Without Consent Read Online Free PDF

down.
    Veronica Slater stood, a little over five foot tall, in heels that even a supermodel would balk at.
    “The alleged victim thinks something terrible happened to her in that hotel room. Actually, she isn’t even sure that’s what she thinks. You see, she cannot remember anything about the hotel room or the defendants, whom she danced with at the graduation dance. She can’t identify people she thinks attacked her, and the physical evidence doesn’t prove she was in any way violated. We’ve heard about the carpet burns to her nose from Doctor Crichton. This young woman passed out on the floor of the carpeted hotel room. No one disputes that. These two young men, friends since childhood,” she emphasized the word, “helped lift her onto a lounge to be more comfortable. Lifting an unconscious woman who weighs, what, around eighty-five kilograms?” She paused and pointed in Naomi’s direction for effect.
    Great, Anya thought, the girl’s weight was now on trial.
    Veronica continued. “These young men aren’t experienced in carrying a drunk woman. So they did the best they could, awkwardly lifting her onto a lounge.” She paused and clasped both hands. “I don’t doubt that Naomi Gallagher is distressed by her own behavior that night and panicked at the thought of what she might have done. But to save face, she vindictively accused these two young men of a heinous crime. Teenage girls are renowned for their melodramatics and cattiness, but this accusation goes way beyond that.”
    Anya watched the predictable palms-up for emphasis. Next there would be counting points on one hand.
    “It is malicious, vicious and completely unfounded.” The hands obliged.
    Veronica Slater continued with the usual spiel about false accusations being so easy to make, and told the jury they had no choice but to acquit her clients and restore their good names.
    That line always amused Anya, given the names of the accused in sexual-assault cases involving minors were not disclosed in the media. Even so, the jurors nodded in agreement.
    Anya had heard enough. The files from Dan Brody had been delivered that morning and there were more departmental meetings to attend. Part-time work with a sexual-assault unit really meant full time, only part pay. She stood, followed protocol and nodded at the judge before slipping out the back door.
    Naomi’s father sat on the step outside, covering his face with large, calloused hands. Anya pretended not to notice his moist, bloodshot eyes when he looked up.
    “After everything my little girl’s been through, those bastards are gonna get away with it.” He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “What sort of justice is that?”
    Anya never knew what to say in these situations, no matter how many times she went through it with family members and victims. Undecided whether to stand or sit down with him, she was almost relieved when her pager went off, reminding her of a meeting.
    “Tell me this, Doc. What sort of a message does it send those lying, raping pricks? That they can get away with anything? Jesus, are we supposed to thank them because they attacked her when she was unconscious and didn’t bash her? Should we be grateful she can’t remember a bloody thing?” He bowed his head, silenced by the procession of people filing out of the courtroom. The distraught father stood, wiped his hands on his shirt and greeted his family with a forced smile.
    There was nothing more Anya could do here. She quietly left, with a sense of foreboding. Judging by Veronica Slater’s performance, the boys were about to be acquitted, and Naomi would spend the rest of her life trying to deal with it.

6
     
    After a week of television punctuated by nightly walks with the labrador pup, Lillian Willard persuaded her son to venture out to the shopping center.
    They waited patiently for the bus with a couple of other people, and Geoff kept his head down, hoping not to be noticed. Luckily, no one looked twice