Mandy Burks sat in one of the two client chairs. She wore a violet sundress that hung to her ankles and was cut right below her neckline. A conservative look that would hopefully make her present to the jury as a young underage girl. Mandy had olive skin, brown hair, and brown eyes. Holding her hands in her lap and fidgeting in her chair, she was the picture of vulnerability and youth. Helen had to fight the urge to smile. Perfect, she thought, turning her focus to the other woman in the room.
Lona Burks was in her midthirties. She wore a black dress fit for a funeral, which was one of three outfits that Helen had picked for her to wear to court. Helen had also advised Lona to trim her hair, which had once hung below her shoulders. But even with the conservative hairdo and clothing, Lona Burks was still a striking woman with her hourglass figure. She would probably be considered beautiful if not for the crowns that littered her mouth, the product of years of tooth decay from methamphetamine abuse. Lona had kicked drugs and alcohol five years ago, which was around the same time she had quit her job as an exotic dancer at the Sundowners Club. Now she worked as a housekeeper for several families in town and mowed lawns on the weekend to make ends meet. Unfortunately, her sobriety and newfound employment had done nothing to improve her prior reputation in the community as a drug addict and stripper. Since she’d brought her daughter to the sheriff’s office to report the rape last November, Lona had been worried and angry that Mandy wouldn’t get a fair shake because of her mother’s indiscretions. Now, Lona’s knees knocked against each other, and she gripped her arms tight across her chest. She peered at Helen with eyes full of fear and anxiety. “You’re sure it’s going to happen.”
Helen nodded. “We start in less than three hours.”
Lona’s eyes moistened. “Thank you, General. For not settling and for getting us this far. I . . .” She stopped talking as emotion finally got the better of her.
Helen glanced at Mandy, who continued to fidget and was now gazing at the floor.
“Lona, would you mind sitting out in the reception area while I go over Mandy’s testimony with her?”
For a moment, Lona looked as if she might protest. But then, nodding and biting down on her trembling lower lip, she stood and planted a kiss on her daughter’s cheek. “You listen good to General Lewis, OK?”
Mandy said nothing and continued to look at the carpet. After hugging Mandy’s shoulder, Lona mouthed another thank you to Helen and opened the door. Once it shut behind her, Helen reached forward and took Mandy’s hand.
“Look at me,” Helen said.
Mandy did as she was told, but her eyes appeared vacant.
“Are you all right?”
Mandy shrugged. “Just nervous.”
Helen gave her hand a squeeze and let go. “Me too.”
Mandy raised her eyebrows.
“I am,” Helen said. “But nerves can be good. They create energy and will keep us on our toes. We have to use that, you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Her eyes had drifted to the floor again, and her voice was so quiet that Helen barely heard her.
“Sit up straight with your eyes on me,” Helen snapped.
Startled, Mandy pressed her back against the chair and peered at Helen. “I’m sorry, I’m just—”
“You’re anxious. You’re scared. You’re doing something that a teenage girl should never ever have to do. I get it, Mandy. I understand, and I think a jury will too.” Helen paused. “But you have to be strong. Do you understand?”
Mandy nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” she squeaked.
“I didn’t hear you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Mandy barked, and her face had wrinkled into a defiant scowl.
Perfect, Helen thought again. Innocent. Vulnerable. But determined when her story is challenged. That was the dance they were about to do. The jury must sympathize with Mandy Burks, but they also, most importantly, must believe her.
“Good girl,” Helen said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs. “Now let’s run through it one last time.”
The rape itself had taken less than two minutes.
Mandy went to a party at a mansion off Highway 31, just a mile or so from the high school. She’d been invited by her boyfriend, Jason Lightfoot, a senior at Giles County High and a starting linebacker on the football team. Jason had heard about the event from a friend of his who was a freshman at Martin Methodist.
Mandy hadn’t even known who owned the house when she and Jason arrived at around two o’clock in the afternoon. The attendees were a mixture of college kids and grad students. There were kegs of free beer, and a couple of guys were passing around plates of green Jell-O laced with vodka.
Mandy wasn’t sure how many Jell-O shots she’d done, but after a few, she was able to stomach the taste of beer. In addition to drinking, the afternoon was spent riding four-wheelers through a path in the wooded area behind the house, Jet Skiing in the man-made drainage lake, and finally swimming in the Olympic-size pool. By sunset, Mandy was drunk and asking Jason to take her home. But her boyfriend, who was also hammered, wanted to take one final ride on an ATV before dark. They got in a fight, and Jason went by himself on the trek while Mandy went inside the house to pee.
The downstairs bathroom was occupied, so she stumbled upstairs until she found one that wasn’t. After doing her business, she opened the door and bumped into a man who was standing in the hallway. He was holding a blue drink in his hand, and the collision caused him to spill it all over Mandy’s white cover-up. Mandy laughed and started to try to find the stairs, but the man stopped her and asked if she wanted to clean up. He had some things of his girlfriend’s that she could borrow to wear.
Despite her drunkenness, Mandy could tell that the man was much older than she was. Nevertheless, he was cute, and Mandy, still mad at Jason for abandoning her, said, “OK.”
He led her into a huge bedroom and told her that she could use the shower. By that point, Mandy felt sick. Her memory was hazy on some of the story, but she knew she had thrown up before getting in the shower. Once she turned the water on, she heard the glass door open and close. The only thing keeping her from passing out at this point was the water that pelted her forehead. Then she felt his soapy hands on her body. Touching her. She said no, but he didn’t stop. He slid his finger inside her, and she tried to fight off his hand, but she kept losing her balance on the slippery tile floor. She elbowed him in the stomach and managed to climb out of the shower, but he caught her by the vanity. He straddled himself against her so that she couldn’t move and pressed against her back until she was bent over the sink. She screamed “NO!” but his hand clasped over her mouth and muffled the sound.
And then . . .
“And then what, Mandy? What happened next?” In the small confines of her office, Helen could hear Mandy’s choppy breathing pattern.
Mandy Burks bit her lower lip and peered straight ahead, her eyes and voice fierce with determination. “He raped me.”
“How long did it last?”
Her face remained stoic. “A minute. Maybe two.”
“Is the person who raped you in the courtroom today?”
Mandy nodded and pointed to her left, which would be the direction of the defense table from the witness stand once they were in the courtroom. “Yes. He’s sitting right there. Michael Zannick.”