He felt her struggling under him and looked into her eyes again and smiled. He knew he could continue for hours. She was recovering some of her strength, but was still disabled by alcohol. He stopped and withdrew from her, remaining on top. He still had an erection. She was begging him to let her go, but it was too late. He knew how this had to end. He knew there was only one way he would ever be satisfied. He needed that look...one more time.
He ran his hands down her arms to her breasts. The tender skin was already beginning to bruise. He kissed each one softly, his hands moving to her throat. She realized what he was going to do and fought against him. Sitting up, he slapped her viciously, bloodying her lip. With his hands encircling her neck he pressed against the sides of her neck. Within seconds her eyelids began to flutter. Using his thighs to spread her legs farther apart, he forced himself into her again. Stupid bitch is dry, he thought. With each stroke he managed to penetrate deeper and deeper and his hands tightened more with each thrust. His hands left her throat, and she wasn't moving as he continued to ravage her rag doll body. He had to relieve the unbearable pressure that had built up inside him, but it wasn't working.
Withdrawing from her once again, he rolled her onto her stomach. He knew she wouldn't be fighting back this time. Spreading her ass cheeks, he pushed into her anus, tearing skin that didn't feel anything any more. He didn't need to be careful. He needed to get off, and this bitch was going to do it. As he drove into her, he closed his eyes and pictured the one he really wanted. The one he would soon have. The silken blonde hair. The long willowy legs encircling him as he fucked her over and over in his mind. The thought of it gave him the sexual release he needed, and he was sweating and breathing heavily, gasping for air just as the girl with him now had done. It was an exquisite pleasure.
Chapter Twenty
BY THE TIME Harriett and Nick arrived at the Hyatt in Dallas, Wayne had obviously been a very busy man. As she walked past a newspaper vending machine in front of the Hyatt, the Taggart case was front-page news. There were pictures of Harriett and Sean Lassiter on the front page of both major Dallas papers. An inside story recounted the Wilkes case and had interviews with everyone associated with that case who would agree to be interviewed. Wayne had almost done his job too well. A reporter approached Harriett as she was getting the key to her room, demanding a statement. She and Nick escaped into an elevator to get to the safety of their rooms. Harriett arranged to meet Wayne and Nick in her room.
"I want to thank you for that greeting I received when I arrived," she said as soon as Wayne walked into her room.
"It's just the beginning, kiddo. You said you wanted a change of venue."
"You didn't have to tell them where I was staying."
"I didn't. They all know how to let their fingers do the walking."
"Maybe I should contact my agent," Nick said wryly.
"First time in Dallas, Nick?" Wayne asked.
"Yep."
"Maybe you and me can sneak out of here later. I know a couple of places you might enjoy."
"I want publicity, Wayne. I don't want my partner arrested with one of your hooker friends. Who leaked the information in the papers anyway?"
"Better you don't know, but Riley isn't happy about it, and Lassiter is crappin' in his Brooks Brothers suit. You know how fast gossip spreads, especially if it's a lie," he grinned.
"I hope it's enough. I have to talk to Sharon," Harriett said as she opened her briefcase. "And you two need to read over this stuff."
She handed Nick and Wayne a stack of Xeroxed papers.
"What the hell is this?" Wayne asked.
"Information about dissociative identity disorder, formally known as multiple personality syndrome. Helen Mortenson put it together for me before we left Austin."
"Harriett's arranged a meeting with the judge tomorrow to change the plea to not guilty due to mental disease or defect," Nick said.
"I can't believe you'd resort to NGRI, Harriett," Wayne said.
Taking a deep breath, Harriett said, "Before I can do anything, I have to convince Sharon to take this plea. If she won't, then I'm back to square one because Lassiter isn't going to turn loose of murder one. He's like a damn dog with a bone."
"When are you planning to talk to Taggart?" Wayne asked.
"Very shortly. And this time, I'm going in the front doors. If I convince her, I'll announce it to any reporters who are there."
"You ready to handle questions about Wilkes?"
"Guess I won't have a choice. Tomorrow I want you to contact these men," she said, handing a paper to Wayne. "One of them is here in Dallas, but the others are out of state. Offer them their fee and room and board to conduct psychiatric evaluations of Sharon. If they're available, make the arrangements as soon as possible."
"What if she won't agree?" Nick asked.
"She has to," Harriett frowned.
NINETY MINUTES LATER she pushed her way through a group of reporters and entered the front doors of the Allen Center. She was standing when Sharon was brought into the interview room. Waiting for the officers to remove her client's handcuffs, Harriett grew impatient, but remained standing as Sharon pushed her hair back and sat down.
"You lied to me Sharon," she stated flatly.
"I haven't lied about anything, Harriett."
"Why didn't you tell me you bought the ammunition for the Browning?"
"I haven't. No since we first bought the rifle."
"That's bullshit, Sharon!" Harriett said, raising her voice. "They found the store that sold it to you. Want to try again?"
"I didn't buy any ammunition," Sharon insisted.
"If you keep lying to me I can't help you."
Sharon looked down at her hands and appeared to be deep in thought. Harriett waited but her patience was already at its limit.
Slapping her hand down on the table, Harriett demanded, "Look at me, goddamn it!"
When Sharon did look up at Harriett her face was relaxed.
"Guess I should've gone a little farther from home, huh?" Sharon stated matter-of-factly.
"So you did buy the ammo?"
"Well, of course, I did. Wasn't likely she would ever get up the guts to do it."
"Who?"
"Sharon."
Harriett watched as the woman's lips curled into an easy smile. Slowly, the woman looked around the room.
"Depressing place."
"Excuse me?" Harriett said.
Slowly the woman's head turned back to Harriett.
"I'm Jan. But you'd already figured everything out but that, hadn't you?"
"Not exactly."
"Oops."
Harriett kept her eyes on the woman who now claimed to be Jan as she sat down. Jan laughed out loud at the look on Harriett's face. Just as suddenly, her face became solemn.
"How much trouble is she in?" Jan asked.
"Neck deep. The prosecution is pressing for murder one. There's a possible death sentence attached to it."
"Damn! I really fucked up this time."
"You want to tell me about it?"
"Maybe I shouldn't."
"Don't you want to help Sharon?"
"Shit. I been doing that my whole life. I need a break."
"Jan. Wasn't that the name of Sharon's imaginary playmate?"
"Ta-da!" Jan said expansively.
"Do you communicate with Sharon?"
"No. I just get stuck with all the shit she doesn't want to deal with."
"Like what?"
"Sex, anger, stuff like that."
"Is Sharon angry?"
"Hell, if your life was as pathetic as hers, you'd be pissed off, too. Stuck with that bastard pig Frank."
"Does Frank know about you?"
Jan laughed and pulled a leg up under her. "I've been with him a few times, but he doesn't have a clue. I made him think he was some kind of stud duck, which, believe me, he ain't."
"When you say you've been with him, what do you mean?"
"What do you th
ink I mean? I fucked him. I wouldn't dignify what he does as making love. Things have to be really tense before I sleep with him."
"I know what he did when he visited here last week."
"What?"
"I know he grabbed you and tried to force you to have sex with him."
"Then I guess you know he didn't quite pull it off. You think I'd let that animal rape me the way he did her? I'm not afraid of that asshole."
"But Sharon is."
"She's afraid of everything."
"You're responsible for the shootings, aren't you?"
"I didn't shoot anyone, Harriett," Jan smiled. "Those people killed themselves."
"You're culpable, which means..."
"I know what it means. I'm not stupid," Jan snapped.
"Sorry. I forgot that Sharon taught law as part of her class."
"Sharon didn't teach shit. She couldn't hack it any more."
"You're teaching her classes?"
"For about two years. It's kinda fun. I was teacher of the year, you know."
"I've seen a video of you in action. Very impressive."
Jan performed a mock bow from her seat and smiled.
"Where is Sharon while you're teaching?"
"Resting, I guess."
"But it is Sharon who goes home every evening?"
"Of course. After a long hard day at the office, you think I want to go home to that asshole Frank Taggart? Pul-eeze," Jan said, rolling her eyes.
Harriett took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
"I'm going to request a psychiatric evaluation."
"For what? I ain't nuts. Besides, I thought you said the other day that this was a bogus charge."
"Not if you did it."
"But Sharon didn't do anything. We don't need any shrinks in here fuckin' everything up and askin' how Sharon got along with dear old Mommy and Daddy or how traumatic her potty trainin' was."
"If you're a personality separate from Sharon, we could amend the plea to NGRI. A psychiatrist would be able to testify that Sharon has a mental defect."
"And then what, spend the rest of my life in a mental institution?" Jan asked, getting up from her seat. "No, thank you. I only came out today because you pushed Sharon too far. But I'm not talkin' to any shrinks and neither is she. At least if we go to jail, we'll be away from everyone who's ever hurt us."
"She needs help."
"To get rid of me you mean. But you know what, I kind of like it here."
"I'll bet you do. Do anything you want and let Sharon take the blame."
"Look, I've been takin' shit for her for over twenty fuckin' years, and all I've got to show for it are bad memories. You know what it's like to have nothin' but bad memories? I'm thinkin' about stayin' out."
"What about Sharon?"
"What about her? She'd never be able to protect herself anyway. I can just let her go to sleep. Let her go somewhere where she won't have to worry about pain and anger anymore."
"If you're the one who suffers the pain and anger, won't you be one-sided without her? After all, she created you."
"Because she couldn't handle life in the big bad world. She'll never be able to. So what's the point of her even stayin' around?"
"Time's getting short," Harriett said. "I haven't been able to convince the prosecutor to lessen the charge. Sharon could face the death penalty based on the physical evidence they have, and I have no doubt the State will demand it."
"What are you sayin'?"
"I'm saying that I'm not left with much except an insanity plea on her behalf, but I can't do that without Sharon's permission."
"Do you think she's crazy?"
"I think she has some problems that would qualify as a legitimate affirmative defense. She'll have to give the okay, and then you'll both have to trust me."
"What happens if they don't believe she's crazy?"
"She could be just as bad off. This is a last resort defense. She'll have to be evaluated by psychiatrists from both sides."
"I already told you I wasn't gonna talk to any shrinks," Jan said.
"We don't have a choice, Jan," Harriett said calmly. "If I can't go forward with this defense, Sharon will be executed and you'll both die."
"You're askin' me to commit suicide anyway by going away."
"I'm asking you to let me save Sharon. Then maybe you and she can come to grips with one another. You're strong, Jan. She needs that part of herself. And I think you need her."
"She's a pathetic weakling."
"She's a caring, gentle person. If she's executed will you come out to take the punishment? Or will you leave her alone and bewildered?"
"I'll do what I have to to protect myself."
"Then do it now. When people understand what happened to her, they'll get help for you, too."
"You know what happened to her?"
"No, but from what I've read, it must have been a childhood trauma of some kind. Is that right?"
Jan smiled at Harriett. "I guess that depends on your point of view."
"Will you let her agree to a change in the plea?"
"Why not? I like to shock people anyway."
Pulling a paper from her briefcase, Harriett laid it on the table and handed a pen to Jan.
"Sharon has to sign this."
Taking the pen, Jan said, "She doesn't do anything I don't want her to do."
Signing the paper, Jan handed the pen back to Harriett. "Now what?"
"I'm requesting a change of venue as well," Harriett said as she glanced at the signature before slipping the document back into her briefcase. "I hope to get the case moved to Travis County."
"Where the hell is that?"
"Austin. It's more liberal, and a jury might be more open-minded to the plea than a Dallas jury."
"Whatever. When does the shrink arrive?"
"The first one will probably be here tomorrow sometime."
"The first one! How many fuckin' people do I have to talk to?"
"I'm arranging for three, and I don't know what the prosecution will bring in."
"Shit, why worry about pleadin' insanity. By the time they get through, we won't have a brain left worth keeping."
"I don't want to mislead you," Harriett said. "This won't be a walk in the park. Juries don't like this plea, and the burden of proof is on us."
"You mean you have to prove she's crazy."
"Yes. And that whichever one of you pulled the trigger didn't know the difference between right and wrong."
"That's some swell job you got, Harriett."
Chapter Twenty-One
IT WAS NINE-THIRTY that evening by the time Harriett returned to the Hyatt. As soon as she entered her room, she collapsed on the bed. Sitting up a few minutes later, she called Wayne and Nick, arranging to meet them in the bar for a drink.
When they had all been served, Harriett took a long drink.
"What do you think?" she asked looking at the two men.
"She agreed?" Nick asked.
"Someone signed her name to the document. Lassiter won't fight the insanity thing. He doesn't have to prove a damn thing, so his job will be easy."
"Too bad the rules changed, or he'd be busier than a shithouse rat," Wayne said.
"Did you look over the papers I gave you?"
"Yeah," Nick said. "But you're still stuck with the right-wrong standard."
"Well, she admits she did it, but she doesn't think she did anything wrong. Malicious mischief at best. The victims overreacted."
"She had to have known people might get a little overwrought if they were being shot at," Nick said.
"But did they know that?" Harriett asked. "How would the average driver cruising down the highway know they've been shot at?"
"A bullet zippin' through the windshield would probably be their first clue," Wayne snorted.
"Why not a blowout? Or a rock hitting the windshield? Have we got the accident reports?"
"Yeah."
"Did the reports mention a bullet hole in any
of the windows?"
"The cars were pretty messed up, Harriett. Ever seen what's left after a head-on collision with a light pole or another car at fifty or sixty miles per?"
"So how would the prosecution know the cars were even shot at? If bullets went through the windshields they had to have lodged somewhere inside the vehicles. Lassiter has to be withholding something to act as sure as he is. Wayne..." Harriett began.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll look into it. I know someone at ballistics."
Harriett smiled at the older man and patted his hand.
"You know someone everywhere, thank God," she said. "I want to see where these accidents took place. And at the same time of day."
"She told you she shot at the cars, Harriett," Nick said.
"But Lassiter doesn't know that, Nick," she nodded.
"Well, you can't have it both ways," Nick said over his glass. "You can either disprove their evidence or go for insanity. But you can't do both."
"I'm betting they have more than the one bullet they told me about. If Lassiter is holding them back and I can prove it, I want him off the case. I'm going to hold the insanity motion for a while."
"You can check out the scenes of the crime tonight if you want to," Wayne said. "They all happened after dark."
WAYNE DROVE HARRIETT'S truck as he took her and Nick to the sites where the accidents had taken place. Each faced a bridge or embankment. As Harriett made her way around the areas overlooking the highways, she had an unobstructed view of the oncoming traffic. At the scene of the Kaufmann accident, the last shooting, a steep grassy embankment ran between the main highway and an access road.
"Where did the witness say she saw Sharon?" Harriett asked as she looked around.
"Claims she saw her coming from up there," Wayne said as he pointed up the grassy area.
Harriett climbed up the embankment and lay down on the grass. Wayne and Nick joined her a moment later.
"Good view," Wayne said.
"Where did Mrs. Sanchez see the car?"
"On the access road," Wayne said, motioning over his shoulder.
"I want pictures of this whole area at night." Looking back at the traffic, Harriett asked, "How fast do you estimate those cars are going?"
"Over the speed limit. Maybe sixty-five or seventy."
"Could you hit an oncoming vehicle at this range, Wayne?"
Redress of Grievances Page 14