Giving his crotch one final squeeze that doubled him over, Sharon released Frank and pushed him away from her. Calmly, she slipped her bra and coveralls back on.
"You'll recover, Frank. This time. I'll have someone watching you and the kids, so don't think about doing anything stupid."
Sharon went to the door of the room and knocked, stepping back to wait for a guard to open the door.
Wayne stopped the tape. "Did you catch that last part?" he asked.
"Yeah, rewind it a little," Harriett said.
The three of them watched the last segment two more times before turning the tape off.
"What do you make of that?" Harriett asked Wayne and Nick.
"I'd like to know who 'her' is," Nick said.
"What are you thinkin'?" Wayne asked.
"I'm thinking that I don't know whom I just saw on that tape," Harriett answered. "I've met with Sharon Taggart. Except for being fixated on her children, she was nothing like the woman I just saw."
"What about the husband?" Nick asked. "You met him, too, didn't you?"
"His behavior doesn't surprise me. He mentioned their sex life wasn't as good as he wanted it to be."
"You think he raped her?"
"Sounds like he might have. I'd sure like to know exactly when that happened."
"Well, I don't think good ole Frank is gonna tell you," Wayne said.
"All he told me was that they had a fight, and he went to bed and fell asleep on January eighteenth. According to him, Sharon was home when he went to bed and when he woke up the next morning. I wonder if that was the night he raped her."
"You gonna ask Sharon?"
"Unless you can find a peeping Tom who might have seen what happened."
"You think your client's crazy?" Nick asked.
"I don't know if she's crazy, but I know she's guilty. The only chance she'll have is an insanity plea and a change of venue. Either way, we need the change of venue. How much press is the case getting in Dallas?"
"Not too bad."
"I need for it to pick up before I make my motion, Wayne."
"Okay. Give me a call at the Hyatt tomorrow about what you're planning on doing about the change of plea," Wayne said as he sat up and rubbed his face.
"And keep an eye on Riley and what he's doing. I don't want anymore of that 'it's just come to our attention' crap. If Lassiter and Riley are holding out on us, I want to know about it."
"When are you going to be back in Dallas?"
"Book me a room at the Hyatt for Wednesday through Friday, will you?"
Harriett was in the kitchen opening a Diet Coke when Nick joined her. She smiled when she saw him. Despite Nick's professorial look, she liked having him around. He always had a clear head about the law and was absolutely incorruptible.
"How's your case load, Nick?" she asked.
"I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, thank God," he said as he retrieved a soft drink from the refrigerator.
"I might need your help. I'm requesting a change of venue for the Taggart case."
"To Travis County?"
"Uh-huh."
"Publicity problems, I suppose."
"If Wayne does his job right, there will be soon."
"Want to put something together this evening?"
"If you don't have other plans."
"Well, I was planning to water my plants tonight, but I guess they can survive one more day," Nick smiled. "Listen, have you thought any more about speaking to my class at the law school?"
"I'm not that good a lecturer, Nick."
"You're the best criminal attorney I know. With your experience you have a lot of valuable things to tell them. They all think they're Matlock."
"If we get a change of venue, I guess I'll owe you."
"I'll see how that comes out before I set a date for you. Let's get busy. When do you want to file the motion?"
"In a few days. Probably Thursday. I'm going back to Dallas Wednesday afternoon."
"Tell you what. I'm winding up my last pending case tomorrow. Maybe I'll go with you. Haven't ever been to Big D."
"I'll have Wayne book you a room."
Chapter Eighteen
"I DON'T KNOW why I let you talk me into this, Helen," Harriett said.
"Because you need to get out and socialize at least once a year," Helen said with a smile.
"I'm not sure cruising the club scene qualifies as socializing," Harriett responded. "I'm leaving town tomorrow, and I haven't even packed yet."
"What the hell, Harriett," Helen shrugged. "We won't be out that late. Besides, I'm your shrink, and I'm telling you that you need to relax a little before you get any deeper into this new case you've taken on."
"I can't stay out too late, or I'll be a menace on the highway tomorrow." Harriett knew that Helen enjoyed going out to the clubs while Erik was perfectly content sitting at home with a good book. She hated that she might have to cut the evening short.
"This is the best gay country-western club in the city," Helen said as they approached The Corral on Austin's famous, or infamous, Sixth Street. "And I know how much you love to dance."
"Not that I get many chances to do that any more," Harriett replied. Her single status had never worried Harriett as much as it had Helen. She had chosen to let her life revolve around raising Lacey and establishing her legal practice to the virtual exclusion of her own personal life.
"Didn't get to dance with Alex while you were in Dallas, I'd guess," Helen said knowingly.
"Alex is the past," Harriett said quietly.
"Yeah, right," Helen said as she pulled open the front door to The Corral.
The loud beats of a song by Brooks and Dunn crashed into the two women as they stood for a moment to let their eyes adjust to the dim lighting inside the club.
"IDs, ladies," a cowboy with a large dark bushy moustache said loudly.
Both women pulled driver's licenses from the pockets of their jeans and held them out for the man to examine.
"Good to see you again, Dr. Mortensen," he smiled, with amazingly white teeth showing beneath his moustache.
"Looks like a pretty good crowd for a Tuesday night, Tommy," Helen smiled back.
"Not bad, but give it an hour, and all the dykes comin' from the ladies basketball game will show up. Then things will really be jumpin'. Enjoy yourselves ladies," he said before stopping the next group coming through the doors.
An hour passed quickly as Harriett and Helen danced two or three dances with each other as well as other women. Finally, they sat at a table to catch their breath and enjoy a much needed drink. Harriett wasn't much of a drinker, but dancing and a cold beer seemed to go together like a good meal and fine wine.
"See any interesting possibilities?" Helen asked, between sips of her beer.
"Not likely anyone would find a meaningful relationship in a bar," Harriett laughed.
Placing her hand over Harriett's, Helen said, "Sometimes a passing fancy is better than nothing."
Harriett frowned at her friend's implication. "Is that what you think I need, Helen? A quick lay?"
"I didn't say that. But now that you mention it, it couldn't hurt. "
"Some psychologist you are," Harriett smiled.
"Sex relieves tension, and you're wound pretty tight right now. How long has it been since you were with someone, Harriett?"
"Longer than I care to think about, but tonight I plan to relieve my tension by dancing."
She watched couples moving around the crowded floor and enjoyed watching the women together. They ran the gamut of proficiency from barely able to move to exhibitionists. She was amazed at some of the women who were together. As her eyes scanned the crowd, she noticed one couple in particular. They seemed comfortable together and moved gracefully around the floor, adeptly avoiding the other couples who seemed intent on intercepting them. The taller woman was dressed in well fitting light blue jeans and a loose fitting, long sleeved white Oxford shirt. She was at least five nine or ten, w
ith broad shoulders and an athletic build. She was obviously not afraid to stand erect and didn't try to hide her height. The lights from the spinning light ball overhead caught her short amber hair and made it sparkle. She wore steel-rimmed glasses and had an easy smile. The women moved so fluidly together that it seemed to Harriett that they must have been dancing together for a long time. Her partner, a graceful, slender blonde with long hair, was four or five inches shorter, but they both carried themselves with an elegant flair that naturally drew attention to them.
"They're very good, aren't they?" Helen interjected.
"They're amazing," Harriett nodded.
"So which one do you prefer? The femme or the butch?"
Looking at Helen and smiling slowly, Harriett answered, "You know I have a weakness for tall, athletic butches."
"That would have been my guess," Helen laughed.
When the music ended the two women on the floor hugged briefly and parted company. Harriett watched as the shorter woman left the floor and walked to a group of women seated near the back of the room. The taller woman made her way to the bar and placed an order. Carrying a single bottle of water, she joined another group at a table, talking and taking large gulps of her water.
"Well, maybe they aren't a couple after all," Harriett said. "Hard to tell sometimes."
"Let's dance," Helen said as a slower song began. "Finally something more my speed."
HE WATCHED FROM the shadows at the far end of the front bar, nursing the same drink he's had since he followed them inside. It was a decent enough bar and a beer was a beer. No one had approached him and that was fine with him. It wasn't really his scene, but he wanted a chance to observe Harriett. She had been attractive eleven years ago, and it pissed him off that she hadn't changed much over the years. Her life had gone on as if nothing had happened. When his keepers had begun trusting him a little, he had followed any news he could find about Harriett Markham. She had managed to keep a pretty low profile but wasn't invisible. The last article he found about her included a photograph. She had attended a political fund-raiser accompanied by her niece. In fact, he had barely noticed Harriett at all. But the niece was definitely someone he would like to get closer to. Much closer. He could almost feel her long legs wrapped around him as he pictured the blonde's body moving rhythmically and sensuously beneath his. He closed his eyes so his mind could process nothing but the feeling of indescribable pleasure his body was experiencing. Just the thought of the possibilities made him painfully hard.
HARRIETT AND HELEN wove through the crowd onto the floor and joined other women who had obviously waited for slower tunes, so they could dance closer to their chosen partner. As they made their way easily around in the perpetual circle, Harriett noticed the tall woman watching the dancers on the floor. For a second or two, she seemed to be watching them, and their eyes met briefly, a slow smile making its way across the woman's lips.
When the music wound down, Harriett and Helen left the floor and headed back to their table. As soon as they were seated, Harriett took another drink as she waited for the next song to begin. The music started slowly, but she recognized it. Shania Twain's "You've Got a Way" had been one of her favorite songs since it first came out.
"I love this song," she smiled.
"Then would you like to dance?" a voice behind her asked.
She turned and looked up at the woman she had seen dancing earlier. She looked at Helen, who laughed. "You go, girl!"
The woman held her hand out to Harriett, and it was warm to the touch when she took it. Leading Harriett to the dance floor, the woman seemed to be dancing before they blended with the other couples. As soon as they were on the floor, she spun Harriett into her arms and moved confidently onto the steps. She was a skillful lead and, holding Harriett close, guided her wherever she wanted her to go. Harriett hadn't danced with anyone who could lead so well in many years and felt comfortable being held closely by the woman, finding the light scent of her cologne intoxicating. As the final refrain of the song faded away, the woman smiled and held Harriett's arm up to spin her around one last time before walking her back to her table.
"Thank you," Harriett smiled. "I enjoyed that very much."
"My pleasure," the woman smiled back. Nodding to Helen, the woman moved away.
"Y'all looked great together out there," Helen beamed.
"She's a wonderful dancer," Harriett said.
"What's her name?"
Harriett looked at her blankly and made a face. "I don't know. We just danced."
"Boy, you have been out of circulation too damn long," Helen laughed.
"She didn't ask my name, either," Harriett shrugged. "Maybe she just likes to dance."
"So go ask her to dance again. Won't hurt my feelings one little bit. Unless, of course, you don't have the guts," Helen dared.
"Maybe I will," Harriett grinned, accepting the challenge. "Can you request a song here?"
"If you tip the DJ about five bucks," Helen said as she picked up her long neck bottle.
Twenty minutes later, Harriett approached the tall woman who was leaning against the edge of the bar. "Excuse me, I've requested a song. Would you care for another dance?"
The woman smiled at Harriett and shrugged, "Sure."
"I'm sorry, but I didn't catch your name," Harriett said.
"Jess. And yours?"
"Harriett. Shall we?" Harriett asked extending her hand as "Shut Up and Kiss Me" began.
"Good choice," Jess laughed.
Harriett smiled. "Do you shuffle?"
"I think I can manage," Jess said.
Harriett and Jess made the song theirs. As Helen watched them together, she smiled to herself. Even if Harriett never met the woman again, she was having a temporary affair right there on the dance floor. They both seemed to be enjoying themselves as Harriett moved gracefully through the quick spins and turns of the dance. Helen had always known that Harriett was a sensual woman who had managed to suppress her personal life for the sake of her niece and professional appearances. This was the real Harriett, laughing and open, unafraid to be herself. All she needed was someone to share her life. Helen wasn't sure that someone was Alexis Dunne.
When the song ended, Harriett led the woman back to their table.
"Helen, this is Jess. Jess, this is my friend, Helen. She's straight," Harriett said.
"I'm sorry," Jess laughed as she shook Helen's hand.
"Sometimes so am I," Helen chuckled.
Jess held Harriett's chair as she was seated and was half seated herself when a beeper chirped. Jess reached for a pager clipped to her belt and pressed the button.
"Well, ladies, my apologies, but duty calls. I enjoyed dancing with you, Harriett. And Helen, it was a pleasure to meet you," Jess said briefly. "Maybe I'll see you here again sometime."
Harriett watched as Jess walked away, the black lighting making her white shirt glow.
"Bummer," Helen sighed.
Chapter Nineteen
SHE WAS OBVIOUSLY drunk. And just as obviously underage. But she did look older than her seventeen years. He had learned a long time ago that it wasn't the looks that gave away their age. It was their actions, the uncertainty in their eyes, and most importantly, their desire to experience things girls of their age probably had never experienced before...except in the sexual fantasy world of their own minds or on the pages of a syrupy crotch throbbing romance.
It was easy for him to pass himself off as a member of the university set. He didn't think he looked his age, and he had worked hard to keep himself in excellent physical condition. Sometimes he sat in a dark back corner of a bar and watched, waiting for just the right girl, leaving alone. After all, he did have standards and knew exactly what he was searching for. It had to be perfect every time. Otherwise, why bother.
Tonight was going to be one of those perfect nights. He knew it while he was dressing, and he knew it now as he approached the young woman. She was apparently with friends. None of them males. Just a
giggly gaggle of girls, none of whom were sober enough to remember one man in a crowd of men. He approached the bar, standing next to the blonde, blue-eyed all-American girl wearing a UT sweatshirt and impossibly tight fitting pants. No underwear, he thought. Nice ass. He smiled at her as he ordered a drink. She smiled back at the interest in his eyes. Her giggling friends watched as the flirting began at the bar, moved to the dance floor, and finally disappeared out the door. A couple of mixed drinks on top of the beer she had already had made it so easy that he almost changed his mind. But Harriett had done this to him. Watching her with the woman at the bar earlier had made him unbelievably horny, driving him to seek out someone to play the lead in his fantasy.
Once they were inside the van, she hadn't left him much choice. She was eager and he was aroused. So what the hell? He would give her a night to remember, even though she would never be able to tell her friends about it.
Parking in an out of the way area of the campus, he pulled her into the back of the van, roughly pulling the sweatshirt over her head, exposing her supple breasts with their erect pink nipples. Her sexual inexperience was obvious, and he almost laughed at her attempts to be sexually sophisticated. The funny thing was it might have worked on someone younger and less experienced than he. When he finally tired of her inadequate efforts, he rolled her onto her back, staring at her, smiling beneath him. His hands slid up her body to her neck. Slowly squeezing his hands tighter, he waited for the look. The look that said she was ready for the ultimate sexual experience. After a few moments, he felt her hands on top of his, trying to loosen his grip. Her mouth opened, but no sound escaped. He felt her hands weaken and looked deeply into her wide eyes. There it was...the terror. Shifting his weight slightly between her legs, he continued staring into her eyes as he drove his erection quickly and deeply into her. Loosening his hands, he ground into her as she gasped for air, her semi-limp body being crushed beneath his. He held her arms down and let his body take over. Her body jerked violently and unexpectedly as he sank his teeth into her breasts, biting and sucking at them while his penis continued to slam into her again and again.
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