Redress of Grievances

by Brenda Adcock

Each room in the expansive home had been decorated to reflect the personality of its inhabitants. The downstairs included the living room, a large combination den and game room complete with pool table and jukebox, a guest room, bathroom, kitchen, and laundry room. Jess stopped midway down the first floor hallway and flipped a switch inside the last downstairs room.

  "This is where I spend most of my time," she said glancing into the room. "It's not completely picked up, but not too bad for me. My office."

  The walls of the room were covered with trophies, plaques, and pictures. As Harriett made her way around the room, she read the inscriptions on the trophies and smiled at the pictures. Obviously, Jess had been a basketball player in her high school and college years, and if the trophies and plaques were any indication, Harriett assumed that she had been a very good player.

  "A jock, huh?" she laughed over her shoulder.

  "Only in my younger and wilder days," Jess chuckled. "But I had a good time."

  Harriett followed Jess back into the living room. "What's upstairs?"

  "The master suite," she answered. "Basically just an oversized bedroom, sitting room, and master bath."

  "I've never seen a bedroom that took up an entire floor before," Harriett said.

  Pressing a switch at the bottom of the stairs, theater style lighting illuminated each step as Harriett followed Jess up the stairs and into the largest bedroom she had ever seen. Plush burgundy carpeting covered the floor, which held a minimal amount of furniture. The far wall of the room was floor to ceiling windows with French doors opening onto a second story deck. Moonlight filtered through a skylight over the king size bed.

  "Oh, my God!" Harriett breathed. "There's so much space."

  "The problem with most people is that when they find themselves with extra living space, they feel an irresistible urge to fill it up with something. I've always preferred simple over extravagant." Jess turned a dial near the entrance to the room and brought the lighting up for a better view of the expansive room. "Just the way I was raised, I guess."

  "This is incredible, Jess. Really."

  "Thanks," Jess smiled. "The bath has a garden tub with a Jacuzzi that is very relaxing after a tough day."

  Harriett wandered around the room and master bath and couldn't get over how impressive it was. Standing next to the bed, she ran her hand over the wood on the headboard.

  "This is lovely. What kind of wood is this?" she asked as she ran her hand over the smooth surface.

  "Birdseye maple," Jess said, shoving her hands into her pockets. "I saw some a couple of years ago and fell in love with its uniqueness. Found a retired furniture maker and had him construct this bed out of it for me." Seeing the look on Harriett's face, Jess answered her unasked question. "This isn't the bed Renee and I shared. I couldn't stand having it here. Too many memories," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "I'm sorry."

  Harriett reached out and squeezed her arm gently. "I didn't mean to bring back bad memories, Jess," she said softly.

  "It's okay. Talking about the bad times allows us to cope with problems and makes it easier to talk about good memories. If I don't talk about it, I'll never be able to get on with my life."

  "Now you sound like my psychologist," Harriett said.

  "Well, to tell you the truth, Harriett, Helen Mortenson was my psychologist for a while after Renee died. That's how I got your unlisted number," Jess grinned.

  "That witch!" Harriett laughed. "Isn't that a breach of confidentiality or something?"

  "How about another cup of coffee and some dessert?" Jess offered.

  "And maybe more good conversation," Harriett said as she took Jess's hand and moved toward the stairs.

  AN HOUR LATER Jess had been bombarded with questions about her past and her work until she finally threw up her hands. "Are you this relentless when you question witnesses in court?"

  "Sorry, occupational hazard," Harriett smiled.

  "Now that you know everything about me except maybe my shoe size, tell me about Harriett Markham. And I should tell you that I'm a trained interrogator, too."

  Leaning back against the sofa, Harriett sighed, "Pretty boring story."

  Jess rested her arm along the back of the sofa and looked at Harriett. "You know pretty much all there is to know about Renee. Anyone significant in your past?"

  "That's a little complicated," Harriett answered, clearing her throat.

  "How so?"

  "There was someone a long time ago. She was a senior partner in the law firm I worked for in Dallas. It was intense, and I know now, a mistake."

  "Did you love her?"

  Harriett looked into Jess's eyes. "Very much."

  "And..." Jess coaxed.

  "I was involved in an extremely difficult case, which resulted in my leaving the firm and moving to Austin."

  "And she just let you go?"

  "She already had a partner, which I guess made me the 'other woman.' So it was for the best."

  "But you don't regret it," Jess stated.

  Harriett smiled slightly. "No, I don't regret it."

  "Do you still love her?"

  "I'll always love her, but I'm no longer in love with her. She was an important part of my life once." Harriett couldn't bring herself to divulge the temporary rekindling of her affair with Alex. Maybe someday, but not that night.

  Jess glanced at the mantle clock and sat up. "Damn, it's after one. Your niece is probably wondering where you are."

  "I'm fine, and Lacey doesn't wait up for me when I go out for the evening."

  "You said it had been a stressful week," Jess said as she got up and carried their coffee cups to the kitchen. "I just thought you might be getting tired."

  Harriett followed Jess into the kitchen and helped her rinse and load their dinner dishes into the dishwasher. For a few minutes there was an awkward silence between them. Being with Harriett had made Jess realize how much she hated being alone and how much she missed Renee.

  "I really enjoyed dinner tonight, Jess," Harriett said. "The food was delicious, and the conversation was wonderful."

  "I'm glad. It's been a while since I've had anyone over for dinner," Jess said quietly. In fact, it's been more than a while since I've been with anyone I'd want to get to know better, she thought as she glanced at Harriett. "We'll have to do it again sometime."

  "I'd like that," Harriett smiled warmly. She had been pleasantly surprised at how comfortable being with Jess was. There was a quiet shyness about her that she found intriguing.

  "Would you like to go to the club tomorrow night? Maybe have dinner someplace before we trip the light fantastic?" Jess offered.

  "So I can spend my evening fighting off other women who want to dance with you?" Harriett teased. "Your services seemed to be in great demand the last time you were at the club."

  Stepping closer to her, Jess smiled, "I promise to turn down my legions of admirers and save every dance for you."

  "Well, who could possibly turn down an offer like that?" Harriett laughed.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  "I COULD LOSE my job if they catch you in here, Wayne."

  "Look, Kelsey. I know the prosecution or Riley or both have more than they're telling us. And I know you're the techie who ran the tests on the fuckin' rifle. Were the bullets a match or not?" Wayne pressed. Howard Kelsey was the best ballistics technician in north Texas, but he was also your basic Harvey Milquetoast. He couldn't be bribed, but he sure as hell could be intimidated.

  "All six that I examined were from the same lot the police found at the defendant's home. The firing pin marking on the shells were consistent with that model Browning and the lands and grooves matched as well. The bullets were all lubricated, which means..."

  "Yeah, yeah, I know what it means. They travel faster out of the barrel. So what?"

  "Well, why would anyone need a bullet that travels faster if it's gonna run into a target moving toward it at sixty or so miles per. Just seems like an unusual choice. If they hadn't
been such specialized bullets, there's no way they could have been traced to your client. Pretty stupid, if you ask me."

  Wayne scratched his beard stubble. "Or it was pretty smart. So you have the six bullets, right?"

  "I did, but Riley has them now. Signed them out as soon as I gave him my results." Kelsey shrugged. "He said something about being afraid we would lose them before the trial."

  "Did he sign a chain of custody voucher?"

  "Yeah."

  "Well, I need a copy of it, Howie. Taggart's attorney has a right to see it."

  "I can't give you that! They'll know where you got it!"

  Grabbing the man by the front of his lab coat, Wayne said, "Look, you little pissant, I'm not gonna waste my time arguing with you, and I don't have time to run the paperwork through channels. By the time I do that, those fuckin' bullets could be any damn place." Reaching into his coat pocket, Wayne shoved a sheet of paper in front of Kelsey. "This is what they said they had. One! One fucked up point and a few shells. You know damn well Riley's gonna claim you lost the others, you moron!"

  "That son of a bitch!"

  Shoving Kelsey away, Wayne ordered, "So give me a copy of the other ballistics reports."

  Kelsey scurried away from Wayne and pulled a large binder from a shelf over his desk. Flipping through several pages, he eventually removed two pages and took them to the lab copier.

  "Those bullets were fired over about a year's time. How did you tie them together?" Wayne asked.

  "It was Riley's idea. I guess the circumstances were similar enough that he asked me to compare the bullets and casings from the other cases to the last one...Kaufmann."

  "Then I'll need the log form for each shell." Wayne lit a cigarette.

  "Hey! You can't smoke in here, man."

  "So give me a ticket. I need a copy of the log for the rifle, too. When did it come in?"

  "About a week or so after the bullet from the Kaufmann case, I think."

  WITH THE COPIES of the ballistic reports in hand, Wayne settled in his Tahoe and pulled out his cell phone.

  "Well, you were right," Wayne announced as soon as Harriett answered her phone. "They're squirreling away the real bullets for a rainy day, and I got the paperwork to prove it."

  "Where did they find them?" she asked.

  "Lodged in the passenger seats of the vehicles. So the shots had to have gone through the windshields, and the drivers would have known they were being shot at."

  "What about the windshields? Where are they?"

  "Can't use them. Too mangled up in the collisions."

  Harriett removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Are they hiding anything else we should know about?"

  "Not that I could ferret out. But from configurin' where the bullet they showed us had to have been fired from to hit the telephone pole, I'm guessin' that it might have been a plant. Maybe from a Browning, but not from any shots your client might have fired."

  "That was probably Riley's genius at work again," Harriett sighed.

  "So we know they have the rifle, unused ammo, shell casings, and the spent bullets from the scenes. What else?"

  "They got some of her clothes with powder residue, and her fingerprints are on just about everything in the county."

  "Then I'll be forced to amend the plea soon."

  "What are your experts sayin' so far? Is she nuts or not?"

  "I hope so, but the final reports won't be ready until the end of the week. I want you to do a little deep digging for me, Wayne."

  "How deep?"

  "According to Dr. Talbot we could be looking into a multiple personality defense for the NGRI. The generally accepted cause is early childhood trauma, probably sexual abuse."

  "What about all that shit I found at the school? You know Lassiter's people have probably seen all them books about the insanity defense."

  "Reading a few books doesn't prove you aren't insane."

  "Well, I'd have to think she was fakin' it if I was the prosecutor."

  "I'll have to worry about that if and when Lassiter brings it up. In the meantime, I want you to find out who Parker Collins's friends were in high school and locate as many of them as possible. Then I might need you to talk to them and bring them back for the trial if necessary."

  "I can do that, but I'll need a refill on the retainer."

  "I had two thousand transferred into your account this morning," Harriett said.

  "Okay, kiddo. When will your client arrive?"

  "Monday afternoon. They'll call from the county jail after she's been processed."

  "How soon do you think it'll be before the trial begins?" Wayne asked.

  "Two, maybe three weeks," Harriett said. "Depends on how long it takes them to get their experts on board."

  "Rumor in Dallas is that Donald Stevenson is their guy, you know," Wayne said.

  "Fabulous," Harriett muttered.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  "YOU'RE IN A good mood this evening," Harriett observed as Jess guided her Durango through Austin traffic Saturday evening.

  Jess smiled as she looked across the car at Harriett. She was feeling better than she had in the last four years. She certainly couldn't deny her physical attraction to the woman beside her. "I am in a good mood. So far I've had a great meal and stimulating conversation, and am about to spend the rest of the evening dancing with a beautiful woman at my favorite club. Who wouldn't be in a good mood with all that going for her?"

  "Thank you, Jess." Harriett hoped the dim lighting in the car prevented Jess from seeing her blush.

  A little before ten, Jess swung the Durango into a private parking garage across the street from the Corral and rolled the window down to pull a ticket from the entry gate. After parking the car in a vacant slot on the third level of the garage, Jess walked around to the passenger side and helped Harriett out of the vehicle. As Harriett took Jess's hand, she intertwined their fingers. Jess couldn't believe how stunning Harriett looked. Tan jeans showed off a figure that anyone would be proud of, and her light brown hair hung loosely down to her shoulders. Jess was in the mood to dance, and it had been a while since she had danced with anyone she gave a damn about.

  "Let's go show them how it's done," Jess smiled as she closed and locked the SUV.

  The Saturday night crowd hadn't found its way to the Corral yet, and Jess couldn't help but notice that there was plenty of space on the dance floor.

  "Would you like a drink?" Jess asked.

  "Maybe later," Harriett said.

  Jess saw their reflection in a floor-to-ceiling mirror that ran the length of the bar and even she had to admit that they made an attractive couple. She was only slightly taller than Harriett and everything about them seemed to fit together. She slipped her arm around Harriett's waist and drew her closer. "You look beautiful tonight."

  "So do you," Harriett said, shifting her weight slightly to lean against Jess's shoulder.

  As soon as a new song began, Jess led her onto the dance floor, and taking her into her arms, began a slow two-step. She fit so well against Jess's body that it was as if they were one person as they glided smoothly together. Jess reached up, and using her fingertips, brushed Harriett's hair back from her face, seeing the tenderness in her eyes as Harriett looked at her, softly stroking the back of Jess's neck.

  It was nearly midnight when Jess asked, "Ready to go?"

  "I think I'll request something to finish our evening," Harriett smiled.

  "What did you request?" Jess asked when she returned a few minutes later.

  "It's a surprise, but I used to love dancing to it."

  "Ah," Jess grinned, "I love a mystery."

  "She promised to play it next."

  "How much did you have to pay her?" Jess laughed.

  The music stopped and a moment later, a deep driving drumbeat began swelling through the speakers as Harriett stood and took Jess's hand.

  "Do you remember this one?" she grinned. "Now we'll see how good you really a
re."

  Jess laughed as she followed Harriett onto the floor, already feeling the beat of "Hungry Eyes."

  She pulled Harriett into her arms and moved immediately into the dance. Other patrons of the bar seemed stunned not to be hearing the usual country-western tunes that had been playing all evening. As their bodies touched and teased one another, Jess placed her hands on Harriett's hips and pulled her into the sultry, suggestive dance. Eventually, a number of other couples joined them, but neither woman seemed to notice. As the music began to fade away, Harriett kissed Jess lightly and said, "Now I'm ready to go."

  HARRIETT OPENED THE front door to her townhouse, reaching in to flip on an inside light.

  "Coffee?" she asked.

  "Sounds perfect," Jess answered, following her into the kitchen and leaning against the counter as she scooped grounds into the coffeemaker.

  "I haven't had as much fun as I had tonight in a long time, Jess. Thank you," Harriett said, taking two mugs from the cabinet next to the sink.

  "I'm glad. I had a great time, too."

  An uncomfortable moment passed between them as they waited for their coffee. Neither of them wanted the evening to end, but both seemed uncertain what to do about it.

  Clearing her throat, Jess said, "I should be getting home after this."

  Bringing her eyes up to Jess's, Harriett asked, "Are you trying to get away from me, Jess?"

  "No, of course not. I just....," Jess started.

  "Do you remember that song we danced to the night we met?" Harriett interrupted.

  "Which one?"

  "Shut Up and Kiss Me," she said huskily, stopping inches from Jess.

  Jess smiled as she leaned forward and kissed her softly, shyly. Harriett wrapped her arms around Jess's shoulders and pressed against her, enjoying the closeness and warmth of Jess's body as her lips parted slightly, inviting her to deepen their kiss.

  "Stay with me tonight, Jess," she whispered as strong arms caressed her.

  "I...I want to," Jess breathed, "but I can't. I'm sorry."

  Breaking their embrace, Harriett looked at her, an unasked question in her eyes.

  "I...um...I haven't been with anyone since I lost Renee. It isn't you, Harriett. God knows you're beautiful and desirable, but I want to know more about you than just your body. I don't want us to rush into anything."