Since the physical evidence had been destroyed—and she was convinced that that was no accident—her only hope of getting a conviction was to have an eyewitness. Donna Dee hadn’t witnessed the actual attack, but she could substantiate Jade’s claim that she had been forced to remain in Neal’s car. That, combined with the doctor’s testimony, would provide any jury with reasonable doubt.
Jade slapped her abraded palms on the tabletop and bent over Donna Dee. “I know you’re trying to protect Hutch, but he’s a rapist. He raped me,” she said, enunciating each harsh word.
“Hutch wouldn’t do that.”
“He did!”
Donna Dee recoiled from Jade and glanced warily at Sheriff Jolly. “That’s all I know. Can I go now?”
“Donna Dee, don’t do this,” Jade pleaded as the sheriff moved her aside and assisted Donna Dee from her chair. She reached for the other girl’s arm, but Donna Dee shook off her clutching hands. “Hutch doesn’t deserve your protection,” Jade screamed. “He violated me. For God’s sake, Donna Dee, please tell them the truth.”
Donna Dee spun around, her eyes flashing. “The truth? Okay, I’ll tell them the truth.” She addressed the others. “A few weeks ago, Jade said that she was tired of waiting on marriage to have sex. She said she wished she could talk Gary Parker into doing it.” She turned a vicious gaze onto Jade. “I guess you got your chance last night, didn’t you? Three times! Once with Neal. Once with Lamar. And once with… with Hutch.”
Jade opened her mouth to speak but was too overwrought to utter a sound. Donna Dee gave her one last, hateful glare before opening the door and stamping out.
After she slammed the door behind her, the silence was deafening. Neal was the first to speak. “I told you she was hot for it.”
The sheriff shot him a dirty look, but Jade was too numb to notice. “Neal,” Fritz said, “you’re free to go. Ivan, wait for me outside. I want to talk to you before you leave.”
As he stood, Ivan laid a consoling hand on Velta’s shoulder. “Damn shame what our young ’uns put us through, isn’t it?” He walked out behind Neal.
“You still have the option to file formal charges, Jade.”
It took a moment for the sheriff’s words to register. She was still numb from the blow of Donna Dee’s betrayal. “What?”
“Do you want to formally charge the boys with rape?”
“Yes.”
Fritz looked at Velta quickly, then back at Jade. “You’d better think about it long and hard before you sign the papers.”
“I don’t have to think about it,” she said. “They raped me. They’re going to suffer for this as much as I have.” She was almost as hurt by Donna Dee’s vilification as by the rape itself. In her heart, she included Donna Dee when she said, “They’re going to pay for what they’ve done.”
He sighed wearily and moved toward the door. “All right then. Get on home. I’ll have the paperwork typed up and sent over later.”
Chapter Five
Sheriff Jolly wended his way through the squad room, which was busy now that the day shift had reported for work. Sensing the boss’s ill temper, no one blocked his path. Indeed, everybody gave him wide berth and kept his eyes averted as he moved to his private office, where Ivan Patchett was waiting.
Fritz went in and closed the door. Ivan was devouring a doughnut. He dunked it into his coffee and bit off a third of it in one bite. “Damn good doughnuts, Fritz.”
“Is that all that’s on your mind this morning, Ivan? Doughnuts?”
Fritz dropped into his chair. Propping his elbows on his desk, he ran all ten fingers through his thick, wavy hair. In junior high school some smart-aleck had taunted Fritz by calling out, “Hey, Red!” He’d barely lived to tell about it. Nobody had ever dared try out the nickname on Fritz again.
Ivan Patchett wasn’t intimidated either by Fritz’s brawn or by the position he held in the community. On nothing more than a whim, Ivan could have Fritz voted into or out of office. Both were well aware of that.
From a physical standpoint, Ivan was far less prepossessing. His gray hair was thinning, but not drastically. He was of average height and weight. He wasn’t particularly muscular, but he didn’t look soft. His wardrobe was neither conservative or flamboyant, merely comfortable.
Ivan’s mediocrity ended with his eyes. They reflected the arrogance of his knowing that he was indisputably the wealthiest, most influe
ntial individual in the tricounty area and that he could rule it like a principality if he pleased. His eyes glittered like ice, shot through with fire. That fire was a manifestation of the rapacious greed that governed him.
Ivan Patchett liked who and what he was and would do anything to protect the tyrannical control he wielded over his kingdom. He loved being feared more than he loved sex and gambling and even money. He had groomed his son to be exactly like him.
He sucked the sugar glaze off his ringless fingers. In Ivan’s opinion, only fairies wore jewelry. “I don’t mind telling you, Fritz, that I don’t like what I’m seeing.”
“What’s that?”