Motion to Dismiss by Jonnie Jacobs Read Free Book Online Page A

whether as a sign of approval or boredom, it was hard to tell. He'd been eyeing Deirdre Nichols as though she were the most captivating creature he'd seen in weeks, but at his age, even enchantment was no match for weariness.
    "You testified earlier that you work as a receptionist at a hair salon called Rapunzel," I said. "And that you've worked there for approximately six months."
    "Right."
    "Where were you employed previously?"
    "Well, I was out of a job for a while, but before I got laid off, I worked at a dress shop on Lakeshore Avenue." A flicker of a smile, a look in the eyes that said, Am I doing okay?
    I nodded. "You also do house-sitting for additional income, is that right?"
    "Yes. I stay in people's homes, take care of animals and watering, and generally keep an eye on the place while the owners are away."
    "The night in question, you were living in a house in the Oakland hills?"
    "I still am. The couple whose house it is are on an extended trip." She looked up at the judge and then back to me. "They have cockatoos that need to be cared for."
    Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of Grady, eyes straight ahead, his expression still poker stiff. Turning back to the witness, I asked, "Do you have a home of your own?"
    Deirdre licked her lips, adding extra luster to the soft pink mouth. "Not at the moment. In between house-sitting jobs I live with my sister in Piedmont."
    "Now, Ms. Nichols -- " I stopped myself mid-sentence. "Do you prefer Ms. or Mrs.?"
    "Either one is fine."
    "Nichols is your married name?"
    She nodded.
    "Are you currently married?" Not that it mattered, but stereotypes die hard, especially among the older judges. Divorcee has a different connotation than virgin , and I wanted to do what I could to paint Deirdre Nichols as other than the sweet young thing she was trying so hard to appear.
    Deirdre shook her head to my question. "No, I'm not married at the present."
    Point made. I added a mental check mark to the list in my head. As an afterthought I asked, "How long have you been divorced?"
    Her eyes widened with ingenuous confusion. "Oh, I'm not divorced. I'm a widow."
    Widow? Shit, just what we didn't need. More sympathy for the victim. And I'd walked right into it.
    Judge Riley's brow crumpled with feeling. If he'd been conducting a symphony, we'd have had a crescendo of violins.
    I turned and caught Madelaine's smirk. Without missing a beat I asked, "How long have you been widowed?"
    "Almost five years. My husband died when Adrianna, that's my daughter, was two." Deirdre's green eyes clouded at the memory. She looked down at her hands. "I'm so glad Adrianna wasn't at the house the night Grady Barrett raped me."
    "Ms. Nichols, simply answer the question." I spoke sharply, then backtracked. "Please." I softened it further with the hint of a smile.
    Deirdre looked startled, like a child reprimanded for an unfamiliar wrong. "Sorry, I didn't mean to -- "
    Judge Riley leaned in the direction of the witness box. "You're doing fine," he said. "Just try to focus on the question."
    Deirdre nodded. She glanced at Grady, then turned away, but I saw that hurt had clouded her expression.
    I picked up again, reminding myself that I was doing this for Nina more than for Grady. "During these past five years I assume you've dated other men?"
    Madelaine voiced an objection, which Riley overruled.
    "Not at first," Deirdre said. "But then, yes."
    As she'd done periodically throughout her testimony, Deirdre looked in the direction of a tall, angular woman seated in the visitors' section of the courtroom. I'd assumed at first that the woman was a court-appointed victims' advocate, but I'd learned during break that she was Deirdre's sister.
    "Are you seeing anyone on a regular basis at the present time?" I asked.
    Deirdre hesitated. "What do you mean by regular basis?"
    "A steady boyfriend, someone you've been dating for a period of time, maybe exclusively."
    Her gaze darted across the room again, but in a