I’m through with them for a few weeks.” She frowned. “What’s wrong? And who was that man you were talking to?”
“Here, back to bed.” Sassy went with her, helping her down on the bed and tucking her under the covers with her glass of cold juice. She sat down beside her. “That was the assistant district attorney—or one of them, anyway. A Mr. Addy. He came to talk to me about Mr. Tarleton. He wants to offer him a plea bargain so we don’t end up in a messy court case.”
Mrs. Peale frowned. “He’s guilty of harassing you. He assaulted you. He should pay for it.”
“He will. There’s jail time and a fine for it,” she replied, candy-coating her answer. “He’ll have a criminal record. But I won’t have to be grilled and humiliated by his attorney on the stand.”
Mrs. Peale sipped her juice. She thought about what a trial would be like for Sassy. She’d seen such trials on her soap operas. She sighed. “All right, dear. If you’re satisfied, I am, too.” She smiled. “Have you heard from John? He was going to bring me some special chocolates when he came back.”
Sassy hesitated. She couldn’t tell her mother. Not yet. “I haven’t heard from him,” she said.
“You don’t look well…”
“I’m just fine,” Sassy said, grinning. “Now you go back to bed. I’m going to reconcile the bank statement and get Selene’s clothes ready for school tomorrow.”
“All right, dear.” She settled back into the pillows. “You’re too good to me, Sassy,” she added. “Once I get back on my feet, I want you to go a lot of places with John. I’m going to be fine, thanks to him and those doctors in Billings. I can take care of myself and Selene, finally, and you can have a life of your own.”
“You stop that,” Sassy chided. “I love you. Nothing I do for you, or Selene, is a chore.”
“Yes, but you’ve had a ready-made family up until now,” Mrs. Peale said softly. “It’s limited your social life.”
“My social life is just dandy, thanks.”
The older woman grinned. “I’ll say! Wait until John gets back. He’s got a surprise waiting for you.”
“Has he, really?” Sassy wondered if it was the surprise the attorney had just shared with her. She was too sick to care, but she couldn’t let on. Her mother was so happy. It would be cruel to dash all her hopes and reveal the truth about the young man Mrs. Peale idolized.
“He has! Don’t you stay up too late. You’re looking peaked, dear.”
“I’m just tired. We’ve been putting up tons of stock in the feed store,” she lied. She smiled. “Good night, Mama.”
“Good night, dear. Sleep well.”
As if, Sassy thought as she closed the door. She gave up on paperwork a few minutes later and went to bed. She cried herself to sleep.
John walked into the feed store a day later, back from an unwanted but urgent business trip to Colorado. He spotted Sassy at the counter and walked up to it with a beaming smile.
She looked up and saw him, and he knew it was all over by the expression on her face. She was apprehensive, uncomfortable. She fidgeted and could barely meet his intent gaze.
He didn’t even bother with preliminary questions. His eyes narrowed angrily. “Who told you?” he asked tersely.
She drew in a breath. He looked scary like that. Now that she knew who he really was, knew the power and fame behind his name, she was intimidated. This man could write his own ticket. He could go anywhere, buy anything, do anything he liked. He was worlds away from Sassy, who lived in a house with a leaky roof. He was like a stranger. The smiling, easygoing cowboy she thought he was had become somebody totally different.
“It was the assistant district attorney,” she said in a faint tone. “He came to see me. Mr. Tarleton was going to insinuate that you were jealous of him and forced me to file a complaint…”
He exploded. “I’ll get attorneys in here who will put him away for the rest of his miserable life,” he said tersely. He looked as if he could do that single-handed.
“No!” She swallowed. “No. Please. Think what it would do to Mama if a whole bunch of reporters came here to cover the story because of…because of who you are,” she pleaded. “Stress makes everything so much worse for her.”
He looked at her intently. “I hadn’t thought about that,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“Mr. Addy says that Mr. Tarleton will probably agree to plead guilty or no contest to the sexual assault charge.” She sighed. “There’s a fine and jail time. He was willing to prosecute on the harder charge, but there would have to be proof that he did more than just kiss me and handle me…”
He frowned. He knew what she meant. A jury would be unlikely to convict for sexual assault and battery on an unwanted kiss and some groping, and how could they prove that Tarleton had intended much more? It made him angry. He wanted the man to go to prison. But Mrs. Peale would pay the price. In her delicate condition, it would probably kill her to have to watch Sassy go through the trial, even if she didn’t get to court. John’s name would guarantee news interest. Just the same, he was going to have a word with Mr. Addy. Sassy never had to know.
“How is your mother?” he asked.
“She’s doing very well,” she replied, her tone a little stilted. He did intimidate her now. “The treatments have left her a little anemic and weak, and there’s some nausea, but they gave her medicine for that.” She didn’t add that it was bankrupting her to pay for it. She’d already had to pawn her grandfather’s watch and pistol to manage a month’s worth. She wasn’t admitting that.
“I brought her some chocolates,” he told her. He smiled gently. “She likes the Dutch ones.”
She was staring at him with wide, curious eyes. “You’ll spoil her,” she replied.
He shrugged. “So? I’m rich. I can spoil people if I want to.”
“Yes, I know, but…”
“If you were rich, and I wasn’t,” he replied solemnly, “would you hesitate to do anything you could for me, if I was in trouble?”
“Of course not,” she assured him.
“Then why should it bother you if I spoil your mother a little? Especially, now, when she’s had so much illness.”
“It doesn’t, really. It’s just—” She stopped dead. The color went out of her face as she stared at him and suddenly realized how much he’d done for them.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“There was no grant to pay for that surgery, and the treatments,” she said in a choked tone. “You paid for it! You paid for it all!”
CHAPTER TEN
JOHN grimaced. “Sassy, there was no other way,” he said, trying to reason with her. She looked anguished. “Your mother would have died. I checked your company insurance coverage when I had Buck put you on the payroll as assistant manager. It didn’t have a major medical option. I told Buck to shop around for a better plan, but your mother’s condition went critical before we could find one.”
She knew her heart was going to beat her to death. She’d never be able to pay him back, not even the interest on the money he’d spent on her mother. She’d been poor all her life, but she’d never felt it like this. It had never hurt so much.
“You’re part of my life now,” he said softly. “You and your
mother and Selene. Of course I was going to do all I could for you. For God’s sake, don’t try to reduce what we feel for each other to dollars and cents!”
“I can’t pay you back,” she groaned.
“Have I asked you to?” he returned.
“But…” she protested, ready for a long battle.
The door opened behind them and Theodore Graves, the police chief walked in. His lean face was set in hard lines. He nodded at John and approached Sassy.
He pushed his Stetson back over jet-black hair. “That assistant district attorney, Addy, said you agreed to let Tarleton plea bargain to a lesser charge,” he said. “He won’t discuss the case with me and I can’t intimidate him the way I intimidate most people. So I’d like to know why.”
She sighed. He made her feel guilty. “It’s Mama,” she told him. “He—” she indicated John “—is very well-known. If it goes to court, reporters will show up to find out why he’s mixed up in a sexual assault case. Mama will get stressed out, the cancer will come back, and we’ll bury her.”
Graves grimaced. “I hadn’t thought about that. About the stress, I mean.” He frowned. “What do you mean, he’s well-known?” he added, indicating John. “He’s a ranch foreman.”
“He’s not,” Sassy said with a long sigh. “He’s John Callister.”
Graves lifted a thick, dark eyebrow. “Of the Callister ranching empire over in Medicine Ridge?”
John lifted a shoulder. “Afraid so.”
“Oh, boy.”
“Listen, at least he’ll have a police record,” Sassy said stubbornly. “Think about it. Do you really want a media circus right here in Hollister? Mr. Tarleton would probably love it,” she added miserably.
“He probably would,” Graves had to agree. He stuck his hands into his slacks pockets. “Seventy-five years ago, we’d have turned him out into the woods and sent men with guns after him.”
“Civilized men don’t do things like that,” Sassy reminded him. “Especially policemen.”
Graves shrugged. “So sue me. I never claimed to be civilized. I’m a throwback.” He drew in a long breath. “All right, as long as the polecat gets some serious time in the slammer, I can be generous and put up the rope I just bought.”