Point of Departure Page 10

  “First of all, whatever is said has to be taken by the woman as inappropriate or in some way illegal or disrespectful. Did you take my comment as any of those?”

  Callie flushed and looked away from his dancing eyes. “No, of course not.”

  “Well, there, you see? Now, maybe if I said something like, ‘Not only do you look good without makeup, you’d look good in nothing at all,’ that would be sexual harassment. There aren’t many women who would find that complimentary.”

  “Just the opposite. I find it offensive and suggestive.”

  “Bingo. You’re catching on fast, Callie.” He smiled fully.

  “By taking my deposition, are you going to try to hang Remington for all that he’s done to me?”

  Ty shook his head. “No, I can’t do that, because you never officially reported what he’s done to you over at Intelligence. But what I can do is paint a picture for the board to show that Remington has a past history of this kind of behavior toward you. It can’t be entered as evidence, but can be considered surrounding or background information.”

  Callie’s esteem of Ty rose another notch. Even if he wasn’t a lawyer, he was thinking like one, and that made her feel a tiny bit better about her chances. “What else do you have planned?”

  “I need from you the name or names of anyone who was at the O Club that night who might have seen you.”

  “Remington came over to the dining room where I was eating and started hitting on me, then,” she recalled grimly. Snapping her fingers, she sat up. “I know! Lieutenant Andy Clark was there. He was only two tables away and I know he heard the whole embarrassing conversation.” Callie touched her cheeks, which had gone hot at the memory. “I felt like crawling under the table. I felt like dying.”

  Ty felt her anguish and humiliation. Glumly, he wrote down the name and tried to hold on to his anger toward Remington. “Great, we’ve got a witness.”

  She became sober. “You really think so, Ty? That guy is a fighter pilot, too. He’s also a ring-knocker. What makes you think he’s going to break the silence and defend me when he’s sworn to protect the brotherhood?”

  With a shrug, Ty murmured, “Look at me. I’m an academy graduate, and I’m on your side. Who’s to say a second pilot won’t do the same thing?”

  Callie had grave doubts, but somehow Ty’s ebullience in the face of such seemingly insurmountable odds gave her hope—and something more. As she sat in the kitchen, watching him write furiously in precise, painfully neat script on those forms, she was struck by him as a person. Not as a fighter pilot, not as an officer in the navy, but as a man.

  Perhaps she was so gun-shy, so injured by harsh experiences with navy pilots that they had clouded her view of Ty Ballard completely. He was warm and personable and seemed to be the soul of sincerity, she saw now. The look of anger in his eyes as she told him what Remington had done couldn’t be faked. Nor could the quavering tone of fury in his deep voice. Touching her brow, Callie took a deep, shaky breath.

  Her world had been turned upside down. And her job was on the line. She would have felt much less secure, much more panicky if Ty Ballard weren’t sitting across from her. It was him, she realized. Ty had a rock-solid sense about him, and it transferred to her. All hell was breaking loose around her, but Ty had become the eye of the hurricane. Now, if she could only give him her trust, that would be a fair exchange. If only…

  Chapter Seven

  “How’s it going, sis?” Maggie—dressed in a pink tank top, white shorts and her favorite, very worn tennis shoes—stepped into the foyer of Callie’s apartment and gave her a measuring look.

  “Okay, I guess. Come on in. How was work today?”

  Maggie grinned and walked slowly with Callie to the living room. “Same as always—exciting.”

  “I don’t know which you love more, Wes or that F-14 you fly.”

  “They’re both lovers, only in a different sort of way,” Maggie answered with a laugh. “Wes is number one, however, in my life.”

  “Whew, that was close!” And Callie joined Maggie’s lilting laughter.

  Flopping down on the overstuffed lavender couch, Maggie tossed her purse aside and pushed off her tennis shoes. She brought her long legs up and folded them beneath her. “How did it go with Commander Ballard this morning?”

  Callie lowered herself into a pale blue chair and lay her crutches on the carpeted floor next to her. “This morning? We didn’t get done with the report until late this afternoon.”

  “Really?”

  “He’s thorough, Maggie. And a lot smarter than I gave him credit for.”

  “Both are in your favor.” Maggie smiled a little as she assessed Callie. “Are you still so distrustful of his intentions in taking on your case?”

  “No…not as much,” she conceded. “He’s sincere. Still, he doesn’t realize what it’s like to be a woman in the navy.”

  “And the harassment of different sorts we put up with to do a job we love,” Maggie added grimly.

  Callie sighed. “I think he’s starting to get the larger picture, though. Since the article came out in the newspaper yesterday, I’ve gotten over twenty calls from other navy women, both enlisted and officer, who had been harassed.”

  Maggie’s brows shot up. “Are you serious?”

  “Never more. What’s heartbreaking is that some of the women have had a lot worse done to them than what happened to me.”

  Sitting up, her feet on the floor now, Maggie clasped her long, thin hands between her thighs. “Did you tell Ballard about that?”

  “Yes. He wanted their names so he could talk to them, but I told him no. These women want to stay anonymous because they’re afraid of being punished by their male superiors, or of losing their job.”

  “You could lose yours,” Maggie warned.

  “I know, and I’m scared to death. I mean, what else am I trained for? Who wants an intel officer who can read satellite and photo recon maps?”

  “There’s no great call for it in the civilian world,” Maggie agreed glumly. “Now that Ballard knows the whole story, does he think you’ve got a chance of being cleared by the board?”

  Callie told her sister everything, and by the time she was done, Maggie was agitated.

  “Remington’s a slick bastard,” she muttered defiantly. “I never liked him—he’s such an arrogant jerk. He thinks he’s irresistible to any woman.”

  Shivering, Callie said, “When he touched me that first time, I felt nauseated. His touch is so slimy. Every time he looks at me, I feel as if he’s undressing me.”

  “I just wish he’d tried that on me.”

  Callie smiled a little. “You’d deck him. Maybe I should have.”

  “Then he’d have you up on assault charges. No, but you could have told him to get his slimy arm off you and never touch you again.”

  “He’s the type that would have taken my rebuff as a challenge, Maggie. Then he’d have dogged my heels more than he has already.”

  “I’m looking forward to being here for the hearing,” Maggie said, changing the subject. “I called Ballard this morning before he came over here, and told him that if he needed me as a witness, I’d be more than happy to go before the board in your behalf.”

  Touched, Callie said, “You could be hurting your career by doing that, Maggie.”

  With a snort, her sister rose to her feet and put on her tennis shoes. “It’s time women learned to stand together and fight. If we don’t, these guys will keep singling us out, destroying us, and then going on to the next woman victim. No, we’ve got to start banding together and defending one another in any way possible.”

  “I think it’s already beginning to happen,” Callie said. “The women who called me all asked if there was anything they could do to help me—short of testifying. I was really touched, Maggie, by their outpouring. Several of them are coming over—a sort of group meeting. They wanted to meet and talk with other women who’ve had similar experiences. If nothing else, I thi
nk it will be good group therapy for us.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Maggie said. “Your standing up and saying, ‘I’m mad as hell and I’m not taking it anymore,’ may give them the courage to come forward, too.” She picked up her purse and walked over to Callie. “I just wish Remington had tried this on me and not you.”

  Callie reached out and squeezed Maggie’s offered hand. “Your career means just as much to you as mine does to me.”

  “I can always get a job in the civilian world pushing passenger planes around in the sky,” Maggie chuckled. Becoming serious, she squeezed Callie’s hand in turn. “I’ll drop over and see you tomorrow night before I go home.”

  “Isn’t Wes due back tomorrow?” Callie knew that as a pilot for the worldwide conglomerate of United Parcel Service, he was frequently gone a week at a time, hauling cargo from one country to another.

  “Yes, but he’ll understand. See you later, sis.”

  Ty couldn’t contain his need to see Callie the next afternoon. He’d worked all morning at his office, gathering evidence, making phone calls and piecing together vital information for her case. Now he stood quietly, waiting for Callie to answer her door. Inwardly, he wasn’t still at all. Last night he’d dreamed about her—soft, lush, torrid dreams. Since the divorce, he’d shied away from women. Callie was reawakening him to his desires. But the feelings went beyond sexual. There was some intangible, magical gift that she gave him simply by being herself. And more than anything, Ty wanted permission to continue to explore this new and exciting experience—something he’d never encountered with any woman before Callie had unexpectedly fallen into his life.

  Right now, he wasn’t sure how she felt toward him—or if there was a shred of hope that she might be interested in him as he was in her. They were caught in a cross fire, brought together reluctantly. And he knew Callie didn’t trust him to bring her safely through the storm that threatened her and her career. But Ty wasn’t going to let her down. The divorce had given him new awareness and insights—about women in general, and about himself as a human being. Armed with that hard-earned knowledge, Ty was determined to make this work between them.

  Laughing at himself—at his longings that only days ago he’d thought had died, never to return—he waited impatiently for the door to open. When it did, he couldn’t help but smile down at Callie. Today she was dressed in a bright, flowery print blouse and fuschia cotton slacks. And again she was barefoot.

  “Are you sure you’re a naval officer?” he teased as she smiled at him in greeting. It was the first real smile Callie had given him, and he felt the warmth of it flow through him like sunlight across a frozen expanse. Callie was like the spring sun, slowly dissolving many of the old wounds he’d garnered over the years of his marriage.

  Flushing, Callie gestured for him to come in. “Sure. Why?” How handsome he looked in his uniform, she thought. There was a stalwartness to him that she had never noticed in any other man. Perhaps it was the way he squared his shoulders and carried himself so proudly. Or was it the dancing light in his eyes—or the heat that promptly embraced her as he smiled down at her?

  “I can’t get over the fact that you’re a barefoot kind of woman. I’d never have thought it. You really belong in nature, not the navy,” he said, smiling back at her as he headed for the kitchen.

  Callie shut the door and followed Ty down the hall. Unaccountably, her spirits lifted in his presence. His smile was very male, yet there was a gentleness to it, too. It was a rakish smile, but one that told her that he was genuinely happy to be sharing time with her.

  Ty set his garrison cap aside and opened the briefcase. As Callie entered the kitchen, he glanced at her. Her cheeks were flaming red, and he was touched by the knowledge that she wore her feelings so close to the surface. Then, switching to the thought of what Remington had done to her, he truly began to grasp the emotional trauma it had caused Callie. That discovery only made him more angry toward the pilot, but he clamped down on the feeling.

  “How is the investigation going?” Callie asked as she poured two glasses of iced tea and set them on the table.

  “Interesting,” Ty said. He put the briefcase aside and waited for her to sit down.

  Once seated, Callie squeezed a fresh slice of lemon into her tea. “Oh? In what way?”

  “You remember Lieutenant Clark? The officer who was sitting two tables away from you?”

  “Yes?” Callie added several spoonfuls of sugar to her tea and stirred it.

  Running his fingers through his hair, Ty muttered, “I talked to him late this morning.”

  Her hopes rose. “And?”

  “He stonewalled me.”

  “What?” Her heart plummeted. She saw the anger in Ty’s eyes and in the grim set of his mouth.

  “It was just as you said—ring-knockers stick together.”

  Laying the spoon on the mat beside her tea, Callie nodded and felt a sadness replace her hope. “I knew it.”

  “Well, I didn’t.”

  She heard the frustration in Ty’s voice and looked over at him. “Now you’re getting just a little taste of what will happen. They won’t break ranks against the brotherhood, Ty. Not for me. I’m a woman, remember?”

  “You’re an Annapolis graduate just like them. What about the stuff they pound into us about truth, integrity and honesty—never lying or cheating?”

  “Remember? Men have one set of laws, women are treated under a different set?”

  Shuffling a bunch of papers together, his eyebrows dipping into a scowl, Ty growled, “I saw it today. Firsthand. I guess I never realized it before. Clark knows a lot, but he’s not talking. I went to the O Club and sat at the table where you had your meal that night. I put a tape recorder on Clark’s table. Then I talked in a low voice, a medium voice and a loud voice. When I played the tape back, it recorded very clearly at all three tonal levels, so I know Clark not only saw Remington harass you, he heard everything, too.”

  Admiration for Ty’s cleverness made her smile a little. “Maybe you missed your calling.”

  “How’s that?”

  “You’re a legal eagle at heart.”

  “I’m good at investigating,” he said bluntly, “but I don’t think I’d make a very good attorney.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I get too emotionally involved. I know you’re innocent. You’re the victim. I’m angry because we have a witness who could help us, and he’s not going to squeal against one of his brothers—even if his brothers are wrong. Frustration is something I’m living with right now, and I’m not a happy camper about how this case is developing.”

  Callie felt his disgust. “Now you know what we women live with every day of our lives.”

  “If I were a woman, I’d be changing things in a hurry. I wouldn’t take this. Not for a moment.”

  “If you had been beaten down by a culture that devalues its women the way this one does, you might not have much fight left in you,” Callie said softly. She saw Ty give her a confused look. “From the time a woman is born, she’s told both verbally and nonverbally that she’s not worthy of the same attention, the same importance, the same schooling that a man can get in this country. There are all kinds of studies to prove what I’m saying, Ty. Further, women are taught never to get angry, never to stand up for their rights, and that the only ones who really have rights are men. That’s been proven again and again in the courts. Mothers can’t get money from divorced husbands to feed their children—that’s just one of many examples.”

  “I can’t say you’re wrong about that,” he admitted heavily. “But you come out of a family that prided itself on your individuality. Look at Maggie—she’s making the military sit up and realize women are capable combat pilots. And I’ve heard her say that your other two sisters are doing similar things.” He gave her a searching look. “Except you. What happened, Callie?”

  Uneasily, Callie sipped the tea. “I used to be more like Maggie,” she agreed quietly. “But thi
ngs changed. I changed.”

  Ty heard the underlying tenor of pain in her voice again. As much as he wanted to dig into that with Callie, he saw the warning in her eyes. Respecting the nonverbal request, he shrugged. “I was planning to call Maggie in before the board on your behalf, and I found out just before I left the office, that they’re cutting TAD orders for her to spend the next two weeks doing night landings on a carrier off San Diego.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I said.”

  Callie sat back, feeling utterly defeated. “Someone is pulling strings, Ty. They don’t want me to have any witnesses.”

  “It’s beginning to look that way,” he said with disgust. He glanced over at the phone. “Any more calls of support today?”

  She smiled a little. “Yes, I’m up to twenty-five calls.”

  With a shake of his head, he muttered, “I never realized how pervasive sexual harassment has become.”

  “The navy’s zero-tolerance policy is a sham,” Callie said quietly. “They feed that concept to the public, to the government, but sexual harassment is alive and well in our ranks.”

  “Well, there won’t be a change unless our navy flag officers start giving zero tolerance some teeth. This case could do that.”

  “Good luck,” she murmured.

  “Have you gotten any calls from newspapers or television stations?”

  “Several, but I’ve declined all interviews.”

  “Good. We don’t need half truths or portions of our defense broadcast right now.”

  Rubbing her arms, she said, “I worry a reporter will misquote me—the way they did when Maggie and I did that article for the San Diego newspaper. Look what kind of stink that caused. No, don’t worry, I’m not talking to anyone. Except you.”

  Ty’s mouth lifted in a brief smile. “Do you feel a little better about me representing you?”

  Callie wanted to tell Ty that he was much more important to her than just that trickle of trust that ebbed and flowed between them. Despite the bad news he’d brought, she still felt safe and protected in his presence. “I do….”