Point of Departure

by Lindsay McKenna

  “Obviously.” Ty saw her face fall, the bleakness returning to her eyes. “Don’t blow this out of proportion, Callie.”

  “Don’t?” She sighed. “Why shouldn’t I? This legal eagle is a full-fledged attorney. He’s ex-navy, and I’ll bet he’s a ring-knocker, too.”

  “His name is Jason Lewis, and yes, he’s an Annapolis graduate.”

  “I knew it!” She sat there breathing unevenly for a long moment, and tried to gather her strewn emotions. “And he’s a retired captain. He’s probably got more rank than the board that’s convening.” She looked up at Ty for verification and saw him barely nod.

  “The board has three commanders on it,” he elaborated. “Two men and a woman. As you know, it must be comprised of your peers. You’re a lieutenant, so that meant either lieutenant commanders or commanders.”

  “Lewis is a captain. I don’t care if he’s retired or not, the board will respect that. They’ll take it into consideration, Ty!”

  Wincing at the desperation he saw mirrored in her eyes and voice, he said, “They shouldn’t take it into consideration.”

  With a snort, Callie rasped, “They will! It’s a good-ol’-boys’ club. I’m the outsider. What a joke. I’m the one who was attacked, but that doesn’t even play into this comedy of errors. And I’ll lay you anything that this Lewis will come after me like a wild dog ready to rip my throat out.”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  “How does a board work?” she demanded tightly. “Do I get cross-examined? Does the board ask me questions? What kind of cross fire am I going to be in?”

  It was a war of sorts, Ty thought, but he didn’t want Callie to know that—at least, not yet. “I’ll ask you questions, and then the counsel for each pilot will have the opportunity to cross-examine you,” he admitted. “The board may also ask questions whenever it chooses to. Only one person takes the stand at a time. The rest remain in the room, but are quiet. Take it easy,” he pleaded. “There’s no sense in getting overemotional now. You’re going to have to take all these feelings and mold them into some very clear thinking when we go into that board session.”

  “Take it easy? Ty, my career is as good as gone!”

  He leaned forward, his voice low with feeling. “If that’s the way you see it, then we have to fight to get it back, don’t we?”

  Callie closed her eyes and tried to contain her roiling anger at the unfairness of the situation. Somehow, just the fact that Ty said ‘we’ made her feel a little better. Opening her eyes, she gave him a stormy look. “Let’s not fool ourselves about what’s going to happen. My career is dead in the water. They’ll somehow make it out to be my fault. I just know it.”

  “Not if I have anything to do with it,” Ty stated grimly.

  “Remington and those two other pilots deserve to be kicked out of the navy, as far as I’m concerned, Ty. But the board will probably slap their hands, say, ‘Bad boys!’ and let them walk away scot-free. In the meantime, it will be my career that’s damaged, because I came forward to protest what they did to me. It isn’t fair! It just isn’t!”

  When the tears formed in her eyes, Ty couldn’t take it anymore. Searching for and finding the white linen handkerchief in his back pocket, he held it out to her. “Don’t cry,” he mumbled. “I can’t stand to see a woman cry. It tears the hell out of me.”

  Callie glared at him as she dabbed her eyes and blew her nose. “Well, how do you think all of this makes me feel? You come in here and tell me Remington has hired this big legal gun with all the right breeding, the right credentials. He’s out to smear me and ruin my career.”

  Ty couldn’t argue with her. He wasn’t a lawyer. He wasn’t a captain, either—just a mere lieutenant commander. And worst of all, he didn’t have the expertise that Lewis did in the field of law. “Okay,” he snapped, “so we’re underdogs. That shouldn’t be new to you, should it? Being a woman in the navy, you should be used to that position in the hierarchy.” Dammit, he wasn’t going to accept Callie’s victimlike perspective.

  Her head snapped up, her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened at his challenge. “Why, you—”

  “Cut it out, Callie. I’m not here to give up on your case. I don’t care if the world’s most famous attorney shows up at that board—it doesn’t matter to me.” He tapped the report in front of him. “What does matter is the truth.”

  “Even if I’m right,” she cried angrily, “that doesn’t guarantee I’ll win this board hearing. It doesn’t even guarantee that I’ll have a job when it’s all over! That’s what you don’t want to comprehend. The truth has nothing to do with this, don’t you see that?”

  “No,” he snarled, “I don’t see that. I’ll never see that, dammit! I happen to believe in the system, and yes, it’s flawed, but I know it can work. If I can’t believe in that, then I shouldn’t be in this navy.”

  Wiping her eyes jerkily with the handkerchief, Callie glared at him. “What an idealist you are, Commander. Well, let me tell you something from my view of the navy as a woman officer, there will be continued unfairness toward me. I’ll be seen as the troublemaker, the one who started this whole mess. It’s okay for a man to have a gripe, but if a woman does, she’s considered mouthy. And it’s okay for a man to stand firm on what he believes, but if a woman does the same, she’s ‘hard’ or ‘tough.’ And if one of these pilots loses his temper, it shows how much he cares about his work. If I lose my temper for the same reasons, I’m bitchy.”

  Callie gulped back a sob. “You see, there are two sets of laws, two legal systems out there. One is visible, but the one that really works is invisible.”

  “I think you’re paranoid,” he rattled defensively.

  She gave him a cutting smile. “We’ll see, won’t we? I’ve been through the system too many times. You’re the one who’s going into this like some knight galloping toward the charge on your white horse. And you’re the one who’s going to get the surprise. I’m prepared for it. I’m prepared to be seen as the perpetrator, the tease. I’m prepared to have my career destroyed and to be given my walking papers.”

  “That won’t happen!”

  Sadly, Callie shook her head. “You’re a very good human being as far as pilots go, Ty, but you don’t get it. You can’t, I guess, because you’re not a woman. I’m telling you,” she whispered as she handed back the handkerchief to him, “that we’ll lose this board hearing, that Remington and those other two pilots will walk away without any just punishment.”

  Ty sat back and refolded the handkerchief, damp with Callie’s tears of frustration and anger. “I just don’t know how you could say those things,” he muttered, putting the handkerchief back into his pocket. “I believe in the navy system. I believe in their zero-tolerance policy. I’ve seen it work. No, I don’t care how much you want to give up on your case, Callie, I won’t let it happen. And if you want to see me as some knight charging a dragon that’s going to devour both of us, that’s fine, too. But I don’t see myself that way. I see that we have a case—an open-and-shut sexual harassment case that is winnable. I expect to nail Remington and those two other pilots. I’m going to ask for the maximum punishment for Remington, and I’m going to ask that the other two pilots have their careers shaped by what they’ve done.”

  Wearily, Callie sat back, her arms folded over her breasts. The light burning in Ty’s gray eyes told her of his sincerity to fight on her behalf. Why couldn’t he realize that he could never win for her? “By the time you’re done trying to defend me, you’ll understand,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “You’ll see what the navy really thinks of the women who serve.”

  “I don’t believe it. I never will.”

  Callie pulled a notebook from the desk near the table where the phone sat. “Do you know how many phone calls I’ve received from other navy women since my case hit the newspapers yesterday?” She opened it and showed him a list of eight names, phone numbers and addresses. “At least twenty women, about half of them enlisted,
the other half officers, have called me.”

  Ty glanced at the list and then looked at Callie. “What did they call for? To give you support?”

  She laughed, but the sound was mixed with sorrow and outrage. “Ty, these women called to tell me their stories of how they’d been sexually harassed. They called to wish me well. They called to tell me that they hadn’t had the courage to report the victimizers because they were afraid.”

  “Afraid?”

  “Yes, for their careers, for the retribution they knew would be heaped on them.” She shook her head. “And I’ve got to tell you, one of the women was more than harassed, she was brutally raped—by her supervisor, so she’s really afraid to come forward.” She looked down at herself. “What happened to me wasn’t so bad after all. But I never realized that until these women called.”

  Sourly, Ty sat watching Callie’s face. “Because I took you to the dispensary, you didn’t have a choice about reporting it or not.”

  “I know. That’s what I told them. I told them I was really a coward at heart—that I hadn’t wanted it reported for the very same reasons they didn’t come forward. I didn’t want a board investigation. I didn’t want any of this.”

  Ty looked at the names in mild shock. He’d never realized the insidiousness of sexual harassment until now. “Yes, but Remington and those two are going to think long and hard before they ever attack another woman because you have come forward.” He tapped the paper. “Have any of these women been sexually harassed by Remington or those other two pilots?”

  “I don’t know. They didn’t mention names, they’re so scared of being found out. Why?”

  “I’m going to talk to them.”

  “No!” Callie came out of the chair, her hands resting flatly on the table. “No, you can’t do that. They called me in confidence. They don’t want to be found out. Please don’t do that, Ty. Don’t.”

  He couldn’t stand the look of devastation on Callie’s features, so he nodded. “Okay.”

  “You mean that?”

  “Sure. Why wouldn’t I?”

  Taking the notebook that held the names, she closed it and placed it under the telephone directory. “I—I don’t know.”

  His mouth compressing, Ty scowled. “You think I’d sneak around behind your back, don’t you?”

  Biting her lower lip, Callie slowly sat down. She’d hurt him; she could see it in the shadows of his gray gaze. “I…well, yes. I’m sorry, you didn’t have that coming. You’ve been more than fair with me. And highly tolerant. I know I’m bouncing around like a yo-yo emotionally.”

  Without thinking, she reached out and touched his hand. The black hair on the back of it was thick and wiry. She felt the instant tension of his muscles, the inherent strength within him. When she saw his gray eyes soften and lose their hardness, her throat constricted. “I’ll bet you’re sorry you were out there that night in the parking lot,” she whispered. Hesitantly, she withdrew her hand. Just that brief contact with Ty had banished some of her instability.

  Stunned that Callie had reached out and touched him, Ty sat there for a moment assimilating the gesture. Her touch had been tentative, feather light. Swallowing hard, he held her sad gaze. “Just the opposite,” he rasped thickly. Risking everything, he captured her hand in his. Surprise registered instantly in her eyes. “I have to admit, my life has been turned inside out. But I’m not sorry, Callie. I never will be.” Tightening his fingers around hers, he said in a low voice, “More importantly, you have to trust me.”

  For a moment, Callie allowed herself to capitulate, to believe that she could trust Ty. The burning look in his eyes spoke of his passionate commitment to defending her. His hand was warm and strong. Caring. It was foreign to her to be on the receiving end of that kind of caring from a man. She’d seen it between Maggie and her husband, Wes, so many times—that sense of thoughtfulness, of being more concerned with the other than themselves.

  Bowing her head, Callie closed her eyes, her voice strained. “I’ve been really hurt in the past by men, Ty. I know I’m making you pay for others’ behavior when I distrust you. You haven’t done anything to earn that from me, but I just can’t seem to help how I feel.”

  “It’s okay,” he said quietly, giving her hand one final squeeze before he forced himself to release it. If he didn’t, he was going to lift her hand, kiss the back of it and ruin what little trust he’d just established with Callie. When she raised her head, her eyes were bright with unshed tears. For a moment, he wondered how someone as emotional and sensitive as she was could possibly survive, even thrive, in such a harsh male climate where she knew she wasn’t welcome. It spoke of Callie’s underlying strength, Ty knew.

  “Listen,” he said, clearing his throat, “we need to get back on track. I’m going to lead you through this board procedure one step at a time. There are certain things I need to touch base with you on, requirements in preparation for a board investigation.”

  Nodding jerkily, Callie forced herself to pay attention to the business at hand—and not remain focused on Ty Ballard. Her hand tingled pleasantly where Ty had held it. There was such latent strength in his grip. “Okay.” She picked up the coffee mug and took a drink.

  Shaken by the intensity of their contact, Ty scowled and took a paper, turning it around for her to view. He wanted to say to hell with the formalities, put this trial aside and simply get to know Callie, the woman. But that was impossible, so he quietly closed that part of his heart and hoped for another chance at some point in the future. “I need to give you a definition of sexual harassment so that you will understand where and how I’m going to focus the investigation.”

  Leaning forward and trying to concentrate on the paper, Callie nodded, the cup of coffee between her hands. “I know what sexual harassment is—nearly every woman does—but tell me the working legal definition of it,” she said wryly.

  “Basically, it’s inappropriate or illegal behavior by one person toward another. Usually, it’s committed by a man toward a woman, but sometimes—maybe five percent of the time—it’s reversed.”

  “And the other 95 percent of the time harassment is committed by men,” Callie drawled. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “Save your anger for the hearing,” he warned her with a slight smile. “The definition can include negative or offensive comments, jokes or suggestions about fellow employee’s gender or sexuality.”

  “Remington and his gang certainly qualify on that one.”

  “You’ll get your chance to try to recall exactly what they each said in order to corroborate that fact,” Ty said. “It can mean obscene or lewd remarks or jokes, or calling you things like ‘sweetie,’ ‘honey’ or other more inflammatory nicknames.”

  “Like ‘split tail.’”

  Ty jerked his head up. Split tail was a highly derogatory term sometimes used by men in the navy toward navy women. “Who called you that?” he ground out.

  “Remington. Who else?”

  Anger coursed through Ty, and he snapped his mouth shut against a curse he wanted to level at the officer. Forcing himself to get back to the matter at hand, he said, “It also includes talking about or calling attention to your body or your sexual characteristics. If Remington has bothered you at work and you’ve objected to his ‘attention,’ that’s also included in the definition. It’s also sexual harassment if nude or sexual pictures, photographs, cartoons or calendars are displayed on navy property.”

  Callie sat back. “I didn’t realize all of this was included in the definition.”

  “We’re not only going after Remington for his harassment and attack on you a few nights ago, we’re nailing him for anything he might have done to you over at the Intelligence unit.”

  Releasing a sigh, Callie rolled her eyes. “Ever since I got here, he’s been trying to grope me.”

  Ty held up his hand. “Let’s start at the beginning.” He picked up the report. Taking a tape recorder, he pressed the Record button. “This little machine
is in case I omit something from the report that ought to be in there,” he told her.

  Callie’s paranoia doubled at the thought of her words being recorded. In the wrong hands, it could kill her career. But she stopped herself. If Ty Ballard was putting on a front, it was completely fooling her. She vividly recalled his hand gripping hers and him pleading with her to trust him. Did she have a choice? Swallowing, she avoided looking at the tape recorder sitting off to one side of the table.

  “Okay, the beginning,” she said unsteadily. “The first day I reported in for work, I had to go to Remington’s office. He got up, shut the door, came up behind me and slid his arm around my shoulders. He told me I’d be the prettiest navy officer working under him.” She scowled. “Believe me, he put emphasis on the word under. As a matter of fact, he leaned over and whispered it in my ear.”

  Frowning, Ty forced himself to write down the incident. “What was your reaction?”

  Callie laughed abruptly. “I was in shock. I’d never had any boss do something that blatant.”

  “But you have been harassed by other bosses?”

  “Sure. Maybe a look. Maybe a vague innuendo that left me wondering if I had somehow invited that kind of response.”

  “That’s the other problem with harassment victims,” Ty said. “They often think it’s their fault. They look at the way they’re dressed, if their skirt is too short, if they’re wearing too much makeup or whatever.”

  “As you well know, navy regulations keep our skirts knee length.” Callie sighed. “And as for makeup, I never wear any, although I’ve been asked by various bosses to do so.”

  “That’s harassment of another kind.”

  “Looking back on it, I suppose it was. I just shrugged my shoulders and told them I preferred the natural look.”

  Ty smiled slightly and glanced at Callie. “You look beautiful without any makeup. Stay that way.” And then he caught himself and laughed. “That wasn’t a sexual-harassment comment, either.”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?” Callie asked, curious and thrilled by his compliment.