Redress of Grievances

by Brenda Adcock

  "Do you know where she went to college?"

  "Texas Women's up in Denton," Lou said, glancing at her watch again. "Anything else? Sorry, but we go to press in less than an hour."

  "No problem. Did Sharon ever get a chance, maybe at her high school, to get involved in theater again?"

  "I never heard her mention it. Closest she ever got was their mock trial team. She called me and asked if I would write a human-interest story on them once. It's like a real trial with a judge and jury. Apparently court etiquette and presentation are more important than actually winning the case. It was interesting, and a few of those kids were actually better than some real lawyers I've seen in action."

  "You knew her before her marriage?"

  Staring intently at her cup, Lou nodded. "Yeah. She was a different woman back then."

  "How was that?"

  "She used to know how to have fun. She only married Frank to get away from Clarissa anyway," Lou said as she shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

  "How did you get along with Frank Taggart?"

  "He's an asshole," Lou answered as Wayne watched the muscles along her jaw tightened.

  "He seemed okay when I spoke to him," Wayne shrugged, waiting for Lou's reaction.

  Her eyes were flashing as they met Wayne's. "He's a fucking imbecile who mentally abused her. Probably physically, too, for all I know. You didn't know her before...before he destroyed her spirit."

  "Tell me how she was."

  Lifting her cup to her lips, Lou said, "It doesn't matter any more. She made her choice. I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't listen."

  "Were you and Sharon lovers?"

  The look in Lou's eyes changed from anger to sadness as she took a deep breath and exhaled. "Like I already said, Mr. Graham, it doesn't matter any more."

  "Do you know the rest of her family?"

  "I met them a couple of times. Her dad's okay, her mom's too concerned about how others perceive her to be worth much. Sharon and I actually argued about her brother once. She wasn't too happy with an editorial I wrote about him and let me know it," Lou chuckled. "For a while it was like the old Sharon had been resurrected."

  "I'm guessin' you didn't give him a ringing endorsement," Wayne smiled.

  "He's a hack who gets by on his looks and charm. Hell, my dog knows more about the problems of this senatorial district than he does. But the voters don't really care as long as the candidate looks good while he's lying out his ass."

  "When was the last time you saw Sharon?"

  "About a year ago, I think. She called me out of the blue, crying. Said she needed help."

  "What was her problem?"

  "After Laurel was born, Sharon seemed more unhappy than usual. When I got to her house, she wanted me to take her to the Dallas Mental Health Center." Clearing her throat Lou said, "She said the kids were driving her crazy, and she was afraid she might hurt one of them."

  "Did you take her?"

  "Of course. We signed in and waited around for a couple of hours before anyone would talk to her."

  "Did they help her?"

  "Hell, no. Someone came out and told her they didn't deal with postpartum problems, and she should see her regular physician for an anti-depressant. But as far as I know she never did. Like I said, that was the last time I saw her. I figured she worked it out." Looking at her wristwatch, Lou stood up and tucked the back of her shirt further into the waistband of her slacks. "Look, Mr. Graham, I really do have a deadline in less than an hour."

  Wayne drained his cup and tossed it in the trash as they walked out of the break room. "I appreciate your help, Lou."

  Stopping momentarily Lou looked at Wayne. "How is Sharon?"

  "Holdin' up okay so far, I guess."

  "If you see her, tell her...tell her I hope everything works out for her. She deserves a break."

  Unlocking his car door, Wayne took a deep breath and squinted up into the growing heat of the Texas afternoon before settling into his car and returning to his hotel room.

  Chapter Sixteen

  DESPITE THE SUNNY cloudless blue sky overhead, a biting wind smacked into his face, making him pull the collar of the lightweight jacket up to cover his neck. He felt like shit and hadn't slept worth a damn the night before. It had been a long time, and the air smelled different as it blew through the chain link in front of him. He smiled benignly and waited while the final paperwork changed hands, needing only one last signature.

  The old man had kicked off a couple of years earlier. He hoped he had suffered when he keeled over a few minutes after the board meeting. His attorney told him that money had been transferred into a trust. He fingered the bank card in his pocket and smiled. The old man had always been generous to a fault, believing he could buy his son's love. And he had been right. He loved his father's money, and he had been making plans for years to put it to good use.

  He closed his eyes and saw her face in his mind, wondering how much she had changed since the last time he had stared into her eyes. He had seen the hint of fear in them and that was all he ever needed. Just that fleeting hint of fear in her eyes had kept him going for nearly twelve years. He had promised her he would drop by for a visit, and now dear old Dad had given him the means to do that.

  He was jerked away from his thoughts by the sound of metal scraping and watched as the security gate slid open. Just outside the gate, a black and yellow cab sat idling. He would spend his first night of freedom fucking and drinking. Then it would be time to get on with the plans he had been making and storing in his mind for too long. She was waiting for him. He wanted her to suffer, but not all at once or too quickly.

  Glancing up at the two-story red-bricked guard tower, he smiled as he stepped through the gate.

  Chapter Seventeen

  AT HARRIETT'S REQUEST, Wayne, working through Winston and Dunne, made arrangements for Sharon to meet with members of her family and videotaped the meetings over a two-day period. Early the following Monday morning, he gathered up the videos and his notes, checked out of the Hyatt and headed for Austin, arriving before noon.

  Harriett came out of her office and hugged Wayne warmly.

  "Nice place, kiddo," Wayne noticed. "Beats that antiseptic cell you called an office at Winston and Dunne."

  "Got anything interesting for me?" Harriett asked as she looked down at the box he was carrying.

  Before Wayne could answer, a man came briskly down the hall toward them. "Do we have a sewing needle around here, Harriett?" the man asked. "I just popped a damn button on my shirt."

  "Phyllis probably has one. Nick, this is Wayne Graham. Wayne, Nick Lazslo, my law partner."

  Nick smiled, extending his hand to Wayne. "I've heard a lot about you, Mr. Graham."

  Taking Nick's hand, Wayne noticed the man's friendly open face with deep blue eyes behind his wire rimmed glasses. "Well, you can't believe everything Harriett says."

  "You mean you're not really Superman, Dick Tracy, and father confessor combined?"

  Wayne laughed. "But then again sometimes she does tell the truth."

  "Wayne has been looking into the Taggart case for me," Harriett said.

  "Great!" Nick said. "I hope you found something Harriett can use. This is going to be a rough one, I'm afraid."

  Nick's concern seemed genuine, and Wayne liked his openness.

  "Why don't you sit in while Wayne shows me what he has?" Harriett asked.

  "Let me find a needle and thread first. I'll be there in a minute."

  Wayne followed Harriett into her office and set the box on her desk.

  "Nice guy," he observed.

  "He's an excellent attorney, too. I was lucky when he agreed to join me. What do we have here?"

  "Interview summaries and videos of your client at work and with her family."

  "Does Sharon know you videotaped her?"

  "No, but I don't think she'll sue you over it. Especially if you get her off."

  "I wouldn't put much money on that," Harr
iett said as she read the labels on the videos.

  Reaching into the box, Wayne dropped two stacks of papers on the desk. "These are copies of some materials I found in her filing cabinet, and a list of books on her bookshelf. Pretty interesting reading, if you're a lawyer."

  When Nick entered Harriett's office, she was reading the interview statements. "Have you seen the videos, Wayne?" she asked.

  "Yep."

  "Got an opinion?"

  "You ain't paying me for my opinion, kiddo."

  Looking at him, she smiled. "I trust your opinion. What do you think?"

  "The cops didn't make any mistakes on this one. The evidence is pretty convincing. I think she shot at those cars and caused the accidents that killed the people in them. It's kind of interesting that none of the cars had passengers, almost like she picked ones with only a driver. Three others survived though, so I guess you could say she didn't mean for anyone to get killed."

  Nick stood behind Harriett and picked up the evidence inventory sheet.

  "Pretty impressive evidence," he said. "Gun, ammo, fingerprints, powder residue, an eyewitness, and no alibi. Too bad you're not the prosecutor."

  "The only thing missing is a motive," Wayne said.

  "They don't need a motive for a conviction. Is she nuts?" Nick asked.

  "Not from what I've observed. Just confused," Harriett shrugged.

  "Claiming a memory loss?"

  "No. Claiming categorically that she didn't do it even in the face of all this evidence," Harriett frowned.

  "When did the shootings start?"

  "About a year and a half ago," Harriett said.

  "I think you're going to find that a lot happened about a year and a half or two years ago," Wayne said. "Everyone I've talked to has made some reference to that time period. That she changed around then in some way, but they weren't very specific about what the change was."

  "What did the people you spoke to say about that time?" Harriett asked.

  "Her principal said Sharon had a falling out with another teacher about a year or so ago. Other teachers said she became suddenly withdrawn around the same time. Two years ago she had her second kid, and a friend said it affected Sharon somehow. She became distant and began cutting herself off from everyone. Was depressed enough to seek help at a mental health clinic. It's sort of a common thread running through the interviews. Plus, I think you might find my interview with Louise Harmon interesting. She didn't come right out and say so, but I'd bet my pension that she and Sharon were lovers."

  "Her mother said she once suspected that Sharon was a lesbian."

  "Could be bi," Wayne shrugged.

  "Let's see a movie," Harriett said. "Sorry I can't offer you any popcorn."

  Wayne picked up a video and slid it into a TV-VCR combination on Harriett's bookcase.

  "Who's this?" Harriett asked.

  "The husband," Wayne said as the video flickered and began. "It's the most useful tape."

  Nick closed the blinds behind Harriett's desk before taking a seat.

  Frank Taggart was waiting in a spouse's visiting room as Sharon was brought in.

  "Nice looking woman," Nick observed.

  Sharon took a seat across from her husband and asked, "How are the kids?"

  "How do you expect them to be with their mother in jail?"

  Sharon smiled slightly. "Dad brought them to see me a couple of days ago."

  "If I'd known what he was going to do, they wouldn't have gotten out of the house."

  "I met them in another room, not here."

  "What did you tell them?"

  "That I'd be home soon and not to worry. We just talked about what they were doing in day care mostly, and they brought some pictures they drew for me."

  "The shit's gonna hit the fan soon, Sharon. When the trial starts, it'll be in the papers. People will ask the kids questions."

  "You have to keep them away from all that, Frank. It's a mistake."

  "You know, you've done some dumb shit stuff before, but even I can't believe you're stupid enough to do something like this. How do you think it makes me look?"

  Sharon didn't speak and looked away from her husband. For a moment, the video camera caught her face, causing Harriett to sit up and watch the video intently.

  "Since you're not the one sitting in jail, I'd say you're looking pretty damn good, Frank. Is that why you're here? So I can feel sorry for you? We have to face this together."

  "We haven't done anything together in years."

  "When I get out of here, maybe we should see a counselor."

  "You wouldn't go the last time."

  "I don't mean a sex therapist. A family counselor."

  "We wouldn't have problems if you didn't protect that pussy of yours like it was one of the crown jewels. If it wasn't for that, we wouldn't have any problems."

  "Can we have a conversation just once without you bringing up sex?"

  "Look, Sharon, I'm sorry you're in here, but I don't think a therapist or a counselor is going to help us. I'll stick with you through the trial, but I've already spoken to an attorney about a divorce."

  "When did you do that?"

  "A month ago. Before this mess."

  Sharon leaned forward on the table, "Before or after you raped me?"

  Frank laughed derisively, "Shit, girl! I never raped you."

  "I'm sorry, Frank. You're right. Was it before or after you 'fucked me for my own good?'" The forcefulness behind her statement surprised Harriett, and she glanced at Wayne and Nick to see their reactions.

  "It didn't hurt you none," Frank Taggart said.

  "Well, what woman wouldn't enjoy having your dick shoved up her ass?"

  "You didn't say nothing about it, and I know you came. If I could've gotten to what I wanted to begin with, I wouldn't have been forced into that," Frank shrugged. Leaning closer to Sharon, he lowered his voice. "Besides, now that we've done it that way, I kinda liked it. When you get out of here maybe I'll give it another shot."

  "You won't get the chance. Do it to whoever the hell you're seeing behind my back."

  "Already did, and she loved it."

  Sharon stood up abruptly. "Get the hell out of here! And don't do me any favors by coming back."

  "When I go, the kids go with me. If you get out and want to keep seeing Kevin and Laurel, you'll give it up any time I want it. Otherwise, I hope you can remember what their faces look like."

  Sharon swung her fist to strike Frank, but he grabbed her arm and twisted it, forcing her to turn her back to him. As Harriett, Wayne and Nick watched, Frank Taggart held Sharon from behind, fondling her as she struggled to get away from him.

  "Relax, baby," Frank said. "This is supposed to be a conjugal visit."

  "Please don't, Frank," Sharon said. Although the quality of the video shot through the two-way mirror was not the best, Harriett could see tears running down Sharon Taggart's cheeks.

  "Uh-uh. To tell you the truth, it turns me on when you put up a fight. Feel that," he said as he pulled her closer against him.

  "Let me go, you bastard!" Sharon seethed as she attempted to thrash around in Frank's arms.

  Ignoring her, Frank led her toward a cell cot next to the wall and forced her down onto it. Releasing her, Frank ordered Sharon to remove her orange coveralls. For an interminable minute Sharon became quiet and stared at Frank as he stood over her. Then a smile crossed her lips as she pulled down the zipper on the front of the coveralls, sitting up to let them fall away from her shoulders.

  "I've seen enough," Harriett said.

  "No," Wayne said. "Wait. The best part is coming up."

  "Other than being a very poor choice of words, Wayne, I don't have any desire to watch a rape. This is in the county jail, for Christ's sake. Where the hell are the guards?"

  "Just wait, okay?"

  Harriett forced herself to look at the television scene again. Sharon had gotten up and unfastened her bra, exposing well-developed breasts to her husband.


  "Is this what you want, Frank?" Sharon asked softly as she touched herself seductively.

  "You know it is," he answered.

  Sharon moved toward him, still smiling, moving her eyes up and down his body. "You wanna fuck me, baby?"

  Frank seemed dumbfounded as she pressed her body against his.

  "I want you to fuck me."

  "Why do you always play this stupid game, Sharon?"

  She kissed his neck and ran her tongue around his ear. "Because I like it, and I know how much it turns you on."

  Sharon raised herself on her toes and drew Frank's mouth to hers until they melted together.

  "Watch this," Wayne said over his shoulder.

  Sharon's hand found the zipper on Frank's pants and pulled it down. Frank Taggart was lost in whatever he was feeling and was oblivious to his wife's hand as it wandered along his crotch. Finally she slipped her hand into his pants. As he felt her hand, Frank looked at Sharon and smiled. The smile left his face abruptly, replaced by pain.

  "What the hell are you doing, Sharon? That hurts."

  "I'm just showing you how much I love you, baby. It won't hurt you any. You might even like it," she purred.

  "Stop it, goddammit!" Frank yelled.

  "Uh-uh," Sharon said. "Just relax, Frank."

  This time it was Taggart trying to get away from his wife.

  "Don't move, Frank. You'll hurt yourself if you struggle. If I slip, I might accidentally rip a hole in one of these balls you're so proud of."

  Frank stopped moving, but there was still pain on his face. Sharon pulled him closer to her.

  "Look at me, Frank," Sharon ordered. When he failed to do so, a slight movement of her hand inside his pants resulted in his immediate obedience.

  "Do I have your complete attention, Frankie boy?"

  Frank nodded and looked at Sharon.

  "You're never going to hurt her again. And if you even think about taking off with her kids, I'll hunt you down and kill you like the motherfuckin' animal you are. Understand?"

  Frank nodded again.

  "I missed those other people because I wanted to miss them, but you know what a good shot I am. I won't miss you. If she'd let me, I'd rip your balls out right now and get it over with."