Wrongful Death by Robert Dugoni Read Free Book Online Page A

from Hastings and had a practice for about a dozen years in the city before moving here a couple years ago.”
    “What brought you to Seattle?”
    “My wife took a job here as a partner in an architecture firm with a friend. If I wanted to marry her, I had to move.”
    Kannin nodded. “Ah. Love. How do you like Seattle?”
    “The summers are easy. It’s taken a bit to acclimate to the winters. Bought my Gore-Tex and waterproof shoes.” Sloane pointed to one of the framed diplomas. “Are you in the reserves?”
    This brought another laugh. “When I realized I wasn’t going to fly jets, I pretty much decided the military wasn’t my mug of beer. I did my four years and got out.”
    “So I take it you weren’t a JAG,” Sloane said, referring to a judge advocate general, a military lawyer.
    “I’m a JAG’s worst nightmare. I represent families trying to obtain their military benefits. As you might imagine, business has picked up with the war. The JAG lawyers think I’m a nuisance, but so do the prosecutors I try cases against, so at least I’m consistent. I like to shake things up—lets me know I’m doing my job.”
    Sloane laughed. He got a good feeling about Kannin. “Have you ever sued the military in a non-benefits case?”
    “Once,” Kannin said. He sat up. “Private Jasmine Evans was living in military housing on base. One Friday night there’s a knock on her door. Three off-duty soldiers stand on her porch with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, a case of beer, and a deck of cards. She knows them. They’re all friendly, so she lets them in. They start playing cards and drinking. Things are okay until one of the guys suggests they play strip poker. She declines, but the others think it’s a good idea and start removing their clothes. Private Evans starts tofeel uncomfortable and asks them to leave. They start calling her names: ‘tease,’ ‘bitch,’ ‘whore.’ She tells them to go fuck themselves. The soldiers beat and rape her.”
    “Horrible,” Sloane said.
    “I’m just getting started. She goes to the military hospital and shortly thereafter an officer pays her a visit. Ostensibly he’s there to take a report. Only she notices he’s more interested in her blood alcohol level than the rape. He tells her it would be best to drop the matter, that it will only make her an outcast among the troops.”
    “What did she do?” Sloane asked.
    “She told him to also go fuck himself. Then she filed a grievance. The military court-martialed the three soldiers, but none were convicted of rape. They all stuck to the same story: Private Evans was a willing participant; the bruises and cuts were because she liked it rough. When her administrative action finished, she found me. I did some research, came to the conclusion she was shit out of luck, and filed a claim in federal district court against the government, the army, and the three soldiers.”
    The latter two sentences didn’t make sense. “She was shit out of luck, but you filed the complaint?”
    Kannin shrugged. “Like I said, I like to shake the trees and see what falls out. I’m not afraid to lose, but I hate rolling over. I learned playing football that things can turn around quick. I was hoping that would happen in Private Evans’s case.”
    “Did it?” Sloane knew it was likely or they wouldn’t be discussing the case.
    Kannin nodded, still smiling. “During discovery I learned two of the soldiers had a propensity for violence against women, and one had earlier confided to the same investigating officer that, given the chance, he’d, quote, ‘like to fuck the shit out of Private Evans,’ end quote. But this officer is a wannabe, a weenie. You know the type? He’s trying to be one of the boys. So he saysnothing about it. Then they go and do it. Now his ass is on the line.”
    “Sounds like a pretty good case. Why would you be shit out of luck?”
    Kannin put up one finger. “You’re thinking like a civil lawyer. Remember this