“Hang up, Fee,” Jane said as she arrived at her office door and saw Fiola on the phone. Whoever Fee was talking to could wait. Jane waved her cell, trying to get her producer’s attention. “You’ll want to see this.”
“Hang on, Jane,” Fiola replied. She tucked her phone between her cheek and shoulder and clicked into her e-mail. “One second.”
Jane turned to Isabel, shrugging. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I know this is hard for you.“
“Not anymore,” Isabel told her. “It’s okay. Or, it will be.” She sighed, so deeply her shoulders rose, then fell.
Not in defeat, Jane knew. In change. In hope. As she’d watched Tarrant being led away, Jane thought she could almost see Isabel come back to life. And when—brave young woman—she’d then told Jake the whole story of her assault by Trey Welliver and the ensuing cover-up by Edward Tarrant, and then her calendared alibi for Trey’s whereabouts, Jane had watched the color return to Isabel’s cheeks, and the fire to her eyes.
Trey was still in custody. Before Jane and Isabel left the police department, Jake had whispered a promise to describe to Jane his next encounter—the delicious moment when he’d get to tell Welliver’s attorney his client was being cleared of murder, but charged with rape.
Edward Tarrant’s future was a legal snafu. Jake had called Jane a few moments earlier with that disturbing reality. Tarrant’s cynical recitation of the law had been correct: In Massachusetts, there was no legal requirement to report a rape unless you had witnessed it. And under federal law, a school administrator was not required to convey information about a reported rape to law enforcement officials.
“So Tarrant’s done nothing legally wrong?” Jane had asked him as she and Isabel arrived at Channel 2. She’d watched Isabel’s face fall as she heard Jane’s end of the phone conversation. “I can’t believe that. Like you said, obstruction? Or how about blackmail? He’d told Isabel’s mother that if she ever—”
“Yeah,” Jake had said. “Interesting that he knew those particular laws so well, right? We’ll hold the creep as long as we can. The students were obviously drinking alcohol in that poolside video at Avery Morgan’s house. If we can prove he was there, knew they were under twenty-one, even provided the stuff, we may be able to get him on that. The DA’s focused on the underage-drinking thing, big-time, and you know McCusker’s a pit bull. But the law is the law. And being a slime-bucket jerk is not illegal. We’ll have to see.”
They’d all have to see. For Isabel it would be a difficult road, pitted with obstacles, and questions, and scrutiny. Isabel had not chosen what happened to her in the past, but she could try to choose her future, and Jane predicted she could handle the journey. Jane and Fiola, and the SAFE women, would all be there to help.
“One step at a time,” Jane said out loud.
Fiola had finally hung up the phone.
“Huh?” Fiola said. “Anyway. Wait till you see what I have in my e-mail.”
“Great,” Jane said, “but I just sent you one, too. Open it.”
Fiola clicked her mouse, twice, and a ping signaled the end of the download. The video clip Jane had sent her was only about three minutes long.
“You bastard!” the video began.
“That’s Edward Tarrant.” Fiola paused the screen, turned to Jane. “What is this? Where? What’s the deal?”
“Oh!” Isabel clamped a hand on Jane’s arm. “You taped it on your phone! I thought of it, too, but too late.”
“Doing my job.” Jane leaned down, clicked Fiola’s mouse to play the rest.
Even though the video was shaky—Jane had tried to hide her cell phone—there was the homicide squad waiting room, and the fuming and obscene Tarrant, and Jake putting him in handcuffs, and his arrest for obstruction of justice.
“Wow,” Fiola said. “Remember how smarmy that guy was when we tried to interview him? But I’d never have thought—I mean, he’s the school’s Title Nine coordinator. He’s supposed to make sure all assault complaints are investigated, if the students want. Not to talk them out of it. Ugh. Disgusting.”
She clicked off Jane’s video, opened another file. “And, now, you look. At this.”
Jane stepped closer to Fee’s monitor, felt Isabel close behind her. Cell phone video, obviously, starting with a flare of light from a window behind whoever was the subject. Taken by an amateur, Jane couldn’t help thinking. The voices, though, were clear.
“We’ve come to chat with you.” A woman’s voice. “About what you’re doing to us.”
“That’s Manderley!” Isabel pointed to the screen. “And that’s Tarrant’s office. How’d you—”
“Watch,” Fiola said. She turned her screen so Jane could get a better view.
“Holy…” Jane’s voice trailed off as she listened, watched the women of SAFE confront Edward Tarrant, watched them defy him with their irrefutable knowledge of his manipulation of their lives.
“He threw the notebook out the sixteenth-floor window—can you believe it?” Fiola said. “I can’t help it. Sorry, Isabel, I know I shouldn’t laugh. But it’s just so freaking perfect.”
“Bad news, though,” Jane said. “We can’t use any of it on TV.”
“Why not?” Isabel looked like she was about to cry. “Why?”
“Yeah, well, here’s the deal. What we did in the hospital parking lot is fair game,” Jane explained. “That’s a public place. But this other stuff, shot in Tarrant’s private office? Without his knowledge? And at the police department? Under state law, we can’t put it on the air.”
“What if you don’t use the sound?” Isabel asked. “How about then?”
“Nope,” Jane said. She paused, regretting, imagining how great their documentary might have been. The good the videos could have done, revealing Tarrant for the manipulating creep he clearly was.
The three women stared at the last frame. Slam-dunk devastating. And all completely illegal.
“Jane?” Fiola said. “I know it’s unorthodox. But I bet the cops would love to see this.”
Jane blew out a breath. Why was there always this conflict? She could not give Jake this video. That was precisely the line she could not cross. This whole thing had started with her stating her principles, refusing to help the DA’s office. Then being forced to do just that. And regretting the hell out of it. She couldn’t now suddenly decide to hand over video to the cops.
“No way, Fee,” Jane said. “We simply can’t.”
“I can, though,” Isabel interjected. “Right? I’ll talk to Manderley and everyone. They’d do it in a flash.”
“Because even if what Tarrant did is not technically illegal—” Fiola said.
“It’s all about the cover-up,” Jane finished the sentence. “He threatened Isabel and the others. Told them they’d be faced with humiliation, and public embarrassment, and infinite disgrace. But when school officials hear about this? And the faculty? And parents? And other students? Seems like that’s exactly what’ll happen to Mr. Tarrant himself.”
“Vincerò,” Isabel said.