Copyright © 2022 by Robin James Books
All Rights Reserved
Chapter One
Neveah Ward stared at me from a pair of stunning, amber eyes that held far more wisdom than her twenty-one years should.
She was beautiful. Tall with a reedy frame that belonged on a fashion week runway. Lustrous dark curls that today she tied back in a ponytail thicker than my right arm.
“I’ve told this story a hundred times,” she said, flicking her gaze out the window. It was raining today. Thick, crooked streaks glistened down the pane.
“You have,” I said.
“Are you trying to trip me up?” she asked. “See if I’ll change it?”
I set my coffee cup down on the table between us. I didn’t usually drink it this late in the afternoon, but when Neveah offered it, I didn’t want to say no. She brewed it strong, with a robust flavor. Like her. It was the thing I counted on. The only thing that might give her what we both wanted.
“In a word?” I said. “Yes.”
“Well, I won’t,” she said. “I haven’t. I’ll tell you a hundred more times. A thousand. I know what that man did to me. They can call me a liar. A slut. Worse. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”
“They might do worse than call you names, Neveah,” I said. “You have to be prepared for that. Simon Pettis is known for brutal cross-examinations. He has been around forever. He was trying cases before you were born. Before I was born.”
“You afraid?” she asked me, those amber eyes fixing on me once more.
I folded my hands on the table. “No. I’m not afraid. Not for me.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Then you don’t really know these people.”
I looked around the room. Neveah rented a house in College Village. They were hard to come by. Three blocks from campus, students could avoid the hefty price tag of a parking pass and the hunt for an elusive spot in the student lot. I knew the rent reflected that perk.
The jury would wonder how Neveah afforded this place. They might assume. She was right about the picture the defense would paint of her. I could protect her from some, but not all.
“I need you to tell me again,” I said. “From the beginning. I need to know the details as well as you do.”
“I didn’t know who he was,” she said. “That’s the first thing people don’t want to believe. But I’m not from here, Mara. I grew up with my mom in Detroit. I’d never heard the man’s name before.”
“All right,” I said.
“Mr. Sizemore came to guest lecture in my political science course on municipal government. Professor Perry’s class.”
“Were you attracted to him?” I asked. I had a notepad in front of me. I kept my pen poised above it as Neveah told me her story again.
“I thought he was decent-looking,” she said. “I’ve always gone for older guys. My shrink thinks I’ve got daddy issues. I think that’s crap. Anyway, he gave a talk. To be honest, I zoned out for most of it. The guy seemed nervous in front of the class. More than anything, that’s what drew me to him. Disarmed me, if you want to know the truth. There were a lot of students in the class fawning over him. Kissing his butt. I did not get that at all. I’m telling you. I was not on the make. I wasn’t stalking this guy.”
“Then what happened?” I asked.
“Class was over. I had plans to meet my friend Renee. Mr. Sizemore was standing up at the front of the room answering questions from other people. I was just minding my own business, gathering my things. I got a text from Renee. She said she had a change of plans. The bar we were planning to go to had a power outage so she wanted to meet at Lilly’s on the other side of town. I was getting kind of tired so I decided to just head home. I put my phone in my bag and that’s when I looked up. He was standing there, smiling at me.”
“Was anyone else around?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “The other students cleared out by then. It was just me and Mr. Sizemore.”
“Who spoke first?”
“He did,” she said. I checked my notes against the statement Neveah had given to the police. So far, her story was consistent.
“He asked me how he did,” she continued. “That’s the first thing that got me. He wasn’t cocky. Most of these people who come into these classes, they’re full of themselves. They don’t even really plan what they’re going to say. They just think their war stories or personalities are going to be enough for all of us. He wasn’t like that. He had notes he read from. He was thoughtful in the way he answered questions. There was something in his eyes. Like a need. I could tell he was honestly worried if he’d done a good job for us. I found it interesting. Charming even.”
“That’s when he asked you out?” I asked. It was a test. To see if Neveah would take the bait and alter the story.
“No.” She shook her head. “Not then. You know, he never really did ask me out. Not in those words.”
Again, she passed the test.
“It was a six o’clock class,” she said. “So it was close to nine when the lecture was over. The custodians like to close the building by nine thirty. We’d been talking for almost a half hour. He offered to walk me to my car. I told him mine was on the fritz and how close I lived and that I was just going to walk. But it was so late by then. Everyone else had left. There are usually other people walking that same route so I’m not alone. He offered to drive me home. I said yes. I shouldn’t have. But I did.”
“So you kept talking? About what?”
“I was curious about the campaign process. That’s always been where I wanted to land. I volunteered for the governor’s campaign when I was eighteen. It was just passing out flyers and yard signs but that’s what got me thinking about poli sci in high school. Anyway, I told Mr. Sizemore all of that. He listened. That’s the other thing I thought was different about him. He wasn’t talking about himself. He was asking me what I thought about things.”
“And this was all on the way to his car?” I asked.
“Yes. I mean it was April so it was kind of warm out. We stood there for a while, just talking. You know. In the parking lot.”
“Neveah, what happened next?” I asked. On the stand, I would take her through it, just like this.
“He said he liked talking to me. He said he knew what this was going to sound like, but that he was looking for a new intern. He said that was one of his ulterior motives in agreeing to guest lecture for Professor Perry. He wanted me to apply for it.”
“Was that something that interested you?”
“No,” she said. “I told him I couldn’t afford an unpaid internship. Between classes and working at the bar. Anyway, he said it wasn’t like that. This was a paid gig. Well, that interested me. I couldn't believe it.”
“Then what happened?” I asked.
Neveah’s expression darkened just as it always did when she got to this point in her story.
“I was such an idiot. I should have known what was going to come next. It’s just he was who he was. And it wasn’t like we were in some seedy bar and he was a random guy.”
“But you said you didn’t realize who he was before that night,” I challenged her, knowing full well Simon Pettis, the legendary defense attorney, would do the same.
“I said I didn’t know who he was when he showed up to give his lecture,” she said. “Of course I googled him while he was speaking. I’d listened to him for almost three hours by then. I’m saying it wasn’t like I was sitting at a bar listening to some line by a sleazeball.”
“I see,” I said.
“He said he had more questions for me. He said he had meetings all the next day and was leaving for a three-day conference after that. He said he knew it was last minute, but would I mind doing an informal interview with him that night?”
“He asked you out,” I said.
“No! He was just going to take me home. We were going to talk in the car.”
“But your apartment at the time was only a few blocks from campus.”
“I wasn’t thinking about geography,” she said. “I was thinking about maybe I’d get a break. I wanted to hear more about the internship.”
“Okay,” I said. “Then what happened?”
“Then,” she said, her bottom lip quivering. “Then I got in his car.”
“And he drove you home.”
She shook her head. “No. Like you said. It was just a few blocks. That would have taken, what, a few minutes? We were talking. He was asking me about my family. My background. What got me interested in politics. Then he started telling me what his vision and ambitions were and all the roadblocks to getting there. We kept circling the block. I didn’t mind. He was listening to me. Ms. Brent, people don’t always listen to me. Not like that.”
“I see.”
“You don’t,” she said. “Nobody does. They think I’m lying because nobody can be that dumb.”
“I don’t think that at all, Neveah. If I did, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Well, somehow, we ended up in the parking lot of McCauley Park. One of the street lamps was out. I remember thinking, why did he park right under that one? I was going to ask him. But he was telling me what he wanted from me. As an intern. His expectations. He said it’s all hands on deck in his office as he was gearing up to run again. That I wouldn’t just be making copies or answering phones. That he’d want me in meetings. He would expect me to become familiar with his position on things. God. It all sounded so good. I was so excited.”
“Neveah, what happened next?” I asked.
Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Then, he put his arms around me and tried to kiss me.”
“What did you do?”
“I pushed back. I told him no. I told him I wasn’t okay with that.”
“Then what happened?”
“He laughed,” he said. “In a heartbeat, he became someone else. Like a mask he’d been wearing just slipped. He reached under my seat and hit the lever that reclined it. He was on top of me. He’s a big guy, Ms. Brent. And I just … I couldn't believe it was happening. I shut down for a second. That’s the thing I go over and over in my head. I froze. If I hadn’t. Maybe if I’d have slapped him. Would he have snapped out of it? Would it have made a difference?”
I stayed silent, needing Neveah to get her story out in her words. But the answer was no. It very likely would have made no difference at all.
“He pinned me down,” she said. “With his whole body on top of me. I pulled his hair. Or tried to. He covered my mouth with his hand. I couldn’t breathe. There was no room to fight. He … he pulled my shirt up. Pinched my breasts. Hard. My eyes watered. I had no room to kick. To push him off. He had me wedged against the car door. He … he bit me. On my breasts.”
She reached for her own cup of coffee. Though her voice shook, her hands were steady as she took a sip.
“What did he do to you then, Neveah?” I asked.
“He raped me,” she said, her voice gone cold. “I’d been wearing a skirt. That’s another thing. Maybe if I hadn’t. If I’d worn jeans or something. But you don’t wear jeans to class. At least, I don’t. It made it easier for him to do what he did.”
“Neveah,” I said. “It’s not your fault.”
“I know,” she said. “I didn’t ask for it. I know that. I’m just saying there were things that made it easier for him. If I’d made different choices, it would have made it a little harder. Made it take an extra second or two. Maybe enough time for me to do something.”
“He outweighed you by seventy pounds,” I said. “He was stronger, Neveah. And he hurt you.”
“Yeah,” she said. “He hurt me.”
“He raped you,” I said.
She nodded. “Then it was over. It was just … over. I was still so numb. I just lay there on that seat. He drove out of the parking lot and went around the block. He ordered me to get out of his car. Like he was done with me. So now I was just a piece of trash. Garbage you’d throw out your car window.”
“What did you do?”
“I was shaking so badly, I couldn’t work the door handle. I started to cry. That set him off. He yelled. Screamed at me. Get out. Get the hell out! I was on autopilot. I actually asked him what I was supposed to do next.”
“Then what?”
“When I couldn’t get the door open, he reached for me. My God. I turned to stone. For a second, I thought he would start again. But he reached over me, opened the car door and pushed me out.”
“He pushed you out?”
She nodded. “I fell to the pavement on my hands and knees. My clothes were torn. I was bleeding. That’s when … it’s like he finally realized I was actually hurt. He rolled down the window and asked me if I could walk. I managed to get to my feet. His eyes were kind of wide. I think … I think maybe he was a little shocked too. He looked scared. He asked me if I could make it home. I nodded. The thought of him, what, offering to give me a ride? I just wanted him to go away. He smiled then. It was ghoulish. He said something like, he knew the name of a good mechanic, or that he could call me a mechanic. As if my car was what I was worried about. Like I needed him to do me a favor.”
“I’m so sorry, Neveah,” I said.
“After that, he rolled up his window and drove off. He left me there. I tried to start walking but it was like my legs wouldn’t work. Like I was stuck in cement. I couldn’t get my heart to stop pounding. He circled back. God, I was terrified. He opened the window and threw my bag out on the sidewalk next to me. His tires squealed as he drove away.”
She’d stopped crying. Her eyes went cold. She closed them against the memory. When she opened them, they lit with new strength.
“I’m ready, Mara,” she said. “I know what his lawyer will do. I know what they’ll try to say about me. And I know you can’t promise me we’ll win. But you have to let me up there so I can testify. So I can look that bastard in the eyes and call him out for what he is. For what he did.”
I slid my notepad into my briefcase. “That, I can promise,” I said. “You’ll have your chance to confront him. I’ll do everything I can to make sure he pays, Neveah. I can promise that much.”
“I gave up everything I thought I wanted because of him,” she said, brushing a tear away. “I dropped out of school. I was lost. I’ve had to restart my entire life.”
“You’ve been strong,” I said. “So strong.”
“I’m thinking about starting class again this fall. Did I tell you that?”
“No! That’s great.”
Copyright © 2022 by Robin James Books
All Rights Reserved
Chapter One
“I’m meeting with an academic advisor.”
In the months after the rape, Neveah had indeed restarted her life. She’d taken a job as a teacher’s aide at a private school on the other side of town. It was still Waynetown, but felt worlds away from the life she’d had before.
For the first time since we sat down, Neveah Ward smiled. She let me hug her as we said our goodbyes. I wanted to tell her the hard part was over. We both knew it wasn’t. In six weeks, I would put the former mayor of Waynetown on trial for rape.
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