Chapter 18
As
Hoping to make the experience as quick and
painless as possible,
“Alissa, I want you to tell us what happened
the Sunday evening before your father was killed.”
Even with the microphone, her halting voice
was barely audible. “After we had dinner, my dad made each of us tell him what
we had learned in church that day. I helped my brother with some reading, then
we went to bed.”
When she didn’t immediately continue,
She twisted her fingers tightly together in
her lap. “My sister was already asleep when my mother came into the room we
shared. She said I should get up and pack as much of our stuff as I could in
some boxes she had with her, and that I should put everything we needed for
school in one box so we could find it easily. I woke my sister up so she could
help me, and we packed everything in our room.”
“What did you do next?”
“My mother asked me to help my brother and
sister carry some of the boxes out to our car, so I did. Then she told us to
get into the car and we left.”
“Where was your father?”
“He was asleep in my parent’s bedroom.”
“He
didn’t wake up while you were packing?”
“No. My mother said he had taken a sleeping
pill because he was going to start a big project at work the next day and
needed to get some rest. Whenever he took a sleeping pill it was really hard to
wake him.”
“And you’re sure he was alive when you left?”
“Yes. As we were walking out, I passed their
bedroom and I saw him move.”
“Where did your mother say you were going?”
“She said she was taking us to her friend
Sandy’s house.”
“Did she say anything about your father
coming along?”
The girl glanced at her mother. “Not really.
She told us that he was going to go on a trip with his work and we were going
to stay with Sandy while he was gone.”
“What happened once you reached Sandy
Hamilton’s home?”
“We unloaded what we had brought with us and
Sandy showed us where we could put everything.”
“Was she surprised to see you?”
“No. She had one room ready for my sister and
me and another one for my brother.”
“How did she know you were coming?”
“My mother said she had called her before we
left.”
“Did you see or hear her do so?”
“No.”
“What did your mother do when you arrived?”
“She helped us unpack a few things and get
settled into bed. Then she left.”
“Did she say where she was going or what she
was going to do?”
Alissa smoothed back her hair with a shaky
hand. “She told me she was going back to our house to get the rest of our
things and that she would return later.”
“Do you know how long she was gone?”
“No. I fell asleep before she came back.”
“What did you do the next day?”
“My mother took my brother and sister and me
to lunch, then to enroll in our new schools.”
“And did your mother say anything about your
father that day?”
The girl shook her head. “No.”
“What about the following days, before she
was arrested?”
“She didn’t say anything about him at all.”
“Thank you, Alissa. I have no further
questions,” Carmichael told her with what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
Standing up, Morgan slowly walked toward the
witness stand. “Alissa, was your mother nervous or upset the Sunday night your
father died?”
Carmichael stood up. “Objection. Counsel is
asking the witness to testify as to the defendant’s state of mind. Given that
she isn’t a mental health professional, or a mind reader, she isn’t qualified
to answer the question.”
Morgan turned toward the judge’s bench. “Your
Honor, I’m not asking the witness about Mrs. Grayson’s state of mind. I’m only
asking her to tell us what she observed in regards to the demeanor of her
mother, with whom she has lived all of her life. Surely that qualifies her to
answer the question.”
“Overruled,” Judge Yee nodded. “The witness
may answer the question.”
As Carmichael resumed her seat, the girl
focused once more on Morgan. “Mostly, my mother seemed sad. I woke up later
that night and I heard her crying.”
“And the next day? How did she seem then?”
Looking at her mother, tears began to fill
her eyes and her voice grew unsteady. “She was still sad. She spent the whole
day with us and kept saying how much she loved us and wanted us to be good
while we were at Sandy’s. And she told us she didn’t want us to worry about
anything. I didn’t really understand what she meant at the time.” She looked at
Morgan pleadingly through the tears. “What she did to my father wasn’t her
fault.”
From her angle of view, Carmichael could only
partially see Morgan’s face as she stood to the side of the jury. But the
partial view was all she needed to recognize her indecisiveness.
After a brief pause, Morgan said quietly, “I
don’t have any other questions for this witness.”
Alissa Grayson looked at Morgan in vague
surprised, then relief flooded her face at Judge Yee’s dismissal. She stood up
quickly, bumping the microphone in her haste to leave the stand.
Carmichael breathed a sigh of relief. She had
been right: Morgan had chosen not to take the opportunity to ask the girl about
her home life, even though Alissa had more than opened the door to such
questioning with her final statement.
“You may call your next witness, Ms.
Carmichael,” Judge Yee suggested.
“The People rest, Your Honor.”
“Then we will recess for lunch, after which
the defense may begin to present their case.”
***McCoy
checked the clock on the back of the courtroom wall just before he hit the
door. With any luck, he would be in time to hear for himself what Morgan had
decided regarding the questioning of Alissa Grayson. He walked quickly, dodging
people on his way down the crowded corridor.
When he reached the door to Part 36, he
pushed it open carefully, then stopped short. With the exception of a single
figure, the room was empty. He approached the prosecution’s table and stood at
a discreet distance while Penland finished a cell phone conversation.
Penland turned to look over his shoulder as
he slipped his phone into his briefcase. “Hey, Jack. If you’re looking for
Abbie, you just missed her.”
McCoy took a couple of steps toward the table
as Penland packed his remaining belongings.
“What about Calea? How long ago did she
leave?”
Standing up and joining McCoy, he answered,
“She left before Abbie did.”
“Did she say anything about where she was
going?”
“Are you kidding? Judging by the ‘drop dead’
look she sent our way, I got the feeling she wasn’t too happy about the
People’s last witness. She took off as soon as we were dismissed.”
With a sigh, McCoy started for the door.
Penland walked beside him. “If you don’t have
any other plans, maybe I could buy you lunch. There’s an arson case I could use
some advice on.”
McCoy stopped at the door and turned to him,
intending to politely beg off. But noting the eager expression on the younger
man’s face, he forced a smile. “Looks like my plans fell through. Where do you want to
go?”
***Carmichael
sat in her chair, picking at a hangnail. She knew she needed to tackle the
stack of files on her desk, but couldn’t seem to find the motivation. All she
could think about was how much she wanted to go for a long, hard run. But the
thought of running alone only made her more depressed.
“I think you took the memo on conserving
energy a little too seriously,” McCoy commented from the doorway. “Don’t you
believe in using the lights anymore?”
Motioning for him to turn them on, she said,
“I just came in and hadn’t gotten around to turning them on.”
After flipping the switch, he regarded her
carefully. “How did it go?”
“With whom? The prosecution, the defense, or
the witness?” she asked dryly.
Taking a seat near the door, he decided,
“Start with the prosecution.”
Carmichael shrugged. “I’d say it’s a toss-up
as to whether putting Alissa Grayson on helped us or not.”
“And the defense?”
“Let’s just say Calea and I aren’t going
running together today, or tomorrow, or anytime next week for that matter. I’m
thinking sometime next month might be too soon for her to share anything more
than courtroom air with me.” Opening a desk drawer, she rummaged around for a
nail clipper. “The witness, on the other hand, seemed to come through the whole
ordeal best of all. Since Calea chose not to ask her anything about her father,
she was visibly relieved. After we recessed, I spoke with the court officer and
asked permission for her to have lunch with her mother. They both seemed to
appreciate the time together.”
His eyebrows arched. “That was thoughtful of
you. Any particular reason for the sudden attack of charity?”
Shaking her head at the wise-crack, she said,
“Contrary to popular opinion, it isn’t the first nice thing I’ve ever done in
my life.”
He sat forward and leaned his elbows on his
knees. “You have nothing to feel guilty about, Abbie. You did what you felt you
had to.”
“Right,” she agreed unconvincingly.
“Sometimes, to do our jobs as the good guys,
we have to look like the bad guys,” he admitted. “Calea knows that. She’ll get
over all of this. You’re too good of friends for her not to. Give her some
time.”
“Hind-sight is twenty-twenty. Stop beating
yourself up about something that’s over and done with. Chalk it up to
experience and go on,” McCoy advised. “After I finish going over some points
for tomorrow with Serena, why don’t you let me buy you a drink? A change of
scenery would do you good.”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
“What? You get to cheer me up when I’m down
in the dumps, but I’m not allowed to return the favor?” he demanded teasingly.
“I’d be lousy company. You’ve got enough with
your case; you don’t need me crying on your shoulder.”
McCoy grinned and shook his head. “You need a
break from Calea. You’ve been hanging around her too long. You’re even starting
to sound like her.”
Failing to grasp his humor, she asked
sharply, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He only smiled more broadly as he stood up
and checked his watch. “Nothing. I’m coming back in an hour. Be ready to go.”
Not waiting for an argument, he headed for
the door, turning off the lights as he left her office.
***Lewin
appeared at the opposite door of McCoy’s office as Southerlyn gathered her
notes and left through the other for her cubicle across the hallway.
“How did court go?”
“Fine,” he answered as she sat down on the
sofa. “I should wrap up our side by the middle of next week.”
“That’s good to hear. Have you talked with
Abbie today?”
“I spoke with her a little while ago. Why?”
“She seems upset, and I don’t think it’s all
about the case, per se. I couldn’t get her to talk about it, but I got the
feeling it’s something personal. When she told me she wanted the Grayson case,
she assured me she could keep her friendship with this other attorney separate,
but I’m not sure she’s managing that very well.”
“Going up against a friend makes this case is
a little different from any she’s handled on her own before, and she’s having
some self-doubts,” McCoy noted. “She’ll work it out, though.”
“I hope so. I don’t like seeing her so down.
I’m glad she seems to be able to talk about her problems with you.”
“Well, I had to pry it out of her,” he
admitted with a smile.
She returned the smile. “Tell me something
about the attorney she’s up against.”
He shrugged. “She’s good.”
“It takes more than being a good attorney to
become a friend.”
McCoy nodded in agreement. “Calea is
special.”
Noting the smile in his eyes, she said, “I’d
like to meet her someday.”
“Next time she stops in, I’ll introduce you,”
he promised.
“You do that.” She got up and started for the
door. “Keep me posted on your case and how things are with Abbie. If I can do
anything to help the situation, let me know. See you in the morning, Jack.”
***With
the number of rings that had gone unanswered, McCoy had resigned himself to
leaving a message when Morgan’s breathless voice finally answered into his ear.
“Calea, it’s Jack. I was about to give up on
you.”
“I’m sorry. I was in the shower and didn’t
hear the phone right away.”
“I’ve been trying to call you all evening.
Where have you been?”
“It’s been a hectic day. I had a long meeting
with a client after court and then I went for a run. I only got home a little
while ago.”
“Burning the candle at both ends again,” he
noted. “I thought you were going to wait and have lunch with me today.”
“I was in need of some serious alone time
after Alissa took the stand. I didn’t feel much like conversation.”
“Abbie told me you didn’t ask Alissa any
questions about her father. Weren’t you happy with your decision?”
With a heavy sigh she said, “I don’t know.
I’m not sure I did the right thing. I think you may have been right last night.
It’s possible that I put my personal feelings ahead of my client’s best
interest.”
“You did what you thought was right,” McCoy
reminded her. “I wish you would’ve gone to lunch with me. We could have talked
things out. I did offer to lend an ear or a shoulder, remember?”
Morgan was quiet for a moment, then finally
said, “You know me. I’m pretty self-sufficient. I like to work things out for
myself.”
“Don’t remind me,” he responded, only half
joking. “I thought about you as I was eating left-over lasagna tonight. Did you
finish your ravioli?”
“I haven’t had the chance. I’ve only been
home long enough to take a shower.”
“You haven’t eaten yet? I’d better let you
go, then. I wouldn’t want you to faint from hunger. Maybe we can meet up for
lunch tomorrow and talk more.”
“I can’t tomorrow. I have to deliver a
contract to a client on my lunch break,” she explained. “But I appreciate the
offer.”
“Okay. I’ll try to pin you down another day
this week. Sleep well, Calea.”
“You too, Jack.”
After he laid down the phone, he sat thinking
about the two separate but similar conversations he had had that evening. It
was nice to be the ambassador of good will for a change instead of standing on
one side or the other of the issue. But at least
He swung his feet up and stretched out on the
sofa, propping an arm behind his head and closing his eyes to block out the
light. As he began to relax and drift off slightly, the words to a song an old
girlfriend used to play over and over again floated around his mind. He tried
to remember how it started, but could only recall the refrain: “Let me be the
one you run to, let me be the one you come to. When you need someone to turn
to, let me be the one…” He wished that, just once, Morgan would willingly turn
to him and allow him to offer comfort and a listening ear. Just once…