Redress of Grievances

by Brenda Adcock

  Jess handed the phone back to Harriett and walked quickly to the front door. As she jumped off the front steps and ran to the Durango, the door behind her opened. As she got into her vehicle and turned the key, Wayne wedged himself into the passenger seat, fastening the seat belt as they sped away.

  "You're armed, I'm guessin'," Wayne growled.

  Reaching under the driver's seat, Jess pulled a Glock from a hidden holster and laid it on the seat next to her. "And you?

  Wayne pulled a .357 from under his coat. "Never leave home without it."

  Ten blocks from Harriett's townhouse, Jess whipped the Durango to the curb, turned off the headlights, and rolled the driver's window down. "They should be here anytime now," Jess said, almost to herself.

  In less than a minute, the headlights of two vehicles came over a rise in the road. The first vehicle was Harriett's truck. The second a low slung dark vehicle that remained less than a car length behind the truck. Flipping on her headlights, Jess screamed away from the curb. Reaching under her seat, she stuck a police light on top of the Durango. The red light swept across the dark vehicle which abruptly swung around the truck and accelerated. As Jess followed the car, Wayne leaned out his window and yelled to Lacey, "Go home!"

  Jess's Durango had plenty of horsepower, and she managed to keep the other vehicle in sight, but wasn't really gaining on it. "Can you make out the plate?" she asked Wayne.

  "Looks like the bastard covered it with mud or somethin'," Wayne shook his head. "Can't see a fuckin' thing. This the best this heap can do?" he demanded.

  Jess goosed the accelerator and moved closer, concentrating on the taillights of the car ahead of her. "This road ends three or four blocks ahead," Jess said. Suddenly, brake lights from the car lit up, and it slid to a stop as the driver's door flew open. As she stopped the Durango and jumped out, she saw a dark figure run into a wooded area to her left. "Radio's in the console," she yelled at Wayne as she grabbed her gun and a flashlight and sprinted off. "Call in this location."

  Jess estimated that she couldn't be very far behind the other driver as she moved into the brush, her Glock held out in front of her. Her anger that anyone would get so close to Lacey or Harriett fueled her, but she knew she couldn't allow herself to get careless now. As she moved deeper into the darkness of the wooded area, she stopped periodically and looked for branches moving after being disturbed or to listen for the sound of someone moving in the decayed vegetation on the ground. A snapping sound to her left caused her to drop to one knee and swing the pistol and light around, only to be greeted by the glowing eyes of a stray cat before it retreated further into the foliage.

  "Shit," she muttered as she stood once more, crouching as she moved from tree to tree.

  HE RECOGNIZED THE woman searching for him from earlier that day at the courthouse. He was close enough to overpower her and kill her. His hand clenched and unclenched the handle of his knife as he contemplated his options. It would hurt Harriett if she lost her new lover, and he didn't want to do that. He wanted to be the one to hurt her. She would understand the message he had left for her. As he heard the sirens of other vehicles approaching the area he retreated, using the noise they were making to cover his movements.

  TWENTY MINUTES LATER, patrol cars lined the street, spotlights probing into the darkness. A police helicopter circled overhead. Most of the houses appeared to be abandoned as officers searched each one. As Wayne leaned against the Durango, drawing heavily on a cigarette, Jess slowly made her way back toward him. She was frowning.

  "I'm gatherin' you lost him," Wayne stated the obvious.

  "Yeah. Goddamn it!" she seethed as she threw her flashlight into her car.

  "Well, I'm hungry from all this excitement," he said as he pushed himself away from the car and crushed out his cigarette.

  When they drove up to Harriett's house, there was a patrol car in the driveway. Inside, officers were taking statements from Lacey and Devon. Harriett came up to them. "Who was it?" she asked.

  "I never saw his face," Jess explained.

  Harriett frowned and Jess was furious that she hadn't been able to apprehend the man. "I don't think you should stay here, Harriett," she said. "Whoever it was probably knows where you live."

  "I'm not going to run away and hide, Jess. It would just give him more power over me."

  Taking Harriett's arm, Jess led her into the kitchen. "Why don't you and Lacey stay at my place for a while. At least give us a chance to locate the guy."

  "We'll be fine here."

  "If you won't come to my house, then I'll be forced to stay here," Jess said. "Your choice."

  Placing her hands on Jess's shoulders, Harriett finally said, "Let's have dinner, and then I'll decide. Okay?"

  "Where's the food?" Harriett asked as she and Jess returned to the living room.

  Lacey jumped up, "Oh, I left it in the truck when we got home. I'll get it, but it's probably cold by now. I'm sorry."

  "That's why God invented microwaves, sweetheart," Harriett smiled.

  "I'll get it," Wayne said as he trudged out the front door. A couple of minutes later, he carried in two large plastic grocery bags full of food and handed them to Harriett. Turning to Jess, he said quietly, "Join me outside for a minute."

  Jess followed him to Harriett's truck. "Walk around her truck...slowly. Tell me if you see anything unusual," the investigator said as he lit another cigarette.

  Jess looked at him blankly, but did as he told her. She walked around the truck twice. Once at normal height and a second time bent at the waist. As she came around the rear of the truck the second time, she stopped. Looking at Wayne, she asked, "Got a flashlight?"

  When Wayne shook his head, she walked to the Durango and retrieved her flashlight. Squatting next to the truck, she ran the beam down the body of the truck. "Fuck me," she breathed.

  "Whaddaya think it is?" Wayne asked coolly.

  Glancing up at him, Jess said, "You know damn well what it is. Some guy whacked off and finger painted with his own semen."

  "Yep, that's what I thought. Just wanted another opinion," he said gruffly. "Better get the lab out here to impound this truck. Whoever it is sure ain't tryin' to be very subtle."

  Jess flipped open her phone and punched in a number. "Unfortunately, it's not illegal to jerk off, even if it is on someone's private vehicle."

  "Whatcha gonna tell Harriett?"

  Looking back at the truck and the word "soon" scrawled on it, she looked at Wayne. "I'm going to tell her that her life has been threatened, and she should take it very seriously."

  "Well, there goes dinner," he exhaled.

  AFTER WATCHING HER truck being loaded on a tow truck and hauled away, Harriett and Lacey packed bags, and Jess loaded them into the back of her Durango. Wayne agreed to stay at Harriett's just in case anyone uninvited showed up. Arriving at her home, Jess showed Lacey to a downstairs bedroom and made sure she had everything she needed to be comfortable.

  Joining Harriett in the master bedroom, Jess took off her jacket and locked her Glock away in the nightstand. Harriett began unpacking as Jess cleared a place for her clothes in her closet and chest of drawers.

  "How long do you think we'll have to be here?" Harriett asked.

  "Probably long enough for the lab to process the car that followed Lacey and your truck," Jess shrugged.

  "I'll need to rent a car."

  "I'll arrange for one tomorrow after I drop you off at your office. Anything special?"

  "How about something non-descript that looks like every other damn car on the road?"

  "That's probably a good idea," Jess frowned slightly. "Listen, Harriett, if you want, I can sleep downstairs."

  "If anyone should sleep downstairs it would be me. I'm the one displacing you."

  "I don't look at it that way. But I don't want Lacey to get the wrong idea."

  "And exactly what idea would that be, Jess?" Harriett asked shortly. "That you and I are sleeping together? We both know that's no
t true."

  Jess was taken aback by the rebuke in Harriett's voice, but chose to ignore it.

  "I'm sorry, Jess," Harriett said softly. "I'm so sorry. Tonight has just been...stressful."

  "I won't let anyone hurt you or Lacey."

  Crossing the room, Harriett put her arms around Jess and hugged her tightly. "Let's get some rest," she whispered. "We're both a little jittery right now, and my client's trial starts in earnest tomorrow."

  "I'll be back in a minute. I need to check the doors and set the alarm," Jess nodded.

  Harriett finished putting her clothes and bathroom items away. She had just begun undressing, pulling her shirt over her head, when she had the feeling she was being watched. As she turned, she saw Jess leaning against the door facing of the bedroom. She could feel her eyes caressing her body, clothed only in her bra and half zipped jeans. Jess's eyes wandered slowly up Harriett's body until their eyes met.

  "You are so beautiful," she said softly as Harriett moved slowly toward her, stopping less than a foot from her. "You take my breath away."

  Harriett continued looking into Jess's eyes as she reached up and touched the side of her face without speaking. Her hand came to rest on the back of Jess's neck, and she pulled her closer. In a rush of desire she had been struggling with since they first met, Jess took Harriett in her arms and kissed her deeply. Her kiss was filled with a longing and need she hadn't felt since she had lost Renee, and Harriett responded to it eagerly. As Jess's lips moved along her neck and shoulders, Harriett closed her eyes and reveled in the feel of Jess's hands on her skin. Almost as quickly as she had begun, Jess stopped and held Harriett in her arms.

  "I should sleep downstairs," she said.

  Harriett couldn't believe what she was hearing. "What's wrong, Jess?"

  "Nothing."

  "Then why do you seem so...reluctant to be with me?"

  "I'm not. This just isn't the right time. Your plate is full with the trial and now with whoever is stalking you. You don't need me to complicate things even more."

  Harriett held Jess's eyes with her own as she began unbuttoning her shirt. Running her hands under it she heard the quick intake of breath as her hands spread and flattened against Jess's abdomen and ribs. "I want to be with you, Jess, but you keep pushing me away."

  "I want you so much that it scares the hell out of me, Harriett. I never thought I would meet anyone who could make me feel like this after Renee."

  "I can't be Renee for you, Jess."

  "You don't need to be. Renee is...dead."

  "And you're still alive. When are you going to forgive yourself being alive and wanting to enjoy life again?"

  Jess's eyes penetrated Harriett's as if she were trying to see what was in her mind. Her hands softly touched Harriett until they found their way into her jeans and caressed her buttocks. Kissing her with a series of small teasing kisses, Jess let her mouth wander as Harriett ran her hands through Jess's hair and pulled her mouth back to her own. She couldn't remember ever wanting anyone so much before, not even Alex.

  HARRIETT WAS AWAKENED in the gray pre-dawn by Jess's lips on her neck, and the feel of her hand moving lightly over her hip. She rolled toward her and drew her into a slow, lingering kiss. It had been so long, and her body reminded her how good it could feel to be loved and desired.

  "Don't you ever get tired?" Jess asked between kisses.

  "I'll never get tired of you. I love the way you make me feel when you touch me."

  "Ah! Then I don't have to ask if you'll still respect me in the morning."

  "It is morning," Harriett chuckled.

  "Time flies when...," Jess started with a grin.

  "Shut up and kiss me," Harriett growled seductively.

  Jess laughed and kissed her again.

  "I'm sorry, Harriett," she said as she stroked along Harriett's back, dreading that they would soon have to leave the bed and dress for work.

  "For what?"

  "I'm sorry I didn't make love with you before now. I don't know what was wrong with me. Scared, I guess."

  "Well, there is definitely nothing wrong with you. And you were more than worth the wait."

  Jess pulled Harriett on top of her and swept her tousled hair away from her face.

  "I'll never let anyone hurt you, Harriett. I promise." She had promised to always protect Renee and failed. She had promised to protect her younger brother and also failed. But this time Jess was determined not to fail again.

  "I know, my love. Unfortunately, I need to grab a quick shower and get ready for court." As Jess watched her naked body slide toward the edge of the bed, Harriett looked over her shoulder and smiled. "I don't suppose I could convince you to wash my back for me?"

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  HARRIETT SAT PATIENTLY through the first two days of the prosecution's presentation to the jury. So far, everything Lassiter had offered was undeniable. The rifle belonged to the Taggarts, and Sharon's fingerprints were on the barrel and stock. However, as Harriett pointed out, it wasn't unusual that her prints were on the weapon since it was in her home, and she had used it. The firearms expert from the state forensics lab testified that the rifle had been recently cleaned, and there was no way to determine when it was last fired by Sharon or anyone else, for that matter.

  While she was actually enjoying picking at Lassiter's witnesses' testimony, she knew the strongest State evidence against her client hadn't been presented yet. Smiling to herself, she was looking forward to her cross-examination of Detective James Riley. She listened attentively to the testimony of Emma Sanchez, purportedly an eyewitness to the Kaufmann shooting. Mrs. Sanchez was an older woman, in her late sixties, but had no trouble pointing directly at Sharon and identifying her as the woman she had seen leaving the embankment near the freeway carrying a rifle. In her cross-examination, Harriett used a map of the area of the crime and asked Mrs. Sanchez to point out where she had been when she witnessed the events of that February evening. Then she had an enlarged photograph of the location, taken at the same approximate time of night as the crime, displayed for the jury. The picture showed an individual on the embankment, and from the location already pointed out by Mrs. Sanchez, it would have been virtually impossible to identify the woman in the picture. In fact, it could have been a man with long hair. Despite Harriett's best efforts, Mrs. Sanchez adamantly refused to alter her testimony or to question her identification of the defendant. Deciding that nothing more was to be gained by badgering the woman, Harriett ended her questioning, but left the enlarged photo on an easel facing the jury.

  AS JAMES RILEY readjusted his body in the witness chair and took a drink of water from the glass next to him, he watched Harriett flipping through her legal pad. He hated her, but he was determined not to allow his feelings to distract him from answering her questions. He suspected she might try to provoke him into an outburst that would cause the jury to regard him as a less than credible witness. In his experience, that was always the case when police officers testified. The key would be to remain calm.

  "Detective Riley," Harriett said rather quietly, forcing Riley to lean forward slightly in order to hear her. "You were assigned to the task force formed to investigate the freeway killings after the third shooting, weren't you?"

  "That's correct."

  "Did you ask for the assignment?"

  "No, I was pulled from another case to work on the task force."

  "And your particular area of investigation for the task force was initially the third case. Is that correct?"

  "Yes."

  "How many of the shell casings were recovered from the shootings?"

  "There were six. One at the site of each shooting, except one. No casing was found at one of the scenes, and it was assumed the perpetrator policed the area before leaving."

  "In your experience, isn't it rather atypical for a woman to have committed crimes such as the ones my client has been charged with?"

  "It's a little unusual," Riley agreed.

&nb
sp; "Isn't it true that most crimes committed by women are generally spur of the moment crimes of passion or self-defense?"

  "Objection," Lassiter said. "The witness is not an expert in the psychology of criminals."

  "He's a trained detective with nearly twenty years experience in dealing with a wide variety of crimes and criminals," Harriett argued. Glancing at Riley, it struck her that she was actually calling him an experienced and competent police officer.

  "Overruled. The witness may answer the question," Landers intoned.

  Looking back at her old nemesis, Harriett said, "Detective?"

  "Yes, ma'am, the task force initially believed that the freeway shootings were committed by a man."

  "Detective Riley," she continued. "You testified that the shell casings that were introduced into evidence today were purchased by my client. Is that correct?"

  "Yes, it is. She was positively identified by the clerk who sold them."

  "When items, such as ammunition or shell casings, are submitted to the state laboratory, the police officer who delivers them signs a chain of custody voucher, don't they?"

  "That's the procedure," Riley smiled.

  "And after it's tested, the evidence is then held in the evidence locker at the lab until it's needed for trial or to match to other similar evidence. True?"

  "Yes."

  "Approach the witness, your Honor?" Harriett asked.

  Landers motioned her forward, and she picked up a copy of the chain of custody voucher as she walked toward the witness stand. Leaning her elbows on the railing, she handed the paper to Riley. "Is this the chain of custody voucher for the shell casings in the Taggart case, detective?"

  "It would appear to be," Riley said as he looked down at the sheet.

  "Could you please read the name of the last person who had possession of the shell cartridges that were tested by the state lab before this trial began?"

  "James Riley," the detective said clearly.

  "Why didn't this evidence remain in the evidence locker with other pieces of evidence?"

  "I was instructed to take it to a second evidence locker by Mr. Lassiter," Riley answered, nodding his head toward the prosecution table.