Personal Violation - David P. Warren - E-Book

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David P. Warren

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Beschreibung

When a female executive is harassed and assaulted by the company's CEO - and subsequently fired - a tenacious attorney is determined to seek justice. 

Profoundly affected and facing the psychological impact of a violent sexual attack on a business trip, executive Sarah turns to lawyer Scott Winslow for legal representation when she reports the incident - and is immediately fired for alleged poor performance. As he prosecutes the case, Winslow must find a way to pull together concrete evidence amidst dueling perspectives. 

The second book in the Scott Winslow Legal Mysteries series, Personal Violation is a fictional account of a real-world horror, portraying the substantial injury caused by rape, the mental and emotional challenges of seeking justice, and insights into the legal system. Teaming up with unorthodox CIA agent-turned investigator Lee Henry, Winslow goes all in to chase down the evidence - but can they piece it all together and close the case?

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Personal Violation

Scott Winslow Legal Mysteries Book 2

David P. Warren

Copyright (C) 2019 David P. Warren

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2020 by Next Chapter

Published 2020 by Next Chapter

Cover art by Cover Mint

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

Many thanks to my wonderful, insightful review team, who help me know when I get it right, and when I miss the mark: Nancy J. Warren Wendy L. Aiken Melanie Sue Prisuta

“Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not absence of fear”Mark Twain

Chapter One

At 7:30 a.m., Controller, Sarah Willis, stared at subsidiary financial reports on one of three monitors on her desk. She needed the opportunity to stretch, as well as a few moments away from the financial analysis she was preparing. After a protracted period of staring at her monitor, the numbers were beginning to run together, and turning to mush in her brain. Sarah's blond hair and blue eyes framed a radiant smile. Though not Hollywood model gorgeous, Sarah was attractive and compelling. As she made her way down the hall to the communal coffeemaker, Sarah observed that the offices around her were slowly transitioning from ghostly quiet, to active, as early birds began to arrive. She poured a cup of coffee, and then walked back to her office. One of her two Assistant Controllers, Melissa Carter, was removing her coat and getting settled in the office next door to Sarah's.

“Good morning, Melissa,” Sarah said, smiling. Sarah's blue eyes sparkled with intelligence, and something else; self-confidence and enthusiasm. She wore her blonde hair at shoulder length, and was attractive, in an elegant way reminiscent of Kate Beckinsale.

“Morning boss,” Melissa replied. She looked at Sarah's coffee cup. “How many so far?” Melissa asked.

“This is only number two, today,” Sarah said, lifting the cup.

After quick calculation, Melissa said, “So, you've been here since about 6:00 this morning?”

Sarah stopped at Melissa's office door and shook her head. “It's amazing how you do that. I must be pretty damned predictable.”

“Only where your coffee consumption is concerned,” Melissa said. “And you were here pretty late last night. I mean, I left at 8:00 o'clock, and you were showing no signs of slowing down.”

“Yeah, I got out of here about 10:30. Plenty of time to nap before being back here for a Tuesday morning.” She took a deep breath. “We've only got one week to get all the subsidiary reporting complete, so I'm feeling the stress. Especially with the foot-dragging I'm getting from a couple of them. How are you doing?”

“I should have Wilson Pharma prepped for you to review by tomorrow,” Melissa said. “Jansing Communications by Thursday.”

“Great work. Between us, we will make these financials make sense, and get it done on time.”

Coffee in hand, Sarah walked back into her office, where the singular picture of her and John on her desk caught her attention. It had been taken eight years ago, shortly after their honeymoon. The picture made her smile, as she reflected on how happy they had been in a world when spending time with each other was the priority. She had been promoted to Controller for Ellison Corporation three years ago, at about the same time his architectural practice began landing almost every contract they chased. Ever since, they both worked sixty hours a week, and saw each other on the run, or while working on emergencies at home. With the loss of time together they had lost some of the intimacy, as well. After eight years of marriage, she and John no longer talked about having kids. It's not that either had decided against children, they just didn't have the time or the lifestyle that would make it work. Hell, they barely had the time and energy for occasional sex. Over the last few years, the most intimate part of their lives had been slowly drifting away. They were both always tired, and it had become so easy not to talk about anything intimate or challenging. It was literally, a cost of doing business. At thirty-nine years old, Sarah had made it to the upper ranks of a corporate giant. An accounting degree, an MBA, and seven years of experience and she was still a young woman. She considered the irony; it took years to achieve a level of success that would assure that there was never time for a personal life.

Neither Sarah nor Melissa stopped for lunch. The day was a race characterized by salads at their desks and little time for extraneous thought, and barely time for bathroom breaks. Melissa appeared at Sarah's door at 7:00 p.m. “Goodnight boss.”

Sarah looked up from her monitor and shook her head. “We didn't even have an opportunity to cover the status of the subsidiary analysis. In the morning, okay?”

“I'll be here,” Melissa said. “And judging by the looks of things, you may be here still.”

Sarah smiled. “I really am going home soon. I'm seeing double, and my head is so full of numbers that they may start leaking from my ears.” She paused and then added, “Thanks for your hard work, Melissa.”

Melissa smiled, and said, “Thanks, chief. Goodnight,” and then she disappeared from the doorway.

At 7:45 p.m. the world outside her office window the sun was long gone and only the city's ambient light illuminated the streets. Sarah analyzed the data and projections of three subsidiaries on three separate monitors. She had to assure that each of the subsidiaries spoke the same analytical language, compared apples and apples and used generally accepted accounting procedures in their analyses. Her eyes were getting tired and she had intermittent thoughts about something that might pass as dinner.

James Nolan, Ellison Company's CEO, stood at the door and gave a knock. “Mind if I interrupt?” he asked.

“Please, Jim, come in.”

He sat down and looked at her paper-covered desk and multiple monitors. “Impressive,” he said. “The way you're getting all this together. I know some of the subsidiaries have to be coerced into getting things done.”

She nodded. “You could say that.”

Nolan was about fifty years old; an outgoing, handsome man, with black hair decorated with highlights of grey. He exuded confidence, and focused keenly on anyone he addressed. He laughed and said, “I know you're busy, so I'll cut to the chase. I am coming to the end of my first year here and the Board likes what the team is doing. You guys are making me look good.” He paused and said, “I like to reward those loyal to me and I'm thinking that you are right for the Senior Vice President of Finance position. You've got a great handle on operations, as well as the financial side, so in three or four months from now I'm going to suggest your name to the Board. I don't think I'll get much resistance.”

Sarah smiled. “That's great news, Jim. Thank you. And thanks for the acknowledgment of my work.”

He paused a moment and then said, “I want you to go to Seattle to attend the Urban Attache acquisition meeting tomorrow night.” She was puzzled. That meeting was not her typical turf. Worse, she had so much to accomplish with all of the corporate financial reports that she had no time for someone else's side show. Nolan added, “You're going for the Thursday presentation anyway, right? I understand that you are making a presentation Thursday morning, and I can use your help Wednesday night.”

“Okay,” Sarah said. “If you need me at the meeting tomorrow night, I'll be there.”

“Thanks, Sarah. I knew I could count on you,” Nolan said. He was quiet for a moment, and then he said, “You know, Sarah, you are an attractive woman and I'd like to know you better.” He grinned widely and added, “We could be really good together.”

She furrowed her brow. Groping for words, she said, “We are both married to someone else.”

He smiled and said, “Sure, but we could really spice things up.” She said nothing. “Let me be straight with you. I want to make love to you.” He was still grinning as he added, “And I know that you would love it, too.”

“I am not okay with that, Jim,” she said as sternly as she could. “I'm not in the market for a relationship, and I don't want to be hit on.”

“Okay,” Nolan said, “we'll leave it for now, but I'm not giving up. I want you in my bed.” He grinned widely and then walked from her office. This was not the first time he flirted with her, but it was the first time that he was so direct in asking for sex. Nolan had made periodic comments about how “good” or how “hot” she looked, and tended to let his eyes fall to her chest, but had never gone further until today. This was something else and it made her feel dirty; like she needed a shower. She stared at her computer for a time, but couldn't get what had just happened out of her mind. It crossed her mind that she should report these comments to Human Resources, but if she did, she might be killing her promised advancement. Maybe, she could just keep Nolan at a distance by letting him know she didn't want to hear it. Maybe then, he would leave her alone. She felt sick to her stomach as she picked up her coat and walked out of the office.

As Sarah drove home, she contemplated telling John about Nolan's comments, but decided that it would needlessly make him angry. She thought again about going to Human Resources, but the very thought of going through a process with the CEO was nauseating. Besides, so many women had tolerated so much more. She told herself that if this was as bad as it got, she could handle it. She would let it go for now.

* * *

Wednesday was as crazy as expected. Sarah was avalanched by about forty phone calls, a hundred emails, and two meetings that went on far too long. After running between crises all day long, Sarah raced to the airport and boarded the late afternoon plane to Seattle with only seconds to spare. She sat down on the plane, pulled her laptop and began to review financial reports. Time was ticking faster than ever.

When Sarah left Los Angeles, it was a typical March day. It was cool, a little overcast, with the sun periodically trying to break through and in the low sixties. When she arrived in Seattle, it was raining and, as always, amazingly green. She hired a Lyft car to drive her to the Puget Sound Hotel. She checked into her room on the twelfth floor and made her way to the elevator. When it stopped, she walked the well-lit corridor to room 1221. She waved the electronic key at the door handle and a light turned green to acknowledge her right of access. She dropped her suitcase on the bed and looked over at the blinking light on the phone. She picked it up and retrieved a voicemail from Jim Nolan. “Hey, Sarah, this is Jim. Something has come up and I have to attend another meeting tonight. You're going to have to handle Urban Attache alone, but we can catch up tonight. I should be able to meet you in the hotel lounge about 10:00. Thanks, Sarah. See you later tonight.”

She shook her head. Things had just gotten a whole lot weirder. She was now flying solo in a meeting that needed someone else's authority and expertise, with no real preparation and only general knowledge of the intended agenda. Sarah prided herself on being prepared for every meeting, so this did not feel good at all. She wondered why Nolan was suddenly unavailable to attend a meeting that was set up for his schedule. She mindlessly put a few things in drawers, and then checked her appearance. She decided that she made a satisfactory appearance for someone operating on reserve energy. Sarah dialed home and got no answer, so she tried John's cell. It went to voicemail. “Hi John. Just calling to let you know that I'm thinking about you. I'm off to the meeting I told you about in Seattle. I hope you are having a good day.” She ended the call, and then picked up her briefcase and made her way downstairs. She summoned another Lyft car as she walked. It would be there in four minutes; a green Nissan. There was no time for dinner.

* * *

It was 7:30 p.m. when Sarah walked into the conference room on the twenty-fourth floor of the Winston Building downtown. She was introduced to Urban Attache's CEO, CFO and in-house attorney. They grabbed coffee from a credenza spanning the width of the room, and seated themselves around the conference table in a manner avoiding the appearance of adversarial sides.

“I am here on behalf of Jim Nolan, who wants us to proceed with this acquisition as quickly as we can get everything completed,” Sarah said.

She was met with silence, and some disapproving looks. “I understood that Mr. Nolan was going to be here to finalize everything tonight,” the CEO, Preston Langley, said with concern.

“He was going to be,” Sarah said, “but an emergency came up and he couldn't make it. I can go through the checklist to make sure that everything is in order, with the exception of two issues.”

Langley did not look happy. He said, “We agreed to close this deal and that this meeting was to handle those two issues. Now, we're not going to get it done?”

“Let me address those two issues,” she said. “We have the revisions to the financials under discussion, and everything looks good, but we need them audited before we can close.”

“We'll have the audited version by Monday,” Langley said, unhappily.

“The other item was the pending dispute with Caspian Products, over the patent. Can I get a look at the final due diligence documents we requested?”

The attorney, Gabriel Johns, handed her a file containing about a dozen multi-page documents, some of them a page or two, others twenty pages in length. She looked through the documents, five minutes growing to ten, while they all waited silently.

“I can't make the final decision on this,” she said, closing the file. “I need our CEO and our lawyer to review these documents.”

Langley leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “Like I said before, I understood that final decisions were the purpose of this meeting.”

Sarah took her time responding, demonstrating no intimidation or panic. “I understand, but as I told you, Mr. Nolan had a last minute emergency and couldn't be here. I will take the financials, and the final due diligence documents, with me. You send me the audited version of the financials, and I will recommend that we sign off. Mr. Nolan will need to review these,” she said, pointing to the newly received documents. She paused and added, “We should have our review complete by the time we get the auditor's certification next week, so there will be no unnecessary delays.” There was a lingering dissatisfied silence in the room, as everyone except Sarah considered whether to complain further about the delay. “Let's go through the checklist,” Sarah said, “to make sure everything else is done.”

They spent twenty minutes covering a list of items that had been completed before her arrival, and found everything in order. Sarah said, “Thank you all for your courtesy. I'm sorry we couldn't get further tonight.”

Langley looked at the lawyer and said, “Evidently, we've gone as far as we are going to get tonight, although I'm a little confused about why we set this evening meeting just to kick finalization down the road. Let's get this signed off by early next week.” He extended a hand and Sarah shook it, and then the other hands around the table.

“Thanks, gentlemen,” she said and walked from the room. These natives were restless, but at least not yet in open revolt. She wondered why Nolan had dumped this meeting on her knowing that she would be unable to respond to the remaining issues, and she was a little pissed off about it. Carrying the files she had taken for review, along with her briefcase, she made her way to the front of the building. The Seattle rain was coming down, as she stopped in the doorway and dialed Lyft to get her ride back to the hotel. What a day.

* * *

Sarah found a soup and salad restaurant near the hotel. She sat in the window and watched people walk, jog and ride bikes in the rain. The people of Seattle handled rain like it wasn't there. Whatever they planned to do, they did regardless of the weather. It didn't seem to slow them down, and it didn't seem to bother them. She ordered soup that was warm and full of chicken chunks. It was just what she needed. As she finished the soup she decided that the other thing she needed was sleep. It was nine-thirty and she had no desire to wait another hour, and then meet Nolan in the lounge for a drink. She wanted a bath, and to settle for the night. She paid the bill and then walked down the busy street of pavers to the hotel, a block away. She made her way to the elevator and then to her room. The king bed looked great. Maybe she should forego the bath until morning. She put her briefcase and files on the table and began to unbutton her blouse. The phone rang and she looked at it like there was an enemy inside this little, electronic Trojan horse. It was Nolan. She hesitated and then picked it up. She really had no choice.

“Sarah Willis,” she said matter-of-factly.

“I'm back, Sarah. Can you meet me in the lounge?”

She hesitated just a moment, and then said, “Okay,” wishing she had let the call go to voicemail. “I'll be there, shortly.”

She looked around the room, wishing she could stay. She took the two files received at the evening meeting and walked down the hall to the elevator. She rode it to the top, where the City View Lounge boasted a 360 degree view of downtown. The large room was inhabited by four groups in suits, all male, and two couples seated in distant corners and focused on each other.

Sarah sat at a table near a window and ordered a glass of Pinot Noir. She debated with herself about whether to confide in Nolan that he left her out of her element by ditching the meeting. She decided to play it by ear. If the situation was right, she would let him know.

Ten minutes later, Nolan walked in and ordered a Jack Daniels. He sat next to her and asked, “So, how was it?”

“Well,” she said, “it was a little unusual.”

“How so?” he asked, sipping his Jack.

“Because the group expected us to handle everything today, including the last due diligence items and the Caspian patent dispute issues.”

“Yeah, sorry I couldn't be there to close the deal,” he said, evenly. “I just had no choice. It was critical.” He paused a moment and took a long pull on his drink. The glass was empty and signaled the bartender for another. “So what do you think about the issues?”

“I think the financials work, although I told them we wouldn't sign off until we had the audited versions. They say that will be on Monday. As to the patent issue, entirely outside my area of expertise, but I have a few questions about the due diligence documents they provided.”

He grinned. “Nice work, Sarah. I really can depend on you.” She smiled, but said nothing. “You have some good things ahead for you in this company,” he added.

“Thanks,” she said.

They were quiet while he quickly finished his second drink and ordered a third. He drank it down in two pulls, while Sarah had one more sip of her wine. Her glass was still half-full, but she was tired and didn't want any more. “Okay, boss, I have to get some sleep so I can get up for my presentation in the morning.”

“Sure,” Nolan said, grinning. He dropped thirty dollars on the table and stood up. “Stop by my room long enough to pick up a couple of documents that I want you to get a look at.”

It wasn't a question. She felt uncomfortable, but wanted to show him she was part of his critical team, so she said, “Okay.”

“I'm in 1474,” he said.

Just like the office, he was posted one floor above her, she thought, because this hotel didn't have a thirteenth floor. Somehow, hoteliers believed that if they didn't label the floor as number 13, the consumer wouldn't figure out that number 14 is really the thirteenth floor. They walked silently to the elevator. As the elevator rose rapidly, Nolan said, “I'm really sorry I couldn't be there tonight. I know that must have been difficult, but you carried if off beautifully.”

“I guess we'll see about that when you start getting calls from Langley asking why they didn't get the guy at the top.”

They stepped out of the elevator and walked half way down the hall until they came to room 1474. Nolan waved his key card and they walked into a suite with a big living room and a bar. “Want a night cap?” he asked.

“No, Jim. I'm okay.”

He nodded and then walked to the coffee table and pulled a couple of documents from a file. He walked back to where she waited and handed them to her. As he handed the documents to her, he said, “These are first level financials for a new acquisition under consideration. Debt level seems high, but I want to know what you think about the organization's earnings projections.”

She felt a sense of relief that he had documents to give her. “Great,” she said. “Happy to give them a once over.”

He smiled and said, “Thanks. We can talk about it over the next couple of days.”

She nodded and said, “Good night.” As she turned to leave, he grabbed her arm, pushed her up against the wall and held her while he kissed her. She was momentarily stunned, and then pulled away. She looked at him angrily and yelled, “No!” and then she found her legs and walked out the door, slamming it behind her. She shivered as she walked down the corridor toward the elevators. “Holy shit,” she said. “I can't fucking believe it.” She wondered if she had been stern enough in shutting him down. They were going to have a talk about this when they got home. This was not okay. She walked into her room and locked the deadbolt. She leaned against the door, still shaking. Sarah wasn't tired anymore, as she paced the room, playing what had just happened over in her mind. It was just the drinks, she told herself. He would be embarrassed by all of this tomorrow. She began to slow her pulse as she put it in this perspective. She called John and got voicemail again. This time she didn't leave a message. She wished he was with her now to help her see this right and to make her feel better. He had a way of making her comfortable when she was worried. She was glad that her desire to retreat to him for comfort hadn't been a casualty of the distance between them.

Sarah took off her suit and hung it up. She found a hotel robe in the closet and put it on over her bra and panties, and began getting ready for bed. She removed her makeup and brushed her teeth. As she finished, and thought about how good it was going to feel to climb into bed, there was a knock on her door. She said nothing and the knocking came again.

“Who is it?”

“It's me, Sarah,” Jim Nolan said through the door.

“What do you want?”

“I just want to talk to you for one minute.” There was silence. “Sarah, I want to apologize for what happened in my room. I should not have done that.”

“Fine, you can apologize more in the morning, Jim.”

“Just one minute of your time.”

“Tomorrow, Jim,” she said again.

“Please Sarah, I just want one minute. It's really important.”

She hesitated again, and then opened the deadbolt and the door. “Can I come in; just for a moment?”

“I'm not okay with what happened, Jim. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know that,” he said, pushing past her and closing the door behind him as he stepped into the room.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “Please leave. Now!”

He nodded and said, “Okay,” but didn't move. He stared at her, causing her to draw her robe around her tighter.

“Get out of my room,” she ordered.

“You are one beautiful woman, Sarah. You are so gorgeous.” He moved towards her and put his arms around her as she pushed him away. “Stop it, God damn it, stop it.”

He grabbed her wrists and pushed her back onto the bed. Then he climbed on top of her. “You and I are a team, Sarah. I can make your life great.”

She began yelling, “Get off, you son of a bitch. Get off me.”

He pulled the robe open and began tugging at her underwear. She let out a scream and then there was a sudden pain as he slapped her hard across the face. He tore off her underwear and then he was pushing himself into her. “You know that you want this Sarah. I can make you feel great.”

“Stop it. Get off. Stop it.” She began to scream and he put his hand over her mouth, pushing her hard into the bed. She slapped and pushed at him with everything she had, and he held tighter and pushed into her harder. It was hurting now. She pushed hard at his nose, and then she grabbed at his eyes. He lowered his head and thrust harder and harder into her. Sarah heard herself crying. She was unable to move. She turned her head and tried to yell, but his hand tightly covered her mouth. She pushed and scratched at him, but he thrust harder into her. She punched at him with everything she had, and it made no difference. The punches didn't land.

She could do nothing to stop him. She told herself that she would live through this; that she could survive it. He thrusted harder. He was hurting her so much, and he didn't care. He was taking everything from her; everything she had spent her whole life building. She was suddenly weak. She was a victim he could use and throw away. It crossed her mind that he might even kill her. He yelled out as he came inside her and she cried out, with a clenched hand across her mouth. She punched at him hard, without landing a blow that had any effect. She laid on the bed crying and hurting, as he stood and pulled up his pants, and then moved quickly out the door without speaking a word.

She stayed on the bed crying; shaking uncontrollably for a long, immeasurable time. She wasn't sure if minutes or hours passed before she ran to the door and locked it. Then she found herself beating on the door with her fists. She walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She was sobbing, and she was hurt. There was blood on her. Her whole body was shaking hard, and uncontrollably, as she climbed into the shower and tried to scrub him off. She washed again and again, but she couldn't seem to get clean. She had no idea how long she was in the shower, scrubbing and crying. It was a terrible nightmare that would never end. When she stepped from the shower, she left the water running. She put two towels around her, covering herself from shoulders to knees, and then she sat down on the bathroom floor next to the toilet and sobbed aloud. She could not control her crying. The violation was so deep that she thought she would never stop crying, and she would never stand up again. Minutes, and then hours, passed, as Sarah sat on the floor, shivering from deep within her and crying, never stopping the water that ran in the shower. She couldn't move. She felt all that every woman who had been raped felt: anger, sorrow, helplessness and the most abhorrent, intimate violation possible.

At 3:30 a.m., Sarah managed to regain a sense of her surroundings. She packed her bag and left the hotel. She summoned a Lyft and went to the airport to get on the earliest flight home. The Lyft driver watched her in the rear view mirror with compassion, as she cried. He could see the despair, and really wanted to help, but had no idea what to say. Immense sorrow and pain filled her eyes, as she left the Lyft car, and moved slowly toward the terminal pulling her bag.

Chapter Two

The plane landed and Sarah drove home in a fog. She felt alone and isolated. Entirely out of character, she was not going to attend her morning presentation. She hadn't even called anyone to tell them she wouldn't make it. Her part of the presentation just wouldn't happen. She hadn't called John to tell him what had happened. She was afraid to tell him; afraid and ashamed. He would be angry. He would want to kill Nolan. And worse yet, he might start to look at her differently. What had she done to encourage this? How did she let herself get into this situation? She had asked herself countless times why she had opened the door to her room. Why she had let him in after he had forcibly kissed her? She felt foolish and blameworthy. She was partly responsible for this. Sarah had always told herself that she was a strong woman and that something like this could never happen to her. She always thought she could be in control in any situation.

Sarah arrived home at 10:30 a.m. and immediately turned on the shower. She took off her clothes, climbed under the showerhead and began to soap herself, over and over again. The memory and the trauma could not be washed away. She couldn't make herself clean again, and she felt like she was falling from a cliff; no control and no way out. Sarah knew that the rape had taken away parts of her that she could not reclaim. She had been damaged.

Sarah dried off and put on a nightgown. She knew that she should seek medical attention, but she didn't want to tell anyone. She wasn't ready to face what had happened to her, and all that it would mean. She climbed into bed, and cried until she drifted off into a troubled sleep. At 7:00 p.m., John came home and found her in bed. She wanted so badly to tell him what had happened, and how she had been violated, but she couldn't find the words. She heard herself tell him that she was feeling under the weather, even while she was pulling the covers to her chin to conceal the remaining bruise discoloration on her arms, shoulders and neck. He kissed her and tucked the covers over her. He told her that she had been pushing herself too hard and that she needed to give herself a chance to recover. He asked if she needed medicine or food and she said no to everything. She told him that she just needed rest.

He closed the bedroom door, not knowing of the trauma that his wife had endured. It was a second awful day when she didn't get help, and when she kept a terrible secret. A second terrible day when she wasn't sure that she wanted to live anymore. It felt like an eternity.

On Friday morning, John kissed her and asked if he could get breakfast for her. She refused. She was still under the weather, but things would get better. She had to promise him that if she didn't feel better by tomorrow, she would make a doctor's appointment.

Sarah stayed in bed all morning. She drifted off to sleep for short periods and then awoke to the stark reality, rediscovering the nightmare all over again. She sat up in bed and found herself sobbing uncontrollably. After a time, she got up and put on a robe. She made her way into the bathroom and opened up the medicine cabinet. She considered the bottles on the shelf. There was a full bottle of aspirin, and there were a number of Vicodin left over from John's old back injury. She stood staring into the cabinet, wondering whether there were enough pills there to allow her to end the pain that inflicted her every waking moment. She wasn't sure, and she didn't want John to come home and find her. She told herself that there had to be another way through this.

Sarah walked around the house, aimlessly looking for some diversion from the reality that tore her apart. She took a seat in the living room and stared out the living room window, not noticing the sunny day outside. A dark cloud had taken her mind, and seemed to be closing in on her. Her life had been taken away from her, and there seemed to be no point in continuing.

At 1:00 p.m. her phone rang. The caller ID said it was Angie Barnett, her best friend since college. She let it ring three times, and then hit the button. “Angie,” she said, tearfully.

“Sarah, what's wrong.” There was silence. “Sarah, what is it.”

“Angie, I was raped,” she cried out, the words pouring out of her, almost involuntarily.

“Are you at home?”

“Yes.”

“I'll be there in twenty minutes.”

Sarah felt some small measure of relief in telling her friend about the nightmare she had been secreting. She put on coffee and sat at the kitchen table to wait for her friend. She didn't have to wait long. There was a knock at the front door and Angie was calling her name. “Sarah, it's me. Let me in.”

Sarah walked to the front door and opened it slowly. Angie threw her arms around Sarah as soon as she stepped inside. “My God, Sarah, are you okay?”

Sarah shook her head. “No, I don't think so.”

“What happened? Who did this to you?” Her friend was angry, and ready to fight.

“Thank you for coming, Angie. I don't think I've ever needed a friend like I do today.”

They sat down on the couch and Angie took Sarah's hands in hers, and didn't let go for two hours as Sarah told her the story. The kiss in his room, his invasion into her room and what he did to her. She told Angie about her guilt and shame. She should never have let him in. She should never have been in a situation where that could happen.

Angie shook her head. “Right, and people shouldn't be where robberies occur so they don't get robbed or shot. This is not your fault, Sarah. This is that fucking pig you work for and he needs to be held accountable.” She took a deep breath, fighting back anger she felt toward the man who attacked her friend. “Are you okay, physically?”

“Not great. The pain isn't what it was, but I'm sore. It's a constant reminder of what he did. Not that I need to be reminded.” She drew a breath, and then added, “I had a little bruising on my face from where he slapped me. I put make-up over it when I got home, and now it's pretty much faded.”

“Have you seen anyone? I mean a doctor?”

“No.”

“Did you call the cops?”

Sarah was quiet and then said. “I thought about it a lot, but I worry about what comes from all that.”

“What do you mean?” Angela blurted out excitedly, “You have to turn this sick mother fucker in.”

“You know what they do to women who come forward. They say that she wanted it, and now she's had second thoughts because she's married. She's a whore. Let's explore her sexual history and see what we can find to attack. Jesus, Angie, the victim of rape gets to be the victim over and over again.”

“I understand,” Angie said softly, “but the alternative is to let this shit go on every day; to let him do it again.”

Sarah was silent a few moments and then said, “I just don't know if I can face all that.”

“Since when?” Angie said. “The Sarah that I know can stand up to any man and demand accountability. There is no way she lets him get away with this.” She paused and said, “I know that a large number of women who have been raped or sexually assaulted never come forward because it's so hard, but that only assures two things. The first is that the woman remains a victim for the rest of her life, and the second is that the son of bitch just walks free to do it to someone else.”

Sarah nodded. “But how do I escape feeling so ashamed about it all? Part of me just wants to never speak of it again.”

“Yeah, that's what your boss wants, too.” She reflected a moment and then asked, “Have you told John yet?”

Sarah silently shook her head.

“You need to tell him, Sarah. If you don't it becomes a trust issue between you and John.”

Sarah nodded slowly. “I know that you're right. I just haven't wanted to face that conversation. I'll tell him tonight.”

“And go see a counselor, and a lawyer, right away.”

“A lawyer?”

“Yes, damn it. This is not okay and this asshole needs to know it's not okay.”

“What did you tell work about why you're not there?”

“Nothing. I haven't called anyone.”

“All right. Ask the lawyer what you should do about that.”

“I don't know which lawyer to call.”

Angie pulled out her cell and dialed a number. “Justin Evans, please. This is Angela Barnett.” There was a slight pause and then Angie said, “Justin, you were telling me about a good employment lawyer on the employee side recently, you remember that?” Angie pulled a pen and paper from her purse during the brief silence that followed. “Yeah, I have a close friend who has a significant employment issue.” Angie scratched some information onto the page and then asked, “This is the guy you most recommend?” Another pause. “Great. Thanks, Justin.”

She handed Sarah the paper. “You need to call, Scott Winslow at Simmons and Winslow. Here's his info.”

“That name is familiar somehow.”

“Good employment lawyer. He got a big verdict against Consolidated Energy last year for a whistleblower.”

“I think I remember hearing about that case.”

“Promise me two things, Sarah. Promise me that after you tell John, you'll see a counselor and that you'll make an appointment to see Scott Winslow.” Sarah looked worried, so Angie added, “You don't have to commit to do anything more, but go talk to him.”

Sarah was momentarily quiet and then she nodded slowly. “Okay, I will.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” Sarah hugged her friend and said, “Thank you so much, Angie.” She was quiet a moment and then asked, “Can you stay with me until John comes home tonight? The world looks a little better when I'm with you.”

“You bet. Let's go get some coffee and get down to some real girl talk.” She smiled. “We can get through this together.”

* * *

At 5:00 p.m., Sarah called John and asked him to come home early. She told him it was important and they needed to talk. He said he would leave right away.

When they hung up, Angie said, “This will be hard for him, too, Sarah, but he's not the victim here, you are. And you do not have a thing to apologize for. You just want everyone on your team to help you. That's what John needs to keep as his priority.”

“You are amazing, Angie. I don't know what I would do without you.”

“You will never have to know that, my friend.”

They hugged each other, holding tight. When they pulled back, Sarah could see that Angie was crying.

As John walked in, Angie hugged him and said, “She needs your help, John.”

He looked puzzled as Angie walked out of the house. He turned to Sarah and said, “What is it, sweetheart? What's happening?”

They sat down next to each other on the couch and she said, “I need you to listen carefully and not overreact, because that will make it worse.”

“Okay,” he said, and waited for her to continue.

“I was raped Wednesday night.”

“What? Oh, my God. Are you okay?”

“I'm not great, but I'm doing my best to hang in there.”

He threw his arms around her and held her tight. She stayed in his arms for what seemed like minutes. He pulled back and looked into her eyes, keeping his arms around her neck, and trying to suppress his own emotional reaction, knowing he needed to see through the anger. He had to be a calming influence and listen carefully to her.

“Who did this?”

“Jim Nolan.”

“Jesus. Your boss raped you?” Anxiety filled his face. “You need a doctor. Did you get checked out?”

“I haven't seen anyone yet. Physically, I'll heal. I'm just sore.”

“Jesus Christ, that son of a bitch.”

She gave him a moment and then said. “It happened at the hotel on Wednesday night after we both came back from our meetings. He pushed me against a wall and kissed me and I walked away. Then he came to my room and knocked. He told me it was to apologize for his behavior.”

“Oh, shit,” John muttered, anger getting the better of him. “I'll kill that…”

“John. Just listen to me, please.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, trying to regain control.

She took him through all of it. Everything that happened.

“I feel so ashamed, John. I shouldn't have opened that door. Maybe I should have done something else differently.”

When he saw the hurt and fear in Sarah's eyes, he set aside his anger and put his arms around her. “Sweetheart, you did nothing wrong. Nothing. And together we will make it through all of this, I promise.”

She teared up and said, “I'm so sorry, John. And I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. Some crazy part of me thought that you would think less of me for letting it happen.”

He held her close and told her, “I love you so much. I'm so sorry for what you're going through.” He suppressed flashes of anger that arose in the midst of his overwhelming feelings of sorrow and compassion for the woman he loved. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to cry. He wanted to kill James Nolan.

Chapter Three

On Monday morning, Sarah walked into Scott Winslow's office. Donna greeted her in the lobby. “Ms. Willis?”

“Yes,” Sarah said, shaking Donna's extended hand.

“I'm Scott's paralegal, Donna. We talked on the phone.” Donna is one of those people that everyone is glad to meet. She has a warm smile, and a disarming manner that puts people at ease.

“Yes, I remember you,” Sarah said. “When we talked on the phone, you made me feel less nervous about coming here.”

Donna saw the concern in her eyes and said. “You can be sure that Scott and I will keep your confidences. We want to help you if we can.”

Sarah nodded, but “I'm not sure if anyone can,” were the words that came out.

“Let us try,” Donna said. “Do you want some coffee?”

“No, I'm okay,” she replied.

“Let's go back to the conference room,” Donna said. “Scott will join us there.”

They sat down in adjacent chairs around a marble conference room table that seated eight. The room was decorated with warm landscapes. Donna said, “Whatever you elect to do, as a woman I want you to know that I am so sorry. No woman should ever have to face what you did. Not ever.”

Scott Winslow appeared at the door. He was over six feet and slender. He had brown hair and blue eyes. He smiled in Sarah's direction and extended a hand. “Good morning, Sarah. I'm so glad you had a chance to talk to Donna. You've probably already figured out why she is my right hand.”

“I think I have,” Sarah said. “Thanks for fitting me in on short notice. Quite frankly, I was not inclined to come at all, but my best friend and my husband made me promise that I would.”

Scott closed the conference room door and sat down directly across the table from Sarah, armed with a yellow legal pad and a pen. Donna was on his left, at the end of the table. “So, Sarah, this is kind of a hard conversation. I have to ask you things that you would rather not discuss, so that I can properly evaluate the situation and assess the terrain for you. Part of my job is to give you my thoughts about a potential case, including any bad news.” He smiled at her and added, “Two things I can tell you. First, we are on your team, no one else's. Secondly, regardless of whether we go forward on your behalf, everything you tell us is confidential and will not be shared beyond those who work with this office on your behalf. Okay?”

“I appreciate that,” Sarah replied.

“Can you take me through it?” Scott asked. “Tell me about the circumstances that got you to Seattle and then tell me everything that happened while you were there through the time of the attack.”

Sarah took them through all of it. The request that she attend a meeting with Nolan in Seattle and his last minute failure to attend, leaving her to go alone to a meeting not within her usual purview. She told them of his request that she meet him in the lounge, and his consumption of three drinks, while she sipped on a glass of wine. She told them of the discussion that occurred and how he asked her to make a stop in his room to pick up documents. Then she told them about being pushed against the wall and kissed and running from his room. Scott observed that discomfort was visible in both her eyes and her body language as she spoke. She told them about Nolan showing up outside her room, saying he wanted to apologize, and she told them that, after he asked a few times, she had foolishly let him into her room to apologize. Then she cried as she discussed what he did to her, and how she tried so helplessly to fight. Scott and Donna nodded understandingly, and both took copious notes. Scott periodically asked questions and reassured her that she should continue. When she completed her story, Scott said, “Do you want some water before we continue?”

She nodded, and he left the room for a minute. He returned with water for all three of them. He sat back down and said, “I have to ask you some tough questions, Sarah.”

“You mean it hasn't been tough so far?” she replied.

Scott smiled at her, and said, “I'm glad you still have your sense of humor. That says something about your strength of character.” He paused and then said, “I have to ask things that are uncomfortable because I need to know the answers to assess the matter legally, and because others will pose these questions if the matter goes further. Are you okay with that?”

“I am,” Sarah said, looking to Scott and then to Donna. “I feel safe here.”

“That's good, Sarah, and you should. We asked you to come to this meeting alone today because your husband's presence might make it hard for you to answer sensitive questions. After today, your husband can come along with you to any meeting you want him to attend.” He paused and then asked, “Had you ever had any personal relationship with Nolan? Anything sexual?”

“No, absolutely not.”

“Even a flirtation?”

“He flirted, telling me how 'hot' I was, but there was no flirting by me.”

Sarah's eyes showed fear and worry. Donna touched Sarah on the arm, and when Sarah looked at her, said reassuringly, “You're doing great.”

Scott smiled at Sarah and said, “Tell me if you need a break. I know this is hard.”

“I'm okay,” Sarah said, beginning to feel like she was among people she could trust.

“Take me through what happened from the time Nolan left your room after the rape through today. Everything you have done and all conversations that have happened.”

She told them everything. She spoke of sitting on the bathroom floor until she left the hotel. She spoke of her withdrawal and isolation until her friend Angie came to her rescue. Donna took Angie's contact information.

“Did you report this to the police?” Scott asked.

“No,” she replied, sounding apologetic.

“When did you first tell your husband?”

“After my friend, Angie, came over and we talked on Friday.”

“She was the first one you confided in?”

“So, why not him?”

Sarah shook her head. “It was so hard to tell him that I was attacked by someone. I knew what kind of pain he would feel, and how angry he would be at Nolan.”

“Did you have any hesitation that he might not believe you? That he would think there was something between the two of you?”

“No, although at some level maybe I feared he might think I didn't do enough to prevent it. I feel like such an idiot for opening that door.”

“And why didn't you go to the police with this?”

Sarah sat back in her chair and drew a deep breath. “At first, I thought I should just live with this; that I was strong enough to get past it alone and never speak of it to anyone. Then, I slowly realized that I was not okay anymore—that I was really damaged. For a time, I wasn't even sure that I wanted to live. Even once Angie broke through and helped me see that I needed to stand up, the idea of going to the police sounded horrible; to live the violation all over again as you get questioned about every detail, and to have cops and everyone who sees it in the media wonder if I'm lying, rather than the victim of a crime. I've seen it happen to women who come forward and it all seems to compound the abominable crime already endured.”

“It does, Sarah. There is no doubt about that. But it's the only system we have,” Scott said. “Is there any physical evidence of what occurred? Clothing, injuries, anything at all?”

She showed him the remnant of a bruise on her neck and one on her arm.”

“Have you photographed the bruises?”

“I did, but not until last night.”

“Any other evidence?”

“I still have my torn underwear.”

“Good, bag them up and keep them safe.” Scott paused and then asked, “Sarah, what do you think that Jim Nolan is going to say when confronted with allegations of rape?”

She shook her head. “He will deny anything ever happened or he will say it was voluntary is my guess. Rapists don't admit that they raped someone, do they? Seems like they never own what they've done.”

Scott nodded. “That's right. Even in sexual harassment cases that don't involve acts as horrific as rape, they never admit what they've done. They always say it never happened, or it was consensual, or some combination of those things. In over twenty years of practice, I have never seen anyone stand up and say, “Yep. I did it.” So, you can be assured all of this will be a fight and they will make us prove it happened while he goes on pretending he's a nice guy who would never do anything like this.” Sarah nodded. “You should know that delayed reporting of the crime will be a point of attack for the defense.”

“They are going to say it didn't happen because I didn't report it?”

“Yes. They will twist it. They will say that if you claim it was so awful, why did you stay silent? Is that because you were raped or because you slept with your boss, and then had second thoughts? Maybe, this was a way to keep your husband from finding out about an affair.”

“This is going to be awful,” Sarah said softly, a tormented expression on her face.

“They will urge that if this had really happened, wouldn't she have gone to the hospital, to the police or at least promptly told her husband?”

“It's a hopeless trap,” she said, shaking her head.

“You can deal with it, you just have to know that it is something you will have to face. If you elect to pursue legal action against Nolan and the Company, that's what you are getting into. I don't want you to be surprised and I want to be able to give you time to consider it all.”

“So tell me in your words, what caused you to delay reporting this crime?”

She took a moment and then replied, “I have been a successful, independent woman all of my adult life. I have always found a way to handle everything that comes along, and that ability to handle anything has become part of my self-image. Then something happened that I never imagined, and it's tied to the place where I have built my career. So, it feels like everything is on the line.” She shook her head and then said, “I thought that I could handle everything that happened in life, and it turns out that I can't. I'm also afraid that if I report this crime, it's his word against mine. I will have to relive all the details of the most horrific hours of my life, and then maybe no one believes me. It feels like a no-win situation.”

Scott nodded. “Do you feel like you have blame for what happened to you?”

Sarah teared up and said, “I guess I do.”

“Why?”

“I should have been smarter. I never should have opened the door to my hotel room.”

“Why did you open the door?”

She shook her head. “I actually believed he was there to apologize for forcing the kiss. I was so dammed stupid.”

Scott said, “I want you to know that I believe you.” He took a deep breath and asked, “When, if at all, do you plan to go back to work?”

“Maybe, tomorrow.”

“Before you do, file a police report. Then go to your Human Resources Department and report what happened. Don't discuss it around the office, but be consistent whenever you describe what happened. This was not your fault, this was all about a rapist. That's what you tell them.”

“I've worked with human resources executives a number of times. They know me pretty well, so I hope they can be fair.”

Scott gave her a concerned look, and then said, “What you need to know is that dealing with human resources is the ultimate two-edged sword. It's where employees have to go to report harassment, discrimination and a wide variety of problems, right? Most employee handbooks tell you that's where you have to take any concern. They take it even further and point out that employees can be subject to discipline for a failure to report harassment, discrimination or other unlawful conduct.”

“Right,” Sarah said.

“The problem is,” Scott said, “they are also the department charged with protecting the company from liability and their personnel are judged based upon how well they do that. The law says they have to investigate harassment, discrimination and other types of claims. Their people get trained on conducting investigations. But the findings and quality of that investigation often determine whether the company will be held accountable. As a result, human resource representatives are trained to think in terms of how to protect the company. They protect themselves and their future by protecting the company, and sometimes they protect the company by preparing an investigation report that the company wants to see. If an investigation is successfully used to shield the company from liability, the human resources employee is going to get accolades, and maybe his next raise. If that investigation doesn't protect the company from a verdict, the investigator, and maybe the other human resource reps involved, may not be so popular.” She looked concerned, but stayed silent. Scott gave her a smile and said, “So, the reason I tell you all this is that you may be surprised about the extent to which human resources will go to protect the company's interests at your expense. They may choose to believe Nolan or they give too much weight to the fact that this was not reported for a few days. Or they may recite the facts differently than the way they actually happened because it favors the result they want to achieve.”

“So, what's the point in going through this process if the deck can be stacked at the outset?”

“Because you have to do it. If you don't, they take you through the employee handbook you signed, pointing out where you are obligated to report such events to human resources. But if you go through the process, you have complied with the requirements, and I can use the results. If they get facts wrong, if they misstate what witnesses say, if they leave out critical details or don't speak to witnesses, then I can go after them for all of those things and challenge whether the investigation is legally adequate.”

“Okay, so I go through this and give them every opportunity to get it right, or to screw it up.”

“Exactly. When you talk to the investigator, tell him or her about every time Nolan said or did something inappropriate; leave out nothing. When they ask you about witnesses, disclose anyone who is a witness to anything that happened. I know he did this stuff when no one was with you, but witnesses include people that you told about the events shortly after they happened. The fact that you told someone else adds to the credibility of your claims, and all of this is a credibility contest between you and Nolan.”

“I understand,” Sarah said.

“One more thing.” Scott said, “Take a recorder and when the investigator meets with you to take your statement, tell him that you want to record the conversation. If the investigator is electronically recording, then the interview does not go forward unless you get to record, too. If he or she is not recording, chances are they still let you do it. Then we have the actual exchanges on record and they just have notes. If they are not recording and they don't let you record it, we'll use that fact as well.”

“Can they fire me if I bring a lawsuit?”