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Authors: Carla Norton, Christine McGuire
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her making various requests, she did her best to comply.
Janice also talked with her in-laws. Perhaps as a way of deflecting responsibility for Cameron’s arrest away from herself, she said some rather astonishing things, including that she knew “for a fact that Colleen wasn’t raped.” Mr. and Mrs. Hooker suggested she tell this to Papendick.
And so, to Papendick’s surprise, he found Janice standing in his office saying she could “destroy Colleen’s story” and indicating that she wanted to talk about the case.
From the start, it was clear to Papendick that if he accepted this case, Janice Hooker would be testifying for the prosecution.
He took mental notes of what she said but cautiously advised her that, since he was probably going to be representing Cameron, she would need to seek separate counsel. Then he referred this woman, whom he found “very, very, very emotionally distraught and confused,” to Ron Mclver, another respected criminal attorney in the area.
Shortly thereafter, Rolland Papendick seated himself across from Cameron Hooker in the attorney visiting room at the county jail, a pane of glass separating them across a shared table. A slot at the bottom of the glass allows the attorney to pass papers back and forth to the prisoner, but other than this, there can be no physical contact between the two.
When Hooker was brought in, clad in his blue inmate’s uniform, Papendick appraised the lanky, six-foot-four-inch fellow, introduced himself, and started asking questions…
Papendick came away from this first meeting with the opinion that his new client was “totally and completely honest.” What impressed him most was that when he asked, “How did you meet Colleen Stan?” Cameron unhesitatingly replied, “I kidnapped her.”
CHAPTER 7
Most crimes are over in a matter of moments-a trigger pulled, blood spilled, the law broken in a snap — but here was a succession of crimes spanning more than seven years, a pattern of abuse that had become a way of life.
And as soon as Deputy District Attorney Christine Mcguire heard about the “sex slave” case, she knew it belonged to her.
She’d been on an out-of-town trip when the case broke. Her first day back in the office, she heard all about it — weird evidence like a “stretcher” and a “head box” and something akin to a coffin. This was the wildest case ever to hit Tehama County, and the details only strengthened Mcguire’s conviction that of all the attorneys in the office, she ought to be the one to prosecute Cameron Hooker. She was the office “sexpert,” the specialist on prosecuting sex offenses, and Hooker was due to be charged with at least a dozen felony sex crimes.
The problem was that no one else in the office seemed to be making what she thought was an obvious connection.
She’d come into the office early that morning, half expecting the Hooker file to be on her desk. But not only was the file absent, by mid-morning no one had even consulted her about the case.
Offended, she sat hunched over a stack of papers at her desk, her dark hair shrouding her face, a cup of coffee in hand. She and the coffee were both learning.
Voices were discussing the case just outside her door. She put down her pen and listened.
“I can give you a report on what the victim had to say. I interviewed Colleen Stan last week.” The voice was familiar: Detective Al Shamblin.
“Fine. Bring that by, and let’s go over everything we’ve got against Hooker.” Mcguire recognized the other voice as Assistant District Attorney Ed King.
So, she thought, King was getting the Hooker case.
Dammit, she’d paid her dues. She’d been prosecuting sex crimes for four years, practically since the first day she’d walked in the door. Everyone was delighted to have her handle those messy interviews with rape and child molest victims, but now, when a really big case came along, it was passed along to someone higher up.
How many times since
Janice also talked with her in-laws. Perhaps as a way of deflecting responsibility for Cameron’s arrest away from herself, she said some rather astonishing things, including that she knew “for a fact that Colleen wasn’t raped.” Mr. and Mrs. Hooker suggested she tell this to Papendick.
And so, to Papendick’s surprise, he found Janice standing in his office saying she could “destroy Colleen’s story” and indicating that she wanted to talk about the case.
From the start, it was clear to Papendick that if he accepted this case, Janice Hooker would be testifying for the prosecution.
He took mental notes of what she said but cautiously advised her that, since he was probably going to be representing Cameron, she would need to seek separate counsel. Then he referred this woman, whom he found “very, very, very emotionally distraught and confused,” to Ron Mclver, another respected criminal attorney in the area.
Shortly thereafter, Rolland Papendick seated himself across from Cameron Hooker in the attorney visiting room at the county jail, a pane of glass separating them across a shared table. A slot at the bottom of the glass allows the attorney to pass papers back and forth to the prisoner, but other than this, there can be no physical contact between the two.
When Hooker was brought in, clad in his blue inmate’s uniform, Papendick appraised the lanky, six-foot-four-inch fellow, introduced himself, and started asking questions…
Papendick came away from this first meeting with the opinion that his new client was “totally and completely honest.” What impressed him most was that when he asked, “How did you meet Colleen Stan?” Cameron unhesitatingly replied, “I kidnapped her.”
CHAPTER 7
Most crimes are over in a matter of moments-a trigger pulled, blood spilled, the law broken in a snap — but here was a succession of crimes spanning more than seven years, a pattern of abuse that had become a way of life.
And as soon as Deputy District Attorney Christine Mcguire heard about the “sex slave” case, she knew it belonged to her.
She’d been on an out-of-town trip when the case broke. Her first day back in the office, she heard all about it — weird evidence like a “stretcher” and a “head box” and something akin to a coffin. This was the wildest case ever to hit Tehama County, and the details only strengthened Mcguire’s conviction that of all the attorneys in the office, she ought to be the one to prosecute Cameron Hooker. She was the office “sexpert,” the specialist on prosecuting sex offenses, and Hooker was due to be charged with at least a dozen felony sex crimes.
The problem was that no one else in the office seemed to be making what she thought was an obvious connection.
She’d come into the office early that morning, half expecting the Hooker file to be on her desk. But not only was the file absent, by mid-morning no one had even consulted her about the case.
Offended, she sat hunched over a stack of papers at her desk, her dark hair shrouding her face, a cup of coffee in hand. She and the coffee were both learning.
Voices were discussing the case just outside her door. She put down her pen and listened.
“I can give you a report on what the victim had to say. I interviewed Colleen Stan last week.” The voice was familiar: Detective Al Shamblin.
“Fine. Bring that by, and let’s go over everything we’ve got against Hooker.” Mcguire recognized the other voice as Assistant District Attorney Ed King.
So, she thought, King was getting the Hooker case.
Dammit, she’d paid her dues. She’d been prosecuting sex crimes for four years, practically since the first day she’d walked in the door. Everyone was delighted to have her handle those messy interviews with rape and child molest victims, but now, when a really big case came along, it was passed along to someone higher up.
How many times since
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