Murder, Lies, Statutory Rape, and Madison Rose
By: Rae D. Magdon
Author's Note: I began writing this story about five years ago and put it aside. I took it out, gave it a "Law and Order feel," and a total character and plot makeover. I am a HUGE Law and Order: SVU fan, so if you know where I can get my hands on some sexy Alex Cabot/Olivia Benson fanfiction, PLEASE TELL ME. I'm like a junkie craving her Stephanie March and Mariska Hargitay fix at the moment... They have temporarily replaced my obsession with Lucy Lawless. w Okay, time to stop rambling.
Dedication: To the Mistress of my heart... and my bedroom.
Warning: Graphic lesbian sex ahoy! Although one of the participants is seventeen years of age, she is definitely consenting. And yes, there is a happy ending, and yes, the two leading ladies do end up together. I always do happy endings.
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Madison Rose stared down the prosecutor, her face set. Too many police interviews, too many statements, too many meetings with lawyers. Her mind was filled with buzzing white noise. She blinked, trying to focus. "I want to make a deal," she said, pink lips pressed together.
From across the table, Sullivan studied her closely, trying to burrow into her brain. Her intense focus made Madison's skin prickle. Not allowing herself to be intimidated, she held her shoulders straight, ignoring the dryness of her throat, the slippery knot of fear in her stomach.
"The People aren't putting you on trial, Ms. Rose. As far as I know, we have nothing to say to each other. What do you want, and what do you have to offer me in exchange?" she asked.
Sullivan looked calm, but curious. "What testimony?"
Madison frowned. The expression made her look older, wiser, and more serious. "You know what testimony."
"You are already testifying for the prosecution."
"I don't have to –"
Sullivan interrupted. "I'll subpoena you."
"I was going to say, I don't have to tell the truth. I have no problem with lying on the stand if it means protecting someone I love."
Sullivan got out of her seat, pushing up from the table with her palms. The cut of her black suit clung to her like the pelt of a lean, sleek predator. "That's perjury. You'll be under oath," she reminded Madison. "If you lie, I'll tear you apart on that witness stand, little girl. I don't think your family needs any more humiliation." Her voice was low, a warning.
Madison pretended to ignore her, but inside of her chest, her heart was pounding frantically against her ribs. "I won't lie for her. I meant for Hailey."
There was a long pause. Sullivan sat back down in her chair. She fixed her crooked glasses. "For Dr. Bennett." Her hair, once neatly tucked up, had begun to escape from its bobby pins.
Madison shook her head. "For Hailey," she repeated. "Drop everything. No rape charges. No reckless endangerment of a minor. No registering her as a sex offender. No charges. Make it happen."
Outside the window, a boat horn blared in the distance. It was a low, rumbling sound from far away. A cry of despair.
"Give me one reason to keep listening, Ms. Rose," said Sullivan. "I have a very solid case against Dr. Bennett."
"But there's a murder case you're working on that's not so tight. Am I right?" The lawyer nodded. She did not bother denying it. Madison was already neck-deep in both trials. "I'll help you. I can give you the murder weapon. Those jurors will send her away to rot for as long as you want."
Even Sullivan, who had seen many stone cold defendants come and go in her years as a lawyer in California, almost gasped in surprise. The steel in Madison's voice was almost chilling. The girl was only five foot two, with a toss of brown curls, big blue eyes, and milky skin. Thin, probably not eating well lately. But she was not going to back down. She even wanted to testify against family.
"Why wasn't this information given to the police?"
"I never lied to them. I didn't figure out the bit about the gun until they stopped questioning me."
"You lied by omission!"
"And I'll lie to the jury if you don't give me what I want. You drop the charges; I give you a name and a scenario in which the gun could have been accessed. I'll even testify about it like a good little girl, I promise. I'll talk to you about the relationship, the motive, the phone calls, and the gun."
Sullivan frowned. "I knew we had you down as a hostile witness for a reason. You're manipulative. How much is your word worth?"
"Gold. She shot my fiancée."
"You mean your rapist."
"Fiancée," Madison insisted. "Think about it. Who do you really want to put away more? A psychologist who made lo – had consensual sex with an underage patient, or a killer?"
It wasn't often that Sullivan found herself maneuvered into a tight corner. However annoying Madison might be, the prosecutor was forced to admit that her witness had her by the (metaphorical) balls. She didn't mind dropping the charges against the psychologist. It was obvious Hailey Bennett wasn't a criminal. Stupid, maybe. Misguided, maybe. In her opinion, someone killing your receptionist and coming after you with a gun was punishment enough for being an idiot who couldn't keep it in her pants.
What really bothered her was the way Madison had forced her to accept a deal. It was scheming. It was controlling. She had to admire the technique, even if a seventeen-year-old kid had just bruised her ego.
"Fine, Ms. Rose. I can play ball. I'll see that the charges are dropped. Now, you owe me a name and an explanation."