Quinn took a seat in a high-backed swivel chair across the table from Claude Tanner and his famous Vegas divorce attorney, Kyle Richardson. Quinn studied Tanner's narrow face for glimpses of Sierra but could find none. Sierra's father quietly regarded Quinn with narrow and wary eyes, letting his attorney do most of the talking. Kyle Richardson had thinning blond hair, a massive ring, and skin cooked medium well by the local tanning booths. When celebrities needed a Vegas divorce attorney, Richardson was generally their first call.
Quinn let Richardson ramble for a few minutes about the results of the DNA tests and his client's stellar chances for obtaining custody of Sierra. "He's not in this for the money or the publicity," Richardson declared. "He just wants what's best for Sierra."
Quinn wanted to throw up.
"If that's what he really wants," Quinn said, his voice even, "he should have stayed away."
The comment drew little reaction from Tanner, just a slight narrowing of the eyes and another layer of animosity added to the hardened stare. He let his lawyer respond for him.
"If your client could have avoided killing someone, Mr. Tanner would have been pleased to stay away."
Quinn swallowed a comeback; arguing would help no one. "I think we should work this out. One thing is certain: a court battle will not help Sierra."
Richardson shrugged. "I'm listening."
"If Annie is acquitted, the court will probably award her permanent custody. After all, she's Sierra's mother and took care of the girl from birth." He waited for a reaction, but Richardson and Tanner both acted noncommittal. At least they didn't disagree. "If she's convicted, I think I'll have a fair shot at getting custody myself."
Richardson started to object, but Quinn cut him off with a raised palm. "Let me finish."
Quinn turned to Tanner. Though he couldn't say it this bluntly, he knew the man wasn't interested in temporary custody for the sake of Sierra. Tanner was only interested in legal custody for the sake of voting rights. Quinn's offer would be a calculated bet that Tanner would trade the possibility of temporary custody now in order to increase his chances of getting permanent legal custody, including voting rights, later.
"As things stand right now, if I lose Annie's case, I'll fight you for custody," Quinn said. "Sierra is thirteen. The court will put a lot of weight behind her wishes. She wants to live with me. Plus, courts don't like fathers who take off when their kids are born and pop back into their lives at times of…" Quinn hesitated. "Shall we say… 'opportunity'? You might get some kind of visitation rights, but I'm prepared to fight for custody."
"Your analysis has so many holes I don't know where to start," Richardson interjected.
"I'm sure," Quinn said. "But here's the bottom line: I'm prepared to waive all that. I'm prepared to sign a deal today, right now, that says I won't contest custody if Annie loses. But there is one condition."
He had their attention. Even Richardson didn't interrupt.
"Sierra can't handle a temporary custody battle right now. She needs stability. She needs a familiar environment. She's too emotionally distraught to be forced into a reconciliation arrangement with a father she doesn't even know." Quinn leaned forward and felt his throat tightening. There was so much at stake. "If Annie and I lose the case, even if the jury enters a compromise verdict of guilty but mentally ill, you get sole custody of Sierra. No court battles. No contest of any sort. Just a reasonable visitation schedule for me. In exchange for that promise, you agree not to file for custody or visitation rights until Annie's court case is resolved. And if Annie wins, she gets permanent custody, and you get reasonable visitation.
"In the meantime, I'll put Sierra in a stable situation where she can get counseling and recover from some of the psychological blows she's been suffering. If you care about your daughter, you'll give her a chance to get back on her feet."
For a few long seconds, nobody spoke. Quinn's heart rate spiked but he tried to seem calm, as if he held all the cards.
"Give me a minute to talk to my client," Richardson said.
Ninety minutes later, Quinn signed the documents and promised to get Annie's signature later that night. He thanked the two men and hustled out of the building before they could change their minds.
The weight of the case now threatened to crush him. Quinn was a trial lawyer, accustomed to pressure and high-risk litigation decisions. But nothing in his past had prepared him for a case this personal, with stakes this high. If he won, he could save the lives of Annie and Sierra, the two women he cared about most.
And if he lost, he might destroy them both.
Only time would tell whether this was a brilliant litigation strategy or legal suicide.
71
The next day, Quinn received Dr. Mancini's written psychiatric evaluation of Catherine O'Rourke. They would, of course, only use it if Catherine could be convinced to plead insanity. The first part of the report was loaded with qualifiers-"This report assumes, without independent investigation, the integrity and credibility of the forensic evidence linking Ms. O'Rourke to the various crimes attributed to the Avenger of Blood." But the main part of the report was vintage Mancini, providing insights that had never occurred to Quinn-or anyone else for that matter.
Later that day, Melanie set up a conference call for Quinn, Rosemarie, and Marc Boland so that the expert could explain her findings.
"There are three factors that allow me to support a diagnosis of dissociative identity disorder," she said confidently. "First is the type of rape that Catherine experienced at William and Mary. It was a former boyfriend, compounding the emotional devastation of rape with the betrayal of trust. Also, it occurred while she was drugged, meaning that she endured this humiliation primarily at a subconscious level, wounding her psyche in a way that her conscious mind never totally comprehended.
"Second, as I detail in the report, the identity for the Avenger of Blood seems to come from an undergrad comparative religions course Catherine was taking at the time of the rape. Alter personalities often exhibit traits consistent with the environment that existed when the personality was first created, even if the alter personality does not manifest itself until years later. It's almost like a snapshot frozen in time. This is one of the ways we distinguish between patients who fake an alter personality and patients who are genuinely psychotic. Catherine, of course, would have no way of knowing this."
Rosemarie paused for a moment. "Are you guys still there?" she asked.
"Just taking notes, professor," Quinn said.
"Good stuff," Marc Boland echoed.
"The third thing," said Rosemarie, "is that I think I've discovered the triggering event. I spent a couple of days digesting reams of newspaper articles written by Catherine. She's an excellent reporter. Her writing is clear, fair, objective, sometimes even detached. But the tone of her writing on Annie's case was very different.
"From the beginning, she seemed more of a cheerleader than a reporter. Plus, it seemed to me that she almost obsessed over it. Her writing was much more emotional than the other articles. Quinn, I think this alter personality saw what Annie did and absorbed your strong defense of your sister, even before that case went to trial. In some ways, I think it gave this personality permission to seek its own revenge, mirroring what Annie did. Perhaps coincidentally, perhaps not, the blood avengers that Catherine learned about in college were the three female furies of Greek mythology, acting as bloodthirsty prosecutors for crimes against innocent victims. In a way, Catherine felt a sense of bonding with Annie-they're both female furies for the twenty-first century."
It made sense, Quinn thought, scribbling furiously. He was already thinking about ways to dramatically illustrate this at trial. The jury would eat it up-Greek mythology, handwriting on the wall, a tortured subconscious. Freud couldn't have written a better script.