Running from the Law Read Online Free PDF

no, but he forced me. He leaned me backward over the chair and his hand went up my shirt. I should have stopped him, I know. It sounds silly now, but I felt embarrassed. I felt like I shouldn’t say anything, and that’s what he said later. He said everything would be all right if I didn’t tell.”
    “Did you tell him to stop or not? Yes or no?”
    “Well, no. And then at lunchtime he would call me in and touch me that way, do that to me.” Her voice cracked and she reached for her water, drinking it thirstily. “Then one day he went all the way.”
    It didn’t ring true. “Do you mean he had sex with you?”
    “Yes. Yes, that’s what I mean. At noon, in his chambers. Sometimes he would have sex with me, sometimes he would want me to … do things, you know, to him. He told me he would take care of me, and I didn’t have to worry about anything if I kept doing it. And didn’t tell anyone.”
    A look of concern crossed Julicher’s oversized features, and I knew why. It didn’t sound like the typical pattern of sexual harassment. Still, there was something there, some kernel of truth. I took a flier. “Miss Sullivan, did Judge Hamilton ever send you flowers?”
    “What?” Julicher said. “What’s the point of that?”
    “It’s a question.”
    “I thought we were following the complaint.”
    “It’s my deposition. I write the script.”
    “It’s easier for the witness if you follow the complaint.”
    Because that’s what you prepped her on? I ignored him and looked directly at the witness. “Miss Sullivan, my question was, did Judge Hamilton ever send you flowers?” Some men are card senders, some men are flower senders, and some men are jerks. Fiske was a flower sender.
    “Uh … yes.”
    Julicher looked at her, surprised. He evidently hadn’t thought of that. Maybe because he was a jerk.
    “Did he send you the flowers at home or at work?”
    “At home.”
    I checked my notes. “In the roughly seven months you worked for Judge Hamilton, how many times would you say he sent you flowers?”
    Her forehead creased again. “I don’t know. I don’t remember exactly.”
    “Would you say they came often or rarely?”
    “Uh, often, I guess.”
    “Don’t guess,” Julicher said in a growl.
    And don’t lie. “Miss Sullivan, would you say that Judge Hamilton sent you flowers three times in seven months?”
    “Uh, no.”
    “More times or fewer times?”
    She shifted in her chair. “I don’t remember.”
    She did remember, a fool could see it. “Did the judge send you flowers more than three times in seven months? Before you answer, I remind you that you are under oath.”
    “Objection!” Julicher said. “There’s no call for that!”
    “More,” Patricia answered, agitated. “More than three times. But … I don’t know how much. How many.”
    Julicher’s thick lips formed an unhappy line and he scribbled another note on his legal pad.
    “Miss Sullivan, which florist did the flowers come from?”
    “Cowan’s, I think.”
    The best in Wayne. I made a note to get a para-legal on it, to see if it was a standing order. Then I remembered something. Fiske had a thing about spider mums. He thought they symbolized true love and they were the subject of countless courtship stories told by his devoted wife, Kate. “What kind of flowers did the judge send you, Miss Sullivan?”
    “Objection as to relevance!” Julicher shouted, tossing his pen onto the table, where it skidded into the stack of exhibits.
    “Answer the question, Miss Sullivan.”
    Patricia looked from me to Julicher. “Do I have to answer? Does this matter, Stan?”
    “Of course not,” Julicher said. “Come off it, Rita. The line of questioning is irrelevant.”
    “It’s highly relevant, and you can’t object to relevance during a deposition anyway. Let her answer the question or I’ll call Judge McKelvey and get a ruling.”
    Julicher scowled, then looked away, simmering. “Go ahead, Patricia. It’s ridiculous,