Motion to Dismiss by Jonnie Jacobs

to come along and bring a friend."
    "What is your girlfriend's name?"
    "Judith Powers."
    "Was it Judith who introduced you to Mr. Barrett?"
    Deirdre gave me a wide-eyed look. "It wasn't the kind of party where people got introduced ."
    "I see." One of those parties. It might help us. "Who struck up the conversation first," I asked, "you or Mr. Barrett?"
    The eyes dropped. "I don't remember."
    Nor did she remember what they'd talked about, except that it wasn't "anything heavy." She spoke in a quiet, unwavering voice, answering my questions like a good student trying hard to please. Grady had bought her a couple of drinks -- well, more than a couple, she conceded, and they'd danced some. Yes, they'd danced close, but it was that kind of music. And then they'd more or less drifted away from the rest of the party, finishing their last drinks "and stuff" in a booth at the back of the restaurant.
    "What do you mean by 'stuff,' Ms. Nichols?"
    She shrugged. "Conversation. Sometimes we just listened to the music."
    "Did you ask him if he was married?" I pushed the image of Nina, pregnant and ridden with cancer, from my mind.
    "He never mentioned it."
    "What about the ring on his left hand?"
    Her lips puckered like a pink rosebud. "I never thought to check."
    Bullshit. But she carried it off convincingly.
    "Did Mr. Barrett touch you at all while you were sitting there in the booth?" I asked.
    I could feel Grady stir at the table behind me.
    "Some."
    "And did you ask him to stop?"
    "It wasn't like that. It was just ... touching."
    I walked back to the defense table. She couldn't look in my direction without focusing on Grady as well. "Did Mr. Barrett offer you a ride home," I asked, "or did you ask for one?"
    "I ... I may have said something about not having a car there. But he offered."
    "When you left the party, did he take you straight home?"
    "Yes."
    "And you invited him in?"
    "I'm not saying I wasn't attracted to him," Deirdre said, sounding, for the first time, a bit testy. "He's an attractive man, and he seemed like a nice guy."
    "Did you want him to kiss you?"
    She looked at Grady and then quickly away. "I guess. Like I said, he seemed nice."
    "So you didn't resist?"
    "Not at first."
    "You were having a good time?"
    Deirdre leaned forward. Her eyes flashed with exasperation. "Look, I never said he jumped out of the bushes and raped me at knife point. Yes, we were having a good time. But then he crossed the line. I want him held accountable."
    Grady snorted in disgust. I put a hand on his shoulder to quiet him. "Nonresponsive," I said to Judge Riley. "Move to strike."
    Riley directed the court reporter to disregard the comment, then instructed the witness that she was to answer the question and nothing more. But I could tell from his tone that Deirdre Nichols had found a soft spot in the judicial armor.
    "When you say, 'He crossed the line,' I take it you mean he forced you to have sex against your will?"
    She lifted her chin. "Yes."
    "After you made it patently clear that it was something you didn't want."
    "Yes."
    I led her, step by step, over the testimony she'd given on direct, eliciting from her an account of fairly steamy flirtation on her part. But she held firm on the issue of consent. She'd told Grady no and he had ignored her.
    "What made you change your mind?" I asked.
    Madelaine was on her feet again. "Objection. Assumes that witness initially intended to give consent."
    "Sustained."
    I rephrased the question. "Ms. Nichols, what did you expect would happen after this episode of kissing you've told us about?"
    Deirdre shook her head, and a lock of red hair sprang from the ribbon at her neck. "We were clearly attracted to each other, but I thought ... I thought it might be better to get to know one another first."
    I checked my notes. "When Mr. Barrett persisted with his affections, despite the fact that you'd asked him to stop, is that when he grabbed you by the arm?"
    "I think so. It's all kind of a blur."
    Her