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IN THE BACK OF THE courtroom, the Bailiff called for Arthur Knoll. Several years younger than the other witness, Knoll hurried in, gave his pledge and sat down. He seemed a little on edge, as if he hadn’t testified in very many trials before.
“Mr. Knoll, state your full name and your occupation?”
“Arthur Knoll and I am a Certified Latent Print Examiner.”
“And do you work for the state of Oregon?”
“I do.”
Davis picked up a report and handed it to the expert. “Is this a report of your findings?”
Knoll pulled out a pair of glasses, put them on, and took a little longer than the others had to make certain he had the right report. “Yes, it is.”
Davis gave it to the clerk and continued, “Could you tell the jury a little bit about collecting fingerprint evidence?”
Arthur Knoll put his glasses away and turned to face the jury. “Everyone has a different set of fingerprints, and we leave ours on everything we touch. A print is a series of loops and arches. Visible prints are made on a card, such as when we get a driver’s license. Latent prints are those we leave on various surfaces without even thinking. At a crime scene, we use a dark powder on suspected surfaces to find the latent prints, and then we use a light source to see if the print is recognizable enough to be used in a trial.”
“And can you explain to the jury the procedure for collecting latent prints?”
Again, the witness turned to the jury. “We use a chemical called cyanoacrylate and a wand like tool that heats up the cyanoacrylate until it releases a vapor. The vapor interacts with the amino acids in a latent fingerprint, turns it white, and stains the paper.”
“Thank you,” said Davis. “Bringing your attention to the murder of Mrs. Lockhart, approximately how many fingerprints were collected and turned over to you for examination?”
“Approximately fifty.”
“Were you able to identify a fingerprint belonging to Mark Barrett?”
“I was.”
Davis took three more photos off the evidence table. “Permission to approach the witness?”
“Granted,” said the judge.
Davis showed the pictures to Livingston, who nodded, and then walked to the witness. “Can you identify each of these photographs for the jury?”
“The first is a picture of the door where the fingerprint was found.”
“What does the little green arrow tell us?”
“It points to the exact location of the print.”
“And the second picture?”
“The second is a copy of the fingerprint taken in the police station when Mr. Barrett was arrested, and the third is the latent print found on the door of Mrs. Lockhart’s bedroom.”
“Are you absolutely positive these two prints are a match?”
“I am. Aside from the usual curves and peaks, Mr. Barrett has a scar on his finger.”
“The defendant’s mother just bowed her head. Looks like she remembers that scar,” said Michael. “Probably a childhood injury.”
“Permission to show the jury, Your Honor?”
“Granted,” said the judge.
This time, Davis didn’t have an assistant to help him, so he went to his laptop himself and in an instant, the two photographs showed up side-by-side on the screen at the front of the courtroom.
“Even I can see the scar,” Carl muttered. “Jackie, I can’t find anything on the court reporter yet. Maybe Michael should start dating her. Nod if you agree.” He watched, smiled when she slowly nodded, and turned to look at Michael’s expression.
Michael frowned. “I don’t know. Now that I’ve gotten a better look at her, maybe I’m not that interested after all. She’s kind of young.”
Carl chuckled. “Do it for the sake of the company, Michael. Maybe you can find out who she is, and where she came from. Better yet, maybe she can help us get that DNA sample we need for our client.”
“I’ll think about it...for the good of the company, that is.”
Jackie smiled in spite of herself. Michael always backed down from his threats to find someone else when Carl challenged him. Still, she often found herself looking at the court reporter. Natalie Kirkwood seemed to be very good at a job that must have taken months to perfect. Of course, the technology had progressed as quickly in the court system as it had everywhere else. Having the latest equipment depended, however, on the county’s ability to pay for it.
Davis gave the original photos of the fingerprints to the court clerk to be entered into evidence, and waited until the jury had time to get a good look at the screen. Then he took the image down and put the screen back up in the ceiling. A moment later, he was back at the lectern asking the next question. “Mr. Knoll, were you able to tell how old the latent fingerprint was?”
“As far as I know, there isn’t any reliable way to tell how old any fingerprint is. Some prints are stronger and easier to read, but that might just mean the person grabbed the object harder, not that the print is more recent.”
“I see. Mr. Knoll, is it usual for people to have scars on the tips of their fingers?”
“Sometimes. It depends on how deep the actual cut was.”
“Is it your testimony that the fingerprint taken from Mrs. Lockhart’s door, and that of the defendant’s index finger are a match, excluding all other fingerprints?”
“It is.”
“I have no further questions of this witness.” Davis picked up his papers and returned to his table. When he looked, most of the people on the jury had already turned their attention to the defendant and his attorney, but juror number three, a short woman in her late twenties was still looking at him. She appeared to have a question on her mind and that happened sometimes. Maybe when the jury was in deliberations, she would ask for a clarification. Other than that, there was nothing Davis could do about it. He couldn’t even imagine what he missed, at least not where the fingerprints were concerned.
Jackie noticed it too. Most of the time, the DA had his back to her, and she wouldn’t be able to see him better until she got back to the hotel and watched the video that Michael and Carl were making. Did this man look more like his mother or his father? In her business, that was a valid question. Even with the age progression software that Michael used to make their subjects look older, she was never quite convinced until they actually found the missing person.
She suspected her own son looked like his father, but each time Michael enhanced Brian’s baby picture, he looked more like her. She couldn’t help herself. Jackie turned in her seat and began to glance at the faces of the young men behind her. She was surprised to see that the kid with the orange Mohawk had come back for the afternoon session. The one with dreadlocks had not.
“Hey, where are you going?” Michael asked Carl.
“I’m off to pick up the boss.”
“The trial isn’t over yet.”
“Worried about me, Michael? I’m touched.” Carl grabbed his baseball cap off the table and went out the door.
“I would have gone with him, you know.” Michael muttered. He watched, but he got no reaction from Jackie. She was so good at not letting him know what she was thinking. All he could do was hope she thought about him at least once a day. He sure thought about her often enough.
“Mr. Livingston?” the judge asked.
“Thank you, Your Honor.” He stood up, but remained beside his table. “Mr. Knoll, can you say for certain that Mark Barrett’s fingerprint was left on the bedroom door in the early hours of June 9th?”
“No, there is no way to verify when the door was touched.”
“Thank you. Now, were you able to identify fingerprints belonging to any of Mrs. Lockhart’s children?”
“Objection, not in evidence, Your Honor.”
“Your Honor, the state put the expert’s report into evidence. Therefore, the defense has the right to question him about the other fingerprints.”
“Objection overruled,” said the judge. “You may answer the question, Mr. Knoll.”
“Well, we probably found fingerprints belonging to all four of Mrs. Lockhart’s children, but we were unable to verify which belonged to whom.”
“Why was that?”
“We didn’t have the fingerprints of the four children on record. They refused to come to the station to be printed.”
Livingston intentionally raised an eyebrow. “They refused, I see.” He paused long enough for that to sink into the minds of the jury. “Of the fifty or so prints found at the murder scene, were three more prominent than the others?”
“They were.”
“Can you tell us where those prints were found?”
“We got a good palm print off the banister.”
“Was that the staircase bannister leading up to Mrs. Lockhart’s bedroom?”
“To the second floor, yes, sir.”
“And the other two?” Livingston asked.
“We found a set of four fingerprints on the door.”
“The front door?”
“Yes, sir.”
“On the inside or the outside of the door?”
“The inside.”
“Do you believe the prints were from the fingers of the same hand?”
“I do.”
“Which hand?”
“The left hand.”
“You mean like someone pulled the door closed after they went out?”
“Could be.”
“In your expert opinion, are those the fingerprints of a man or a woman?”
“A woman. The hand was certainly smaller than mine.”
“Where else were prints found?”
“There were four fingerprints on the footboard of Mrs. Lockhart’s bed.”
“Her footboard? Could you show us the way a person would have to touch the footboard to leave those prints?”
“Well, they were on the inside of the footboard, like he...or she, grabbed it like this.” The expert curled his fingers down, leaving a gap between his fingers and his hand.
“Thank you, Mr. Knoll. That set of prints were found on the bed she died in, is that correct?”
“That is correct.”
“And just to be clear, none of those prints could be identified as belonging to the defendant, Mark Barrett?”
“That’s right.”
“Mr. Knoll, after Mark Barrett was arrested, did you stop trying to identify the other fingerprints?”
“I did.”
“Thank you, Mr. Knoll, I have no further questions.”
“Jackie, the judge keeps watching juror number four in the front row. I’ve been watching her too. She doesn’t seem to be paying attention and instead, keeps fiddling with something in her lap. I can’t see what it is, but...”
“Redirect, Mr. Davis?”
“No, Your Honor,” Davis answered.
“Gentlemen, if you will give me just a moment.” Judge Blackwell motioned for the bailiff to come close and whispered in his ear. When he finished, he said, “Thank you. Gentlemen, let’s end today’s session. I’ll see both sides in my chambers. Bailiff, you may remove the jury. Court shall reconvene at nine a.m. tomorrow morning.” Judge Blackwell lightly banged his gavel and got up.
“All rise?” shouted the Bailiff.
Davis exchanged perplexed looks with Livingston, but Livingston only shrugged. The DA picked up a note pad and pen, and as soon as the judge disappeared through the door to his chambers, both attorneys followed him.
“I bet juror number four is about to get bounced for some reason,” said Michael as he watched Jackie and Holly walk out of the courtroom on the monitor.
“Maybe she’s sick,” Carl said.
“Could be, but I think it’s more serious than that. The judge sure didn’t look happy when he left.”
*
CONSIDERING THE WAY Mark’s parents hurried out of the courtroom, it was clear they weren’t interested in helping Holly avoid the news-thirsty reporters waiting on the front steps of the courthouse. Holly wasn’t in any hurry to leave this time either, and didn’t get up, so Jackie stayed with her.
“Do you need a ride?” Jackie asked.
“No, my hotel is not very far away. I’ll be fine.”
“Where are you staying?”
“The White Dove Hotel. The day before I came, I got a voucher for a free room and room service in the mail. There was no return address and the voucher says I can stay as long as the trial lasts. I didn’t like the idea of taking charity, but on the flight, I thought – why not?”
“You don’t know who sent it?”
Michael sat up a little straighter on the sofa. “I’m on it, Jackie. Let’s see who owns the White Rain Hotel. I bet it’s one of Atticus Lockhart’s hotels.”
Holly sighed. “I suspect Mark’s parents sent it just to make sure I came. I haven’t asked them, nor do I intend to. If it was them, it’s the only generous thing they have ever done. I worry they’re staying in the same hotel, but so far, I haven’t run into them.”
Jackie looked around. “We should go now. The courtroom is empty.”
“Okay.” Holly slowly got up. “I hate having to face the press again. I was hoping they would go away before I came out.”
“We could try going out the back door again.”
Holly smiled. “Maybe we can give that brown van a flat tire or smash in a window. They deserve it for taking my picture without permission.”
“My associate is supposed to pick me up. I’ll have him check the parking lot.” Jackie stopped, got her cellphone out, and called Carl. “Where are you?” she asked.
“I figured you’d go out the back?”
“Do you see a brown van?”
“Funny you should ask about that,” Carl answered. “They had a little engine trouble and had to call for a tow. The coast is clear.”
Jackie grinned. It wouldn’t be the first time Carl used a remote device to give a bothersome vehicle some kind of mysterious engine trouble. “Thank you. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Holly looped her purse strap over her shoulder, walked with her new friend out of the courtroom, around the corner, and down the long hallway. “The thing about the room is...there were fresh flowers and a bowl of fruit in it when I arrived. I don’t think Mark’s parents would pay for flowers. They hate me.”
“Maybe all the rooms have fresh flowers.”
“Maybe so, I haven’t stayed in enough hotels to know.”
“I have, and some hotels do that for their customers free of charge,” said Jackie.
“Good, I won’t worry about it then.”
Except for a black limo, the parking lot was completely empty. Jackie nodded to the driver, but instead of getting in, she continued to walk down the street beside Holly. When she glanced back, Carl was slowly following them.
Holly stopped when they reached the corner. “Jackie, my hotel is just down the block. I can make it from here. Are you going to court tomorrow?”
“I’ll be there. Would you like for me to sit with you again?”
“Please. I don’t want to deal with Mark’s father, and if I sit next to him, sooner or later he’ll say something to me.”
“I’d be happy to play buffer again. People can be very cruel sometimes.”
Holly nodded. “Yes, they can, especially when they refuse to hear the truth.”
“Get some sleep, you look exhausted.”
“I will. See you in the morning.” Holly smiled and walked away.
Jackie watched until Holly entered through the hotel door and disappeared. When she looked back, Carl was holding a back door open for her. “A limo?” she asked.
“They didn’t have anything else. Guess there’s a convention in town.” He frowned at her. “You look tired, too.”
“I am, a little. I didn’t count on how hard those benches are.”
He closed the door and rushed around to the driver’s side. The limo was blocking traffic, but neither of them cared. As soon as they were moving, Jackie took the necklace off, pulled the wireless out of her ear, and dropped both in her purse. Next, she pulled out her cellphone, put it on speaker and called Michael.
“Hey, boss. You sure look nice today.”
Jackie rolled her eyes. “I suggest you save your flattery for the court reporter. What do you have for me?”
“Well, the White Rain Hotel website lists Atticus Lockhart as the owner, just like I suspected. All the rooms have flowers and bowls of fruit. We’ve stayed in his hotels before and he likes giving his clients a taste of luxury.”
“With his mother’s money?”
“Probably.”
Jackie sighed. “Carl, why don’t you go to court tomorrow and hang around those two brothers just to see if you can figure out what they are up to. They seemed awfully interested in Mrs. Lockhart’s mail.”
Carl wrinkled his brow. “They sure did. Want me to bug them?”
“No, it’s not worth the trouble. Do we have anything new on our client’s behalf?”
“Nothing new,” Michael answered. “I’m convinced we’re on the right track though. All we have to do is figure out how to get close enough to get a DNA sample.”
Carl said, “It doesn’t look like it is going to be that easy.”
“No, it doesn’t, but we’ll figure something out,” said Michael.
“Anyway to find out who actually paid for Holly’s voucher?” Jackie asked.
“I’d have to break into the hotel computer, which I can do, but is it worth the trouble?” Michael asked. “It was probably Atticus. He managed to look at Holly once. None of the others have. Maybe he has a bit of a guilty conscience.”
“Or a crush on Holly,” said Carl. “Who wouldn’t? She’s a knockout.”
“I believe the word people use these days is awesome. You date yourself when you call a woman a knockout.”
“Who cares, Michael?” Carl shot back.
“I’ve been thinking,” said Jackie.
Carl shifted his eyes from the road to the rearview mirror. “Uh, oh, here it comes.”
“I don’t think the two of you have enough to do,” said Jackie. “I wouldn’t want you getting lazy.”
“Other than checking up on Mrs. Lockhart’s children?” Michael asked.
“Do you find that challenging?” she asked.
“Not really. We could start on another case, if you have one in mind.” Michael suggested.
Carl said, “You know, it might not be Atticus. One of the others might have paid for Holly’s room to make it look like Atticus did it. Maybe, they thought if the cops got close, they could cast suspension on Atticus and not...”
“Slone?” Michael asked. “That makes sense, although the two of them looked pretty chummy in court.”
“A conspiracy,” Jackie laughed. “I love a good conspiracy. Michael, could you tell what the sisters were talking about this afternoon?”
“I didn’t know we cared, but I’ll back it up and see if I can figure it out.”
“And find me a close up of the DA and Livingston. I’ve seen more than I care to of the back of their heads.”
“Okay,” said Michael. “Where we going for dinner?”
Jackie looked at a grinning Carl’s reflection in the rearview mirror. “You want dinner out tonight? There’s a restaurant right there in the hotel.”
“I know, but...”
“But what, Michael? Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing’s wrong...I guess.”
“Good, we’ll be home in a few minutes.” Jackie hung up the phone and then giggled. “It gets harder and harder to surprise him on his birthday. Is everything arranged?”
“We’re all set up. The chopper will land on the top of the hotel at exactly 7:00. I’d rather be flying it myself, but they got all kinds of new gadgets and trinkets on choppers these days. I guess I’ll have to stick to the Learjet.”
“You’re not trying to get me to buy you a chopper, are you?”
“Well, now that you mention it, I do have a birthday coming up soon.”
“The answer is no.”
“You’re not even going to think about it?” Carl asked.
“No, I’m not. We would have to give up the Learjet, and I like walking around when we travel.”
“I suppose it does have a little more room inside.”
“A lot more room inside.”
“Okay, a lot more. Just promise you’ll think about it.”
Jackie paused for a moment. “Okay, I’ve thought about it and the answer is still no.”
“No?”
“No.”
He drove in silence for a few minutes before Carl said, “I noticed the judge watching you a couple of times.”
“Did he?”
“I think he has a crush on you.”
Jackie giggled. “That’s not very flattering, he already has a wife.”
“Funny thing about husbands – most of them don’t ever stop looking at beautiful women.”
Jackie watched his mischievous eyes in the rearview mirror again. “The answer is still no.”
*
IN THE HOTEL SUITE, Jackie hurried to change into more casual clothing, and then sat next to Michael while they watched the portions of the video she asked to see. “I can’t figure out what the girls are talking about.”
Jackie smiled. “Melissa is afraid she is going to miss her five o’clock hair appointment.”
“Hair appointment?” Michael rewound the tape, and frowned when he realized Jackie was right. “I need more practice reading women’s lips, I guess.”
“You’ll catch on one of these days.”
“Jackie, I’m thinking of getting married.”
She didn’t take her eyes off the TV as the pictures of the DA and Livingston appeared side by side. “Already? You haven’t even asked the court reporter out yet.”
“I know, but she’s just my kind of lady. It means three hotel rooms instead of just two.”
“You’re thinking a court reporter would give up a cushy position like that, just to travel the world with the three of us?”
“I’m thinking what an asset she would be to the company. She can take notes a whole lot faster than we can.”
“With the right equipment?” Jackie asked. “You’ve got a point. After this case is over, Carl and I will leave you here to carry out your pursuits. Keep in touch, okay?” She couldn’t help but glance at Michael’s well practiced about-to-cry expression. It made her laugh.
When the door opened, Carl came in with a tray of food. He set the tray on the edge, and then spread a boring dinner of ordinary sandwiches, chips, and coffee on the table.
Michael did not hide his disappointment well, but he carried on as if nothing was wrong. “So what did you think of the trial today?”
“I think it is going by very quickly,” Carl answered. “It looks to me like the DA covered all the forensic evidence the first day. What could possibly be left?”
Michael cleared his throat as if he was about to make a speech. “I know all about this sort of thing. From now on, the DA just has to tidy up the evidence a bit. Right now, he’s got a fingerprint and a deputy who says Lexi Hamilton says Barrett gave her the necklace. It isn’t enough for a conviction in my estimation. He has to have more if he expects to win.”
“I agree,” said Jackie. “It’s not nearly enough for a conviction.”
“Personally,” said Carl, “I don’t care if they hang him or not. All I want is to watch Miss Childers testify again. She is something else.”
The three of them discussed the trial while they ate, and then at precisely six forty-five, Carl went to a desk drawer, retrieved a card in a beat-up envelope and handed it to Michael. “Happy birthday, old man?”
Michael’s eyes lit up. “You remembered?” He pulled the aging card out of the envelope, opened it, and looked at all the crossed off names. There were only two names on the card – Carl and Michael. This time, Carl had crossed off Michael’s last entry and signed his...again. “Thank you, thank you,” Michael sarcastically said. “Next year, I’m buying you a new card.”
“That’s what you said last year and the year before that.”
Jackie stood up. “Come with me, Michael.”
Michael put his napkin in his plate and excitedly got to his feet. “We...you and me...are going somewhere alone...finally?”
She wrinkled her brow. “And leave Carl behind?”
Michael’s smile quickly faded. “Of course not.”
Carl playfully slapped his friend on the back. “I was going to buy you a cake, but we might run into turbulence.”
“We’re going flying?”
“Yep,” said Carl. “Grab your jacket. There’s a chopper on the roof waiting for us.”
“A chopper? Where we going?” Michael asked as he pulled his jacket out of the coat closet.
Jackie grinned. “I’m taking you to see Mt. St. Helens from the air.”
Michael quickly slipped into his coat and then helped Jackie with hers. “Really? The volcano that erupted a few years ago?”
“That’s the one. I read an article that says the mountain is building a new dome at the rate of something like fifteen feet a day.”
“No kidding? What does that do to the theory of evolution? It’s supposed to take millions of years to build a mountain.” A thrilled Michael followed Jackie and Carl out, closed and locked the door behind him.
*
“HOW DID YOU SLEEP LAST night?” Jackie asked as she stood in the aisle beside Holly at the front row of the courtroom. As she promised, Holly saved a seat for her.
Mark’s parents were already there, and unfortunately, Holly was sitting beside his mother. She got up and stepped into the aisle so Jackie could take her place, and then sat on the outside. “I slept much better, thank you.”
Already seated at the defense table, Livingston turned around when he heard Holly’s voice. He stood up and came toward her, reached in his inside jacket pocket, and pulled out a letter. “Mrs. Barrett, your husband asked me to give this to you.” He smiled, handed it to her, and then returned to his seat.
Holly stared at her name on the envelope for a long moment. Obviously upset, she was about to tear it up when Jackie put a hand on it to stop her. “What if it says who hired him?”
“He only wants money, as if I have any to give. You can read it if you want.”
“I don’t want to pry.”
“I assure you, there is nothing in there I want to know.” Holly urged Jackie to take it. “Go ahead.”
Jackie slipped her finger under the sealed lip of the envelope, opened it, and then unfolded the letter. She pretended the glaring light in the ceiling was too bright, moved the letter, and then positioned her necklace so Michael could see it. Across the aisle, Carl sat directly behind Slone Lockhart, with a recorder in his pocket, a microphone hidden in his cufflink and an earpiece identical to Jackie’s in his ear. While Jackie read in silence, Michael read it aloud.
Holly, today Lexi will testify. You have to know she means nothing to me and never did. It is you I love and always will. Mom set up an account for me here in the jail. Honey, the food is awful and there is never enough of it. They sell extra food through the commissary, but I don’t have any money except what Mom chipped in. That won’t last long. Maybe you could hock your wedding rings. I paid a fortune for those.
Love you, can’t wait to hold you in my arms again. Don’t worry, they won’t convict me. I’ll be home soon.
XOXOXO, Mark
“He wants money, right?” Holly asked as soon as Jackie folded the letter back up.
“Right,” Michael answered.
Jackie put it back in the envelope and then nodded.
“That’s what I thought.”
Just as Jackie started to hand the letter back, Holly’s mother-in-law leaned forward, snapped her fingers, and motioned for Holly to give the letter to her. Holly took the envelope, glared at Mark’s Mother, defiantly tore the letter in half, and shoved both pieces in her purse.
“Bravo,” Jackie whispered, as she watched the bailiffs bring the defendant in. She was starting to hate Mark too, but she dared not let it show, not that Mark would have noticed. He was happy to see his parents, but when he looked at his wife, he put on a little puppy dog pout. Apparently, that had worked in the past, but it wasn’t working now. Holly refused even to look at him.
When court reconvened and the jury was brought back in, juror number four was missing.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” Judge Blackwell began after he took his place at the bench. “I remind you that you are not allowed to take notes either on paper, or by using any kind of recording device. Juror number four has been dismissed. Bailiff, please seat the first alternate in the jury box.”
“Looks like her tape recorder stopped working and that’s what she was fiddling with,” said Michael. “Carl and I tried to do a face recognition on her and came up with a possible match. We can’t be sure, but if we are right, juror number four writes crime novels. The court should have caught that, but people do tend to lie occasionally, especially if there is money in it.”
As soon as the alternate was seated, the judge said, “Gentlemen, let’s proceed. Mr. Davis, are you ready to call your next witness?”
“Yes, Your Honor. The state calls Alfred Smythe to the stand.”
Surprised, nearly half of the spectators turned to watch Alfred Smythe enter the room. Apparently, there was nothing about this witness in the newspapers or on TV. Several of the reporters scrambled to write down his name. Smythe’s appearance reminded Jackie a little of a computer nerd she once knew. He seemed a little rattled. It took him two tries to say ‘I do’ clearly enough for the clerk to accept it and tell him to be seated.
Davis tried to put his witness at ease. “Mr. Smythe, thank you for coming to talk to us today. Can you tell the court your full name and where you work?”
“My name is Alfred Smythe, Jr. and I work at Matt Hillman Internet Services.”
“What sort of business is that?”
“We build and maintain websites for businesses.”
“Is that the same company Mark Barrett worked for, before his arrest?”
“It is.”
“In June, 2012, did you share an office with Mr. Barrett?”
“Sort of. We have cubicles and mine was right across the aisle from Mark’s.”
“On the morning of June 10th, did you notice anything unusual about Mr. Barrett’s behavior?”
“I did.”
“For the jury, could you elaborate? Exactly how was he acting?”
“Well, he came to work late for one thing, and after he got there, he couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything.”
“Did you ask him what was wrong?”
“I did. He said he had a terrible fight with his wife.”
“I see. On June 18, 2012, were you there when the police came to arrest Mr. Barrett?”
“I was. He just kept saying, ‘I didn’t do anything.’”
“Did you believe him?”
“Not really?”
“Why not?”
“He was always lying to his wife over the phone.”
“Did Mr. Barrett ever mention Miss Lexi Hamilton?”
Alfred smirked. “He talked about her all the time?”
“About his affair with her?”
“Yes, He thinks he’s some kind of super stud.”
“Objection, Your Honor. The witness cannot know what Mr. Barrett thinks.”
“Sustained,” said the judge. “Move on, Counselor.”
“Mr. Smythe, have you ever seen Mark Barrett use a cellphone?”
“Yes. I didn’t know he had one. He even told me he didn’t, but then one day, it rang.”
“Do you recall when that was?”
“Not exactly, but it was before Mrs. Lockhart’s murder.”
“Do you know where it is now?”
“No, I didn’t see it after that.”
“I have no further questions,” said Davis.
Livingston slowly rose up. “Mr. Smythe, have you ever lied to your wife over the phone?”
Smythe sheepishly grinned. “Probably.”
“Thank you, I have no more questions.”
“I would never lie to my wife,” Michael said, “if I had one, which I don’t.”
Jackie ignored him. The juror with the thick glasses seemed a bit preoccupied. Maybe he’d been doing a little lying over the phone to his wife too. Funny how something that seems so harmless at the time, can be turned against you in a court of law.
Glad to have it over with, the witness quickly left the stand and walked out.
*
“THE PEOPLE CALL LEXI Hamilton.”
Holly caught her breath and turned to watch as the tall, slender, Lexi Hamilton came into the courtroom. The mistress didn’t look at the wife, as she opened the little gate, took the oath, and stepped into the witness box.
“Wow, she’s not nearly as pretty as Holly,” Michael said. “Mark Barrett is dumber than even the DA said.”
Jackie giggled.
“What?” Holly asked.
“I was just thinking about something one of my assistants said this morning. I wonder what those two are up to,” Jackie answered.
“Uh oh,” Michael whispered, “Busted.”
While the DA walked to the lectern, Holly asked, “Do you often have trouble with your assistants?”
“No, usually they are on top of things, but sometimes they get a little distracted.”
Holly turned her attention to Lexi. “She’s the mistress.”
“I thought so,” Jackie whispered back. “Mark prefers blondes, it seems.”
“I noticed that too.”
Davis looked at Lexi and smiled. “Good morning, Miss Hamilton.”
“Good morning.”
“Miss Hamilton, do you recognize anyone in this courtroom?”
“I recognize two people,” she answered.
Her answer seemed to catch the DA a little off guard, but he quickly recovered. “Miss Hamilton, do you know who Mark Barrett is?”
“I do.”
“Could you point him out for the record?” Davis paused while his witness pointed. “Let the record show that the witness is pointing to the defendant, Mr. Mark Barrett.”
“So ordered,” said the judge.
“Miss Hamilton, approximately how long had you known the defendant before he was arrested?”
“Just a few months.”
“Where did the two of you first meet?”
“Where I work.”
“Where do you work?” Davis asked.
“At the Simpson Bar and Grill.”
“After you first met, was Mark Barrett a regular visitor to your apartment?”
“He was.”
“How often would you say he came to see you?”
Lexi answered, “Once or twice a week.”
“Did he visit at a regular time of day, say after work, or did it vary?”
“It varied. Sometimes he came on his lunch break or right after work,” Lexi answered.
“Did he come in the evenings?”
“Not usually. I worked most evenings.”
“Would it be fair to say you were having an affair with Mark Barrett?”
The witness lowered her eyes. “Yes.”
“I’ve said it time and time again,” Michael said. “If you sleep with a married man, and you don’t want the world to know, you better make sure he doesn’t kill anyone.”
“On June 16th, did Mark Barrett give you a gift?”
“He did.”
“Was it wrapped up or in a box, like one would wrap a birthday present?”
“No, after we...” Lexi pause to take a deep breath. “I mean, he had it in his pocket, I guess. He just put it around my neck.”
“What other gifts did you receive from Mr. Barrett?”
“None. That was the only one he ever gave me.”
“Was it a special occasion?” Davis asked.
“No.”
“Did the necklace look expensive?”
“I thought it was fake. You know, made with simulated diamonds.”
“Did he tell you where he got the necklace?”
“He said he bought it for me with money he won gambling.”
“I see,” said Davis. “Now, did Mr. Barrett come to your house anytime on the 9th of June?”
“No.”
“Are you certain?”
“I am. I went to the mountains with a friend that week.”
“You were not home the week Mrs. Lockhart was murdered, is that correct?”
“That is correct.” Lexi still hadn’t looked at Holly and only looked at Mark when she pointed him out.
“When did you return from your week in the mountains?”
“Saturday, the 13th.”
“And that was the day Mr. Barrett gave you the necklace?”
“That’s right.”
“Do you remember anything unusual about the way he was acting that day?”
“Well, it took a long time that day. He seemed nervous and wasn’t in the mood or something, so we drank wine until he was feeling better.”
“How was he dressed that day?”
“In his usual Saturday golfing outfit.”
“Did you happen to notice what shoes he was wearing?”
“I did. He usually wore his blue slip-on shoes, but that day, he wore regular white tennis shoes.”
“By regular, do you mean the kind that lace up?”
“Leading the witness, Your Honor,” Livingston complained.
“Sustained.”
“I’ll withdraw the question.” Davis took a moment to consult his notes. “Did you happen to ask him where his blue shoes were?”
“No.”
“About what time did he arrive that Saturday?”
“Around two o’clock in the afternoon.”
“Did you spend the whole afternoon together?”
“We did. He gave me the necklace and then left.”
“How did you discover the necklace was the one belonging to Mrs. Lockhart?”
“Well,” Lexi began, “the papers and the news channels were full of talk about the murder and I was curious, so I looked Mrs. Lockhart up on the Internet. I found a picture of her giving a check to an orphanage at some sort of gala, and she was wearing the necklace. I freaked out.”
“When you freaked out, what did you do?”
“I called Deputy Musgrave and asked him to come over and look at it.”
In the audience, a cellphone suddenly rang. The judge instantly glared, both the attorneys turned around to see whom it was, and the bailiff in the back headed toward the offender.
“I forgot to turn it off,” the man Jackie had sat beside the previous morning pleaded. “It can happen to anyone.”
The bailiff was not impressed, and motioned for the man to come to him. Reluctantly, the man with the cellphone made his way down the row, which forced several people to stand up. As soon as he reached the aisle, the bailiff took hold of his arm and escorted him out. A moment later, the bailiff came back in and nodded to the still perturbed judge.
“Continue, Mr. Davis,” said Judge Blackwell.
Michael whistled. “Jackie, I hacked into the hotel computer. Whoever bought the voucher for Holly paid cash, and it’s good for a full month.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” said the DA. “Miss Hamilton, were you, or are you now, in love with Mark Barrett?”
Lexi scoffed. “No, he was just a diversion.”
“Ouch,” said Michael. “The defendant isn’t supposed to show emotion, but that made Mark Barrett flinch. Only a diversion? I wouldn’t be surprised if the poor guy is scarred for life.”
“Why did you need a diversion?” Davis asked.
“The man I love married someone else, and I was having a hard time getting over him. I thought being with another man would help, but boy, oh boy, I sure know how to pick ‘em.” Finally, she glared at Mark.
“Me too,” Holly whispered to Jackie.
“Half the jury is watching Holly,” said Michael. “They are not supposed to know who she is, but apparently they couldn’t seat a jury that hadn’t seen her picture in the paper. By law, they are required to swear they can render an impartial verdict even if they have been exposed to pretrial publicity.”
“I have no further questions,” said Davis as he picked up his papers and walked back to his table.
“Neither do I,” Holly whispered.
Jackie smiled and patted the back of Holly’s hand. She’d been watching Judge Blackwell, and more than once, the judge looked to see how upset Holly was getting. It was something Jackie found very endearing about the judge. So far, Holly was hanging in there, and in her place, Jackie wasn’t sure she could be that calm.
*
IT WAS THE DEFENSE attorney’s turn. Livingston walked to the lectern and smiled at the witness the same way Davis had. “Miss Hamilton, have you ever been convicted of a felony?”
“Objection, Your...” Davis started.
Caught completely off guard, Lexi gasped, “No!”
“Objection overruled,” the judge said. “The defense has the right to challenge the credibility of the state’s witnesses.”
“Thank you,” said Livingston. “Miss Hamilton, at the time you began your affair with Mark Barrett, did you know he was married?”
“Sure.”
“Did Mr. Barrett ever show you a gun?”
“No, I would have freaked if he had. I hate guns.”
“Do you own any guns?”
“No.”
“Miss Hamilton, did the defendant, Mr. Barrett, ever mention knowing Mrs. Lockhart?”
“No.”
“Did he confess to killing Mrs. Lockhart?”
“Good grief, no.”
“Thank you.” Livingston quickly went on as if he didn’t want the witness to have time to think. “Miss Hamilton, you said you recognize two people in the courtroom today. Aside from the defendant, who is the other one?”
“What?”
“Miss Hamilton, how long have you known Slone Lockhart?”
“Oh, boy, now this is getting good,” Michael said.
Davis half rose up. “Objection, relevance?”
“Your Honor,” said Livingston, “the state asked if she recognized anyone, and Miss Hamilton testified that she recognized two people. The defense contends the other person is Slone Lockhart, the victim’s son.”
“Objection overruled. Continue, Mr. Livingston.”
“Yes, Your Honor. Miss Hamilton, do you recall the question?”
“Yes, do you want to know how long I have known Slone Lockhart? About ten years. I bought a car from him a long time ago.”
“When was the last time you saw Slone Lockhart?”
Lexi bowed her head and didn’t answer.
“Miss Hamilton, are you having a memory lapse?”
“No, sir.” She reluctantly raised her head and looked Livingston in the eye. “The last time I saw Slone was the week his mother was murdered. He came up to the lodge to spend the night.”
“Just one night?”
“Yes.”
“Which night was that?”
“Tuesday.”
“The night his mother was murdered?”
“I guess.”
Livingston was trying hard not to look pleased. “Did you and Slone Lockhart sleep in the same bed that night?”
Lexi stared at Slone for a long moment. “No.”
“I see. So you cannot provide an alibi for him?”
“Well, I saw him arrive, and then leave the next morning.”
“But you cannot swear he was there the whole night, can you?”
“No,” she answered.
“How long does it take to drive from Portland to the lodge?”
“About two hours.”
“So roundtrip takes approximately four hours?”
“That’s about right.”
“Isn’t it true that you are having an affair with Slone Lockhart?”
Davis hopped up. “Asked and answered, Your Honor.”
“Sustained.”
“I’ll withdraw the question. Isn’t it true, that Slone Lockhart gave you a new car for your birthday last year?”
Again, she hesitated to answer. At length, she said, “Yes.”
“Excuse me,” said Livingston as he placed his hand beside his ear. “Miss Hamilton, could you speak up?”
She lifted her chin and glared at the defense attorney. “I said yes.”
“Was that about six months after his mother’s murder?”
“Maybe...probably.”
“Yet, you just testified that you had not seen Slone Lockhart since you saw him at the lodge the night his mother died.”
“I forgot about the car.”
“I see. Miss Hamilton, if you are not having an affair with Slone Lockhart, why did he give you such an expensive gift?”
“He likes me, I guess.”
“Our Mr. Slone looks none too happy right now,” said Michael. “He is not frowning at Lexi, but he hasn’t taken his eyes off her either.”
“Isn’t it true, that the new car Slone Lockhart gave you was a bribe to get you to provide him with an alibi for that night?”
“No.”
“Is it your testimony, under oath, that you are not lying about seeing him at the lodge that night?”
“No, I am not lying. He was there. I saw him.”
“You mean Slone Lockhart gave you a new car for no reason?” Livingston pressed.
“It was my birthday.”
“I see. Do you know of anyone else he has given such a generous gift to?”
“No.”
“Did Slone Lockhart give you the car to keep you from implicating him in his mother’s murder?”
“Asked and answered,” said Davis.
“Sustained.”
Livingston continued to push forward with his rapid questions. “Did Mr. Lockhart ever talk to you about his mother?”
“No...well, yes, once.”
“What did he tell you?”
“It was years ago, I don’t remember exactly.”
“Miss Hamilton, please tell the jury what you do remember.”
“It was something about a fight he had with his father over something his mother did. He didn’t tell me anything more than that.”
“Have you been promised any future monetary gain for providing him with an alibi?”
“No.”
“Isn’t it true, Miss Hamilton, that Mr. Lockhart gave you the necklace and not Mark Barrett?”
“No,” she nearly whined. “Mark gave it to me.”
Livingston paused to stare at the witness for a moment. “I wonder, did you kill Mrs. Lockhart?”
Lexi rolled her eyes. “Of course not.”
“Did you steal her jewelry?”
“No. I didn’t even know where she lived.”
“You said that Mark Barrett never mentioned knowing Mrs. Lockhart, is that correct?”
“That is correct.”
“So to your knowledge, he didn’t have any reason to kill her?”
“That’s right,” Lexi answered.
“Just so I am clear, to your knowledge, did Mr. Barrett own a gun?”
“I never saw him with one.”
“Could he have been wearing one without your knowledge?”
“I don’t think so. I would have noticed when he took off his clothes.”
Livingston ignored the laughter in the room. “Did he ever ask you to keep anything for him?”
“No.”
“Miss Hamilton, did he leave a cellphone at your house?”
“He didn’t have one that I know of.”
“Do you know where the rest of Mrs. Lockhart’s jewelry is?”
“I do not. I certainly don’t have it, if that’s what you are implying.”
Livingston ignored her irritated answer. “To your knowledge, did Mrs. Holly Barrett know you were having an affair with her husband?”
“I doubt it. Half the town knew, but not his wife. He wasn’t very secretive about it and he wasn’t worried about her finding out either. She had two little kids to take care of and no car, so it wasn’t like she was going to drive around trying to find him.”
Once more, the judge watched Holly, and Jackie watched the judge. When Jackie glanced at her, Holly had her head down, but she didn’t seem to be too upset.
“Did Mr. Barrett talk to you about having fights with his wife?”
“He mentioned one or two.”
“Did he tell you what they were about?”
Lexie took a deep breath as though she had forgotten to breathe. “Mostly, they fought about money, but I don’t know the details. I really didn’t want to know.”
“Did Holly Barrett ever call or threaten you?”
That question made Holly raise her head and stare at her husband’s defense attorney.
“No,” Lexi answered. “I never heard from her. I didn’t even know what she looked like until her picture was in the paper.”
“To your knowledge, has Holly Barrett ever threatened to harm anyone else?”
“No.”
“So you do not know if she had a reason to kill Mrs. Lockhart?”
Davis shot out of his seat. “Objection, Your Honor! Foundation.”
Judge Blackwell looked equally outraged when he loudly said, “Sustained!”
Livingston ignored the judge, consulted his notes, and then said, “I have no further questions for this witness.”
Holly continued to stare at the public defender as he left the lectern and returned to his seat beside her husband. Her brow was deeply wrinkled when she turned to Jackie. “What...what was that all about? He’s not trying to blame the murder on me, is he?”
Jackie sighed. “I hope not.”
“Amazing,” said Michael. “That jerk of a husband actually let his attorney imply that Holly had something to do with it. He’s looking smug too. What a nice guy, what a really, really, nice guy! I say it’s time to help the defense blame this on someone other than Holly. Touch your chin if you agree, Jackie.” He waited, and when she did, he gleefully rubbed his hands together. “Good. I’ve discovered Slone Lockhart has a bit of a secret life. I bet his wife doesn’t know about it, and I bet Lexi does. Don’t ask me how I found out. It’s a little trick I learned at hacking school. See, you make a simple request to a...never mind, I’ll explain it later.”
