Victim of the Defense

by Marianne Woolbert-Maxwell

  She picked up Lucy’s file and opened it. The trial date had not been set but she knew from previous experience that you never had enough time to prepare. There was always so much to do. Someone knocked on her office door. Steve Windfield opened it and stuck his head in.

  “Have a moment?”

  “Sure.” Megan shut the file and laid it on the side of her desk.

  Windfield came in followed by a woman who appeared to be in her late fifties. She had shoulder-length auburn hair and was wearing a tan jacket and slacks.

  “Megan, this is Carol McGuire, the head of the victim’s advocate program. She’s assigned to Lucy’s case.”

  Megan extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  Carol smiled. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.”

  Windfield motioned for Carol to have a seat. “I wanted you to meet. We call Carol in to work on our really big cases. She has a lot of experience and does an excellent job.” Megan knew how it worked, a victim advocate’s role was to help the victim understand what was going on and feel comfortable during the trial process. Victim advocates had no real power and when Megan was a defense lawyer she felt like they got in the way more than helped anything. But now that she was in the prosecutor’s role she was glad for any help she could get for Lucy.

  Windfield smiled and headed out the door. “See you both later.”

  “Can I get you anything?” Megan looked around the office. She didn’t have coffee, tea, or anything to offer. Some offices had individual coffee makers but hers didn’t.

  “I’m fine.” Carol placed her briefcase on the floor.

  “Have you met Lucy yet?” Megan asked.

  Carol shook her head. “No. I wanted to talk to you first.”

  Megan found that strange. Usually the victim advocate made contact with the victim before they met with the prosecutor assigned to their case.

  Carol’s expression turned serious. “I really admire you for taking this case on.”

  Megan smiled. “I’m here to help people and Lucy is a great person who has had a terrible thing happen to her.”

  Carol nodded. “You worked at Tarkington, Wagner, Krieg and DeVoe, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” Megan felt something wasn’t right but she couldn’t pinpoint it. Do I know you?”

  “No, we’ve never met.” Carol placed her hands in her lap. “I just thought you might have heard of me.”

  Megan shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

  “The inner circle of that firm knows me very well.”

  “I wasn’t part of the inner circle.”

  She saw Carol’s expression change. “So you don’t know of me.”

  Megan leaned forward. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You don’t realize what you’ve done. There’s been an allegation of abuse against one of the big shots who work there. We’ve been trying to nail him for a long time.”

  Megan felt her breath catch. “Who are you talking about?”

  “Rick Harwood. Do you know him?”

  Megan nodded. Rick Harwood was a senior partner held in high esteem by the firm and the legal community.

  “Several years ago he beat his wife and she ended up in a shelter for battered women. She was lucky to be alive.” Carol shook her head. “We did our damndest to get him prosecuted. Between the powers that be at the firm and his wife refusing to prosecute we couldn’t do anything.”

  Megan was stunned.

  “My sources say that his wife is still with him and the abuse continues.” Carol tapped her hand on the arm of the chair. “I expect he’ll end up killing her.’’

  “And how does that not come to light?” Megan asked incredulously.

  “That firm is very powerful and they protect their own. They will allow nothing to sully their polished public image. And they’re pretty good at making things go away.” Carol made quotation marks in the air.

  Megan knew Rick Harwood’s wife Melissa. She didn’t seem like the type to put up with that. Of course, Megan knew from years of practicing law that appearances could be deceiving. Cases of spousal abuse were always more complicated than they looked on the surface. But was Carol suggesting the firm was somehow keeping Melissa from coming forward? Megan didn’t doubt that the firm was deeply invested in keeping their lawyers looking lily white. She knew the firm did whatever it took to win a case. But this was the first time she’d ever considered the lengths to which it would go.

  Carol smoothed out a crease in her slacks. “The prosecutor’s office asked me to talk to Melissa Harwood when she was in the shelter and I tried to gently encourage her to press charges. For a while I checked in with her every now and then but then she stopped taking my calls. I heard through the grapevine that the firm isn’t happy I’m on Lucy Hatfield’s case.” She paused and looked at Megan. “I’ve also heard they’re shitting bricks because you’re prosecuting Lucy’s case.”

  She paused and thought for a moment. “Rick Harwood’s wife said she was afraid to go forward with pressing charges partly because she didn’t have confidence in the prosecutor’s office. If you win this case that could change. I think that might be one reason the firm is set on you backing down. Not only are they afraid you’ll find a way to win the case against Tarkington, they’re afraid it will bring Rick Harwood’s crimes to light. And that will be the last straw in sullying the firm’s reputation.”

  Carol stood up and picked up her briefcase. “I’m really glad to meet you. I’ll set up a time to see Lucy. I have her contact information.” She extended her hand. “I’m happy to see there’s someone who isn’t afraid to stand up to the firm. And isn’t afraid to make a Supreme Court justice’s grandson pay for what he’s done. “ She shrugged on her coat. “Hell, Old Man Tarkington may even intervene and try to save his grandson. Nothing would surprise me at this point. Here’s my card. “ Carol dropped the card on the desk.

  Megan looked at it and nodded. She didn’t know what to say. She was stunned.

  “Talk to you later.” Before Megan could say anything Carol was gone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  Megan leaned back in the chair. It was almost ten p.m. and she was ready to turn in for the night. The day after Carol’s visit she’d gotten a notice the trial date had been set for October 15th. That was roughly five months away. She knew better than to fall into the trap of thinking she had lots of time to prepare. Time would fly by.

  Since Carol McGuire had come to her office she’d been wondering what lengths the firm would go to keep her off the case or even to keep the trial from happening. If the firm could get her out of the picture it might be able to manipulate whatever prosecutor took her place. She’d be surprised if Windfield backed down but the election was coming up and the firm could potentially kick a lot of money to his reelection campaign to bribe him to drop the charges. Windfield appeared to be on board one hundred percent; however, when it came to politics and money she’d seen stranger things than a case going by the wayside.

  Megan closed her laptop and put it into her briefcase. Her phone rang just as she started to get up. She cast a glance at the screen and a bolt of nervous energy daggered through her. Reluctantly, she pressed Answer.

  “Good evening, Megan. This is Justice Tarkington. I hope it’s not too late to call. I lost track of time today.”

  “Hello, sir. No, it’s not too late. “ Megan wished she had let the call go to voicemail but she needed to get this conversation over with.

  “I just wanted to check in with you and see when we can expect you back at the firm.” The Justice’s voice brimmed with confidence.

  Megan paused and chose her words carefully. “I’ve given your offer a lot of thought.”

  “I’m making things right,” Justice Tarkington said. “This should never have happened to begin with.”

  Megan cleared her throat. “I agree. But things have changed in my life and I’ve moved on. I appreciate it very much, but I can’t a
ccept the offer to come back to the firm. “She could feel Justice Tarkington’s energy shift. “I ‘d be interested in a financial settlement for the wrongful dismissal lawsuit—one that would include all of the women …”

  The distinguished old man cut her off. “That’s not what we talked about.”

  Megan could hear him exhale. She could tell he was not happy.

  “This is the opportunity of a lifetime for you, Megan. If you accept we can talk about the other women involved, but it’s all or nothing. There’s no staying on as a prosecutor and also resolving your case against the firm. “

  He paused. “You won’t win your age discrimination suit.” His voice was bold and mocking.

  “With all due respect, sir, I thought you said you wanted to make things right and that this should never have happened to begin with.”

  “That’s just my personal opinion…” His voice trailed off. “I suggest you rethink your position. You’d be foolish to turn down my offer. Very foolish. You’re a smart woman, Megan. You know that there are ethical issues with your remaining as special prosecutor in Craig’s case. You could be facing charges with the disciplinary commission. I don’t think you want to risk losing your law license. “

  Megan could tell it was taking everything the Justice had to keep his composure and not explode.

  “I don’t believe I have anything to worry about with the commission or losing my license, sir. The Court ruled that I had no conflict. I’ve given your offer a lot of thought and I can’t accept. I would like to talk about a settlement that...”

  The line went dead.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The alarm clock blared and Megan jumped. She reached out from under the blanket and felt around on the nightstand, trying to find the off button. She cracked open her eyes. It was nine a.m. She had quit working on Lucy’s case and gone to bed around five. It seemed like she had just fallen asleep. She leveraged herself up on her elbow and turned the alarm off, then collapsed back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. She was bone tired—both physically and emotionally.

  After a few moments she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and put on her house slippers. The room felt cold even though it was the end of June. She got up, slipped on her robe, and wrapped it around her. As she headed for the bathroom her phone rang.

  “Have you seen the morning news?”

  It was Steve Windfield.

  “Good morning to you too, Steve.”

  Windfield ignored her. “Have you seen the news?” His voice was full of impatience.

  “No I haven’t. Why?”

  “ Mattingly is on the news talking about how the firm you used to work for fired you.”

  Megan sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “They’ve filed a suit against you for slander saying that you’ve fabricated stories against the firm that have damaged their reputation. Mattingly was being interviewed and he was blowing off about how the firm had to let you go and they have witnesses who will say you’ve set out to damage the firms’ reputation.” Windfield paused. “Mattingly said they can prove substantial damage and that you’re attacking them from all angles.”

  “He means prosecuting Tarkington?” Megan said with a sigh of exasperation.

  “Wrongfully,” Windfield added. “According to Mattingly, Tarkington is just a victim of your vicious attack. You were fired from the firm and all of a sudden here you are as a special prosecutor going after a member of your former employer and the grandson of the founder. Mattingly said that they had tried to resolve the issue with you—just to make a good faith effort—and you refused and then started this campaign to prosecute Tarkington.”

  Megan felt sick. “Old Man Tarkington,” she said softly.

  “What about Justice Tarkington?” Windfield said.

  Megan hadn’t told anyone about her encounter with the Supreme Court justice. “He followed me home a while back and wanted to talk.”

  “He did what!” Megan could hear the shock in Windfield’s voice. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Megan recounted what happened, adding that the justice had called her a couple of days ago to see if she was taking his offer.

  “I told him no and before I could finish my sentence he hung up.” She let out a sigh.

  “They’re going to do an all out attack on your credibility. Saying that you’re taking on this case simply to gore the bull, so to speak. They’re going to use the press to make us look bad. They’ve already started doing it.”

  A huge knot of tension balled in Megan’s stomach. “They can attack me, but the law and the facts are still the same,” she said angrily.

  “And who decides the outcome of this case?” Windfield paused.

  “The jury….”

  “They’re trying to hurt your credibility with the public, Megan. We’ll have to be very careful in picking the jury to make sure this hasn’t made them prejudiced against you.”

  Megan lay back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “I hate this.”

  “We’ll have a press conference and address it all. Damage control. I fear this may just be the first of their tactics. Just wanted to give you a heads up before you turned on the TV or saw it in the paper.”

  Megan thanked Windfield and hung up. She knew how the game was played. Juries could be funny. If they had an ax to grind with a prosecutor it could come back to hurt the victim with a finding of not guilty or guilty of a much lesser charge. The prosecutor represented the law, and people would hold her to a high ethical standard. She’d seen it before in other cases. If she wasn’t credible it could hurt Lucy’s case.

  She closed her eyes. She hadn’t even made it to the bathroom yet and the day had turned into an emergency. Her phone started ringing again. She groaned and glanced at the screen. It was Eric Covington. “God, now what,” she muttered. She picked up the phone and pressed the answer button. “Please tell me you have good news.”

  “Good morning to you, sunshine,” Eric said with a laugh. “Having a tough morning?”

  Megan told him about her conversation with Windfield.

  Eric wasn’t surprised. He’d been in police work for years before becoming a PI and knew how the system worked. “You must have them running scared and they’re pulling out all the stops.”

  Megan could hear him take a sip of a drink. She’d known him for years and she knew he always started his day with a strong cup of black coffee. “Please tell me you have some good news,” she said again.

  The line went silent.

  “Well,” Megan said with an air of hesitancy.

  “I just located Tarkington’s second victim.”

  ‘What!” Megan hoisted herself up on her elbow. She felt her mood brighten. This could be just what she needed to get a conviction. Her heart was in her throat. “What did you find out?”

  For several seconds the line was silent. “I’m sorry to add to your problems, Megan.” Eric paused. “She’s dead. She died in a car crash two years ago.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  “I have no further questions,” Brockton Mattingly said and flipped his file folder shut.

  Megan glanced at Lucy. She was white as a sheet.

  “I want your client to sign the deposition after she reads it.” Mattingly snapped the cap back on his pen. He had spent the best part of four and a half hours grilling Lucy on every aspect of her life. His questions were probing and varied— and at times some questions seemed to have absolutely no bearing on the case. He’d asked her everything from where she had grown up to questions about whether she had been a member of any sororities in college.

  Mattingly told the court reporter to make two copies of the deposition, got up from the table, and began stuffing his briefcase with legal pads and files. He pressed shut his briefcase and turned to Megan. “Did you get the message from the court?”

  Megan shook her head. “No clue what you’re referring to,” she said curtly. Since he had filed the lawsuit against her on behalf of th
e firm she trusted him even less than she had before and preferred to have as little interaction with him as possible.

  Mattingly rested his hands on top of his briefcase. “The big criminal case that was scheduled to go to trial two weeks before our case got settled. The court wants to move our trial up earlier.”

  Megan felt like she had been kicked in the gut. She needed all the time she could get to prepare and pull this rabbit out of the hat. Now the situation was even worse. She did her best not to show her feelings; she knew Mattingly would love to see her show any sign of distress. Mattingly had defended enough rape cases to know that without any corroborating witnesses to support Lucy’s allegations against Tarkington, he had at least a fifty-fifty chance of winning.

  “Did the court officially move up our trial date?” she asked.

  “Sure did.” Mattingly smiled. “I’m sure you’ll be getting notice.” He spoke briefly to the court reporter about another case he had set for deposition and then turned and walked out the door.

  The court reporter started gathering her materials and files. “No hurry,” she said. “We don’t have another deposition set for a couple of hours. You’re welcome to use the room until then.”

  Megan smiled and thanked her. She’d always used this company for all her cases. They did great work and were good people.

  Lucy leaned back in the chair and sighed. Megan could see her hands were trembling. Even though Lucy was an attorney, she had never practiced criminal law or been a victim in a case. This was an experience no one could adequately describe or prepare someone for. . Megan reached over and touched Lucy on the arm. “You did a great job.”

  Lucy shook her head. “That was awful. I’ve never felt so….. degraded.” Megan could see emotion welling up in her. Lucy raised her hand and quickly wiped away a tear that was starting to trickle down her cheek. “I feel like I’m the criminal who’s on trial.” She picked up her purse and searched for a tissue.