Redress of Grievances

by Brenda Adcock

  "You might find it interesting that Wilkes has requested you as his attorney again," Doug said. "I didn't think you'd mind if we turned the sonofabitch down on your behalf."

  "Incredible," she said.

  "He's retained the Snake," Alex said.

  "Lewis Sullivan?" Harriett asked.

  "Yeah," Doug said. "The scuttlebutt is that Sullivan is going to file an insanity plea."

  Harriett shook her head. "Jared Wilkes is sick, but he's not insane."

  "Well, that's out of our hands now," Doug shrugged.

  "I'd like my resignation to be effective at the end of the month. I'll clear up the cases I have pending and will probably have to reassign a few of them."

  "Let us know if there's anything we can do to help you, Harriett," Doug said patting her shoulder. "You know, I was looking forward to changing the sign on the door to Winston, Dunne, and Markham."

  "So was I, Doug," she said as she stood to conclude the meeting.

  Harriett was in the process of going through a stack of papers on her desk when Alex came into her office, instructing Eleanor to hold any calls. Going around the desk, she bent down and kissed the top of her head.

  "I don't want you to leave, Harriett. I love you."

  "This isn't about just you and me, Alex. There are others we have to consider."

  "I'll leave Gwen and go with you if that's what you want."

  Harriett stood up and walked away from her.

  "What good would that do, Alex? Everyone in Dallas will still know that I freed a killer to kill again. We both know you can't leave Dallas. The firm depends on you. I have to do what's best for me and for Lacey now."

  Alex pulled Harriett into her arms and held her tightly. "What will I do without you?"

  "Same thing I'll be doing. Wishing our lives had taken a different road."

  Harriett moved to Austin a month later, but kept up with the Wilkes case through the Dallas newspapers and began paying regular visits to a psychologist in Austin. By the time the Wilkes case was nearing its conclusion, she had begun coming to grips with something that was every attorney's nightmare. Without informing anyone, she made the decision to return to Dallas to observe the conclusion of the Wilkes case, timing her arrival to coincide with the return of the jury's verdict. Lewis Sullivan had presented an insanity plea based on the fact that Jared Wilkes suffered from multiple personality disorder. A string of expert witnesses had argued the case for weeks and now sat with their fingers crossed.

  When the jury forewoman announced the verdict of "not guilty by reason of mental disease or defect" she couldn't believe it. Although she was seated in the rear of the courtroom, she could see Wilkes's face clearly. For everyone's sake, she hoped he would spend the remainder of his life in a mental institution. As Jared stood to be hugged by his mother before being led away, he spotted Harriett in the back of the courtroom. When he was sure she was looking at him, he smiled and winked at her. He had gotten away with murder and wanted her to know it. The drive back to Austin seemed to take forever as Harriett tried to put as many miles between her and Jared Wilkes as possible.

  Chapter Eight

  HARRIETT COULD SEE her breath in the cold morning air as she shifted from one foot to another on the front porch of a restored two-story turn of the century house that sat on spacious grounds a few blocks from the State Capitol Building. She hadn't been able to sleep more than three or four hours the night before. Finally giving up the battle, she had quickly dressed and left her townhouse before the sun was up. She was being childish and even though she knew that, she needed to talk to Helen.

  When the front door opened, Helen Mortenson, a fifty-ish woman with silver hair, blinked into the sunlight that was just making its way over the horizon. "Harriett?"

  "Good morning, Helen. I'm really sorry to disturb you so early, but could we talk?" Harriett asked, clearing her throat slightly.

  "Of course, my dear." Swinging the door open wider, Helen pulled the belt of her robe tighter. "You look like you haven't slept a wink."

  Stepping onto the polished wooden floor of the home's foyer, Harriett looked around at the familiar surroundings. "I'm sorry if I woke you and Eric."

  Wrapping a chenille-clad arm around Harriett's shoulders, Helen said, "You didn't, dear. I was just making some coffee when I heard the doorbell. You look like you could use some, and I know I can."

  Harriett stood leaning against a kitchen counter, feeling a little self-conscious, as she waited for Helen to fill two large mugs with the steaming brown liquid. She had met Dr. Helen Mortenson soon after she had moved to Austin, and their friendship had been immediate. Still disturbed by her experiences in the Wilkes case, Harriett had sought help, and Helen's name had been the one her finger had landed on in the phone directory. Helen and her husband, Eric, had a successful practice in Austin and were considered two of the best psychologists in the state by their peers. Following her into her office, Harriett found the chair she had sat in many times while she had been in therapy.

  For a few minutes, neither woman spoke, and just as Harriett was finding the silence uncomfortable, she glanced at Helen who smiled benignly at her and tilted her head to the side in an unspoken question.

  "It's Wilkes," Harriett said softly into her mug.

  "Why now? It's been a long time."

  "A case from Dallas has been referred to me. I can't go into any detail about it, but the circumstances are so similar that I'm not sure I want to or even should consider taking it."

  "Do you want the case?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Is it a case where you can actually help the client?"

  "I don't know. They're waiting for my response," Harriett said. Looking at Helen she continued, "It was referred to me by Alex Dunne."

  "Ah, I see," Helen said as she set her mug on the table beside her. "That could complicate things a little. So is it the case you're reluctant to take or the idea of perhaps seeing Alex again?"

  "I've already seen her. She came to my office yesterday to refer the case on behalf of the client's family."

  "And how did you feel when you saw her again?"

  Taking a deep breath and blowing the air from her lungs, Harriett looked up at the ceiling. "I don't know. It was almost surreal."

  "That's bullshit and you know it, Harriett. How did you feel when you saw Alex?"

  "She was stunning, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?" Harriett snapped.

  "I want you to be honest with yourself about your feelings."

  "I'm sorry, Helen. Everything about her was almost exactly the way it was the last time I saw her. I felt...I don't know...happy, sad, regretful, angry. Maybe all of those."

  "But then there's the Wilkes thing."

  "Yeah, there is that. I should just turn the case down and let it all go away again."

  "But then you wouldn't get to see Alex. Isn't that what this is really all about?"

  "She's not with her partner any longer. They separated," Harriett answered while studying her hands.

  "Then she's available."

  "Yep," Harriett nodded.

  "Do you want to renew your relationship with her?"

  "I don't know, Helen, and that's the God's honest truth."

  "If you took the case, would that mean spending more time with Alex?"

  "I suppose, at least at first. It would be my case, and she wouldn't have any say in how I conducted it once I accepted."

  "I think we've hashed over the Wilkes problem as much as possible eleven years ago and resolved it. Alex is the only unresolved part of your life left."

  "She's never contacted me in those eleven years."

  "You chose to end it. Perhaps she accepted your decision even if you didn't fully."

  "I think it's been too damn long, Helen."

  "I think we need to go out for a night of honky-tonkin' and dancin'," Helen laughed. "We haven't done that in ages."

  "If I take this case, I'll be in Dallas for a few days for the pr
eliminaries," Harriett said as she stood.

  "Call me as soon as you get back. I'm getting that itchy foot thing, and you know how Eric is. Dynamite couldn't blast the man out of the house, bless his heart."

  Harriett hugged Helen warmly as they reached the front door. "Thank you, Helen. And give my apologies to Eric."

  "Not a problem. I do some of my best work early in the morning," Helen yawned.

  Chapter Nine

  ARRIVING HOME FOLLOWING her early morning visit with Dr. Mortenson, Harriett dialed the number for the Omni Hotel and asked to be connected to Alexis Dunne's room. She was on the verge of hanging up after several rings when Alex picked up the phone.

  "Hello," Alex answered, sounding slightly out of breath.

  "Alex, this is Harriett."

  "I was hoping I'd hear from you."

  "I'll speak to Sharon Taggart, but I won't make any promises."

  "I don't expect you to, Harriett. Listen, I was in the shower. Why don't you meet me at the airport, and I'll fly you to Dallas this morning."

  "No. I have a few things to clear up at my office. Nothing big, but I need to make sure I don't leave anyone in a lurch. I think I'd rather drive to Dallas anyway."

  "Shall I make a room reservation for you, or would you rather do that yourself, too?"

  There was a chill in Alex's voice Harriett hadn't heard before.

  "Just let my office know where you make the reservation. I'll probably be on the road by noon."

  There was a pause on the line before Alex spoke again, the edge no longer in her voice. "I'm sorry, Harriett. Would you mind if I rode to Dallas with you?" she finally asked.

  "Well, I...," Harriett started.

  "I could acquaint you with a little more about the case."

  "I suppose that would be all right," Harriett said hesitantly. "I'll call you when I'm ready to leave my office."

  "I'll meet you at your office after I check out."

  Harriett dressed in tan jeans and Ropers, pulled on a lightweight sweater, and packed enough clothes for a couple of days.

  Carrying her suitcase downstairs, she set it down in the front hallway before joining her niece in the kitchen. Lacey was reading the sports section of the newspaper as Harriett poured a cup of coffee.

  "Anything about your game in the paper?" she asked.

  Turning the paper toward her aunt, Lacey pointed to an article as she chewed a mouthful of cereal.

  "Better keep this for your scrapbook," Harriett smiled. "I have to go out of town for a couple days, Lace."

  "A case?"

  "In Dallas," she nodded as she sipped her coffee. "I might not take it but promised to speak to the defendant. Will you be okay here alone, or do you want me to call Grandma?"

  "I think I can handle a little alone time."

  "Remember the house rules, Lacey."

  "Can Devon come over while you're gone?"

  "I'm not real comfortable with that, honey."

  "You can trust me, Aunt Harriett. After all, I am eighteen now. An adult according to the law."

  "I do trust you. I'm just not as trusting of your boyfriend yet." Harriett smiled.

  As she looked at her niece, the thought of her growing up so fast saddened her.

  "If you need anything call Nick or Phyllis."

  "You're not going to ask them to drop by unexpectedly, are you?"

  Harriett laughed. "I've taught you right from wrong already. Now that you are an adult, at least in the eyes of the law, it's up to you to practice what I've been preaching all these years."

  Lacey carried her bowl to the sink and rinsed it out, stopping on her way out of the kitchen to kiss Harriett.

  "Have a good trip, and call so I know you got there in one piece, okay? I love you."

  AS SOON AS she was in her office, Phyllis came in carrying a mug of coffee and set it in front of her.

  "I'm going to Dallas for a couple of days, Phyllis. See if there's anything on my calendar that can't be pushed back until I return."

  "A case?"

  "Maybe. I'm conducting a preliminary interview to decide whether to take it."

  "Is it a big fat hairy one?"

  Harriett smiled at Phyllis. "The fattest and the hairiest."

  She spent the next hour and a half putting the finishing touches on a few briefs and the motion for a new trial for her homeless client and took them to Phyllis to be typed.

  "Make sure this motion reaches the Appeals Court by Monday," Harriett instructed Phyllis.

  "This the train trestle guy?"

  "Yeah. Kinda makes you glad you can afford to pay rent, doesn't it?"

  The front door opened, and Alexis Dunne walked in carrying a small suitcase.

  "I'll be with you in a moment, Alex," Harriett said. "Did Nick call in before he went to court this morning?" Harriett asked Phyllis.

  "Yes. His case is going to the jury this afternoon. Does he know you'll be out of town?"

  "I left a note on his desk. What about my appointments?"

  "I rescheduled them for next week. Let me know if I need to push them back further."

  "That shouldn't be necessary, but I'll call later to let you know where I'm staying."

  "She'll be at the Hyatt," Alex said. Taking a piece of paper from her pocket, she handed it to Phyllis. "That's the number for the hotel and the suite number."

  Phyllis smiled as she took the paper from Alex.

  "Well, I guess that's everything," Harriett said. "I told Lacey to call you or Nick if she needs anything."

  "Have a safe trip," Phyllis said.

  As Harriett climbed into the cab of her truck, she wasn't particularly looking forward to spending three or four hours in the truck with Alex. It wasn't that she hadn't thought about her former lover over the years. She simply wasn't sure what they would have to talk about.

  HARRIETT ACCELERATED ONTO Interstate 35 North and felt the truck shift smoothly into a higher gear. Glancing at the clock on the dashboard, she slid a CD into the truck stereo system. As she watched the traffic around her, she adjusted the volume control. Instrumental jazz flowed through the rear speakers, and she settled down in her captain's seat. The sun was shining brightly, and she pulled a pair of sunglasses from a case on her visor even though the tinting on the truck windows filtered out most of the road glare. The weather was warm for mid-February, and the air coming through the vents kept the truck cab comfortable. Between Austin and Georgetown, traffic was heavy, punctuated by frequent stops and starts. Alex had been silent since they left Austin, and Harriett could barely see her out of the corner of her eye. When Alex finally spoke, the sound of her voice surprised her.

  "I see you still enjoy jazz," Alex said.

  "I have some other CDs if you want to change it," Harriett said, knowing that Alex had never been particularly fond of jazz.

  "This is fine," Alex said, looking out the side window.

  "Want to tell me more about the case? We have a long way to go."

  "I lied to you at dinner, Harriett," Alex admitted. "Sharon Taggart's case is similar to the Wilkes case in a number of ways. Except that Jared Wilkes was a psychopath, and that's not the case with Sharon."

  "How did they catch her?"

  "A passerby claims to have seen her and remembered a partial plate number of a car at the scene of the last shooting. It took the police a while, but they narrowed down the description of the car and got lucky."

  "But she denies being the shooter."

  "Absolutely. But there's no doubt she had the weapon in her possession, and her fingerprints were the only ones on it. Sharon was an accomplished marksman in college. I believe she was on the rifle and pistol team there."

  "I'm not clear on how she shot them. Did she just walk up to them?" Harriett asked.

  "She didn't actually shoot anyone. She shot at them, but according to the medical examiner, no one was ever hit. All the victims died as a result of injuries after she fired. All of the shootings occurred on busy freeways, and the police
believe she shot at the vehicles."

  "So the victims killed themselves by their reaction to their vehicles being shot at."

  "Yes," Alex said. "There had been a number of incidents over the last couple of years in which motorists reported they had been shot at. Of all those incidents, four died. A couple of others were seriously injured but recovered. In fact, some of the charges against Sharon are actually attempted murder."

  "An interesting twist. Drivers killed by their own panic."

  "But since the shooter's actions were the proximate cause of the deaths, whoever was responsible can still face a murder charge."

  "Second degree at best. She may have planned to fire at the vehicles and not planned for anyone to be killed as a result," Harriett hypothesized. "It shouldn't result in the death penalty. Has the family considered a psychiatric evaluation?"

  Alex smiled slightly. "I'm surprised you would even mention that, considering Wilkes."

  "Even a first year attorney would have to request an examination. Is Sharon Taggart intelligent enough to fool a shrink?"

  "She's extremely bright."

  "What about her family? How supportive are they?"

  "Very. But I can tell you up front that you probably aren't going to care for Frank Taggart, the husband."

  "Why?"

  "He's kind of a smart-ass. Parker can't stand him, and I'm sure Sharon's parents only tolerate him because he's married to their daughter."

  "What does he do for a living?"

  "He's a mechanic for one of the Dallas car dealerships."

  Harriett looked at Alex and grinned. "Bet that went over well with the country club crowd."

  "I thought Sharon's mother, Clarissa, was going to have a stroke," Alex laughed. "No one's ever figured out why Sharon married him. Probably to get away from Clarissa, but you didn't hear that from me. It isn't fair for me to give you my opinions of these people, Harriett. My judgments shouldn't cloud your feelings about them."