Betrayal (15 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Betrayal
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“Mr. Rocket, how many other children have you molested?”
“Do you like boys, too?”
“Are you registered as a sex offender?”
The reporters kept shouting their questions at them. It was all Kate could do to keep from rolling down the window and telling them all to screw themselves. She mentioned this to James as they maneuvered their way through the crowds in search of a parking space.
“You wouldn't want that splashed across the front page of the
Naples Daily News
, that's for sure. Remember, this is a big news story for them, and that's all it is. They don't care about the people they're reporting on, just the story. Don't let their comments offend you.”
Like hell
, Kate thought.
James found a place between a van and a scooter. Miracles never ceased. They needed one then, Kate theorized, as they crept through the hallway, back to the courtroom.
Ten minutes later, court was back in session. The lights dimmed, and Sara dominated the screen once again.
“Sara, tell me about the cigarette burn,”
Wykowski said.
“What's to tell? He burned me. We were having a cookout. Mommy likes to cook.”
And that was the biggest piece of fantasy Kate had heard about Debbie since they'd met. The woman didn't know the difference between motor oil and olive oil.
“Uncle Alex was at the grill cooking hamburgers. He had that cigarette hanging out of his mouth like always. I went over to the grill with my plate. Mommy told me to get a hamburger. I always do what she asks. Then when nobody was looking, Uncle Alex took the cigarette out of his mouth. He smashed it on my neck. See?” Sara turned to the camera so her wound was visible.
 
Kate strained, but didn't see a thing.
 
“Then what did you do?” the ADA asked.
“I dropped my plate. I ran inside and got an ice cube. I put some aloe on it. It was okay after that. I went back outside and Mommy gave me her hamburger.”
“You didn't tell your parents what had just happened to you?”
“Nope. I didn't want Uncle Alex to kill my dad. He'd said that before. I figured he still meant to kill him if I ever told
anything
he did to me.”
“Tell me about the times when Mr. Rocket hit you.”
“Which time? There were lots of them.”
“Just tell me the ones you remember the most.”
“I remember all of them. Want me to tell you all of them?” Sara looked to the side.
“Okay, yes. Mommy says to tell all of them. Well, the first time he really hit me, we were in Asheville. It was Christmas. Mommy and Daddy were on one of their cruises. They always go on a cruise when we stay with Aunt Kate and Uncle Alex. I think me and Emily will have to go with them now. But, anyway, it was Christmas. Emily and Aunt Kate were in the kitchen baking cookies. Uncle Alex was in the den watching the television. I think it was the Playboy Channel. I remember telling Mommy about seeing all the naked ladies. So I was just messin' around. I guess I stood in front of the television too long or something. The next thing I remember is Uncle Alex smacking me in the face. I cried and ran upstairs. I so wanted Mommy, but she was on the cruise.”
“Did you tell your sister or Mrs. Rocket what happened?”
“No. They never believe anything I say. Like the Conzelmans' cat. Emily swore to Mommy that I was dragging Snuggles around by its tail. But she just lied 'cause she wanted to get me into trouble. That's how Aunt Kate is, too. She believes anything Emily and Uncle Alex tell her. I was glad when my parents picked me up. I told Mommy I never wanted to go back, but she said that would hurt Aunt Kate's feelings and all. I just kept going on the visits.”
Emily must have told Debbie about the cat incident. Good for her. A hand came into the camera's view with a paper cup. Gulping noises were heard across the courtroom.
“And when were you hit again?”
Sara rubbed her eyes, then started picking her nose. She rolled a booger between her thumb and index finger. Watching her, Kate gagged.
“We were at our house in Naples. Not the one we live in now, the other one. The one Mommy called a high-priced outhouse.”
“Sara!” Debbie exclaimed.
“Well, that's what you called it,” Sara said.
Wykowski spoke up, “Sara, let's just talk about Mr. Rocket and the things he did to you. Remember, we're here to make sure that he never does this to you again. Do you understand what I'm saying?”
“Duh! Of course I understand, I already told you. I am not stupid. I told you that, too. Now what did you ask? Oh, yeah, the next time Uncle Alex hit me was at our old house. They were there for Christmas. I can't remember what I was doing. I think I was using the bathroom. Yeah, that's right. I was in the bathroom . . . taking a shower. Uncle Alex came in and . . . uh, he peeked at me. I told him to get out. He laughed. I think I called him a bad word. Asshole, or maybe it was dickhead. I don't remember, but he took off his belt, yanked me out of the shower, and slapped me real hard on my butt. My skin was still wet, so it really stung.”
“And you didn't tell your parents about this either?” Wykowski questioned.
“No! How many times do I have to tell you?
Uncle Alex was going to kill my dad, I couldn't tell!”
“I'm sorry, Sara. I know this is extremely hard on you. You're doing a great job. Now if you want, we can take a break.”
The tape stopped. The lights in the courtroom brightened. Kate looked at the jurors. Their expressions were blank. Poker-faced, each and every one of them
.
Judge Stowers announced, “We're going to recess for the rest of the day. Tomorrow the cameras will be dark and the media will not be allowed back in the courtroom until the jury has viewed all of the child's testimony. I would like to remind the jurors that you are not to speak to the media, read a newspaper, watch television, or talk about this case to anyone. Friends, family, anyone at all. Court is adjourned until nine
A.M.
tomorrow.”
The gavel sounded once again. The jurors were allowed to leave first. A deputy escorted them to a bus, where they were transported to a private parking garage that housed their personal vehicles. Judge Stowers took no chances.
Kate and Alex waited until James said the coast was clear before exiting the courtroom. Apparently Debbie was holding court with the media. She would suck up every minute of publicity; Kate knew her well. This wasn't just about Sara, this was about poor Debbie. Kate couldn't stand the sight of her.
Once inside James's car, Kate breathed a pent-up sigh of relief. It was exhausting sitting in the courtroom listening to her husband's life being torn apart by a twelve-year-old.
Thirteen
, Kate thought.
Sara had a birthday recently
.
“I want you both to go home, get a good night's rest. I'll pick you up around seven. That too early?”
“I doubt either of us will get any sleep. Seven is fine,” Alex said.
Kate heard the worry in his voice, the fatigue. She knew he was trying to hold it all together. For her. Hell, she was doing the same. They both needed a good scream, something to punch or kick, anything to relieve the bottled-up emotions gripping them. Kate didn't even want to think of their future, at least not beyond tomorrow.
One day at a time.
Just like an alcoholic.
Chapter 17
“Y
ou shouldn't watch this stuff. James asked us not to,” Kate called out. She was making tea for herself and coffee for Alex. He was in the great room watching Court TV. She brought their drinks in and placed them on the sofa table.
The reporter, an older woman with frizzy red hair and big, chunky jewelry, was interviewing the parking lot attendant from the private garage where the jurors parked their vehicles. So much for secrecy.
“This is ridiculous. What in the hell does he know about your case?”
“He knows the year, make, and model of the jurors' vehicles. At this point, I'm glad this is all they have to report. Once word of Sara's testimony is out, the Rocket name will make headlines all over the damn country. This just sickens me, Kate. What in the hell is this world coming to when children can tell such monstrous lies and get away with it! Goddamn that child!” Alex took one of the throw pillows from the sofa, tossing it across the room. “I would like to get my hands on Don Winter. I'd choke the life out of the son of a bitch. Then they'd have a real reason to send me to prison.”
Kate stood by silently, allowing Alex to release his anger. He'd needed to do it for days now. He took the remote control, hit the Off button, then tossed the device across the room so hard that it shattered. Kate would replace it.
“Where's all that wine you've been trying to get me to drink? I think I could use a glass right about now.”
“I've got something stronger, if you prefer.”
“I'll take whatever you have. God, Kate, I don't know why this is happening to us! What did we do to deserve this? Was I mean to Sara? Didn't we always get her the best of anything she asked for? I never scrimped when she asked for those outlandish Christmas presents. Hell, I liked spoiling her and Em. I wanted to buy them more. I wanted to give them each a pup. I wanted . . . Oh hell, I don't know what I wanted.” Alex slumped forward, his head in his hands. His shoulders heaved. Kate watched her husband sob. In thirteen years of marriage she'd never seen him cry. Her heart ached at the sight. Knowing Alex wouldn't want her to see him like this, she busied herself in the kitchen, searching through strangers' cabinets for what, she hadn't a clue. Rocks glasses. She was looking for rocks glasses so she could pour Alex a shot of whiskey. She found the glasses and whiskey. Her hands shook like dry leaves as she poured the amber liquid. She took a big slurp, then another. She coughed till her eyes watered. She took another drink. Maybe she'd just get damn good and drunk. She would. They both would.
“Alex,” she called, giving him a minute to pull himself back together.
He shouted back with forced cheerfulness, “Bring that drink, woman! I'm dying of thirst!”
“Well, so am I! I say we both get roaring drunk, have wild sex, and forget the world!” The falseness rang in her ears.
“I'm willing to do whatever it takes to forget the world. Now, where's that booze?”
Kate poured them each a full glass of whiskey.
“Let's make a toast,” Alex bellowed.
Kate held her glass high in the air, the liquid sloshing over the rim onto the white carpet. She'd pay to have the house remodeled if that's what it took. Alex was happy right then, and she didn't care how many messes he made.
“To . . . to Gertie! The best damn dog sitter in the word!”
Kate clinked her glass to Alex's. “To Gertie!”
They finished, and Kate poured another round.
“Let's toast . . . hell, let's toast Gertie's friends for letting us trash their beautiful home!” Alex was laughing, but it wasn't his real laugh. It was the laughter of a man who was at the end of his rope. A maniacal laugh.
“To Gertie's friends!” Kate shouted, and finished her drink. Her head was fuzzy, her words beginning to slur. She'd had more to drink than Alex, but by God she was going to match him drink for drink. If this took his mind away from the tragedy that their life had become, then Kate would drink till the sun came up.
Another bottle of whiskey later, Kate was passed out on the sofa, with Alex lying across the sofa table.
Six in the morning came bright and early. Kate woke with a neck so stiff, she could swear she'd spent the night in a vise. Alex wasn't willing to move. He swore his skull had been crushed.
Though they'd both had too much to drink and were suffering hangovers from hell, they'd needed the respite. Now what they needed was coffee. And aspirin. And hot showers.
“I'll make ya a bet,” Alex mumbled.
“Yeah? What?” Kate whispered. She was certain her head was surely about to explode.
“If you can make us a pot of coffee, I'll turn the shower on.”
Kate smiled. “Ouch! That hurt.”
“What?”
“Everything. Okay. You do the shower. I'll do the coffee.”
Alex continued to lie across the sofa table.
“Go, before I knock you over.”
“You're not big enough!” Alex teased.
“Wanna bet?”
“No, I am not a betting man. Or a drinking man. Oh, hell. Why'd you have to turn the lights on?”
“So I could see to make the coffee, smart-ass. Now get to the shower. I'll join you in a few minutes.”
“Okay, but I don't think I'm up for . . . for getting it up. Too smashed last night.”
“That makes two of us. Now get!”
Kate forced her way into the kitchen. Each step felt like a trombone was playing in her head. She poured water into the coffeemaker, scooped in the coffee, and pushed the Start button. She waited for the coffee to perk, then stuck her cup below the drip so she could have the first cup. She hated coffee. How people drank the stuff, she hadn't a clue. But it was the one thing that could reduce the pounding in her brain to that of a soft flute. And aspirin. She couldn't forget that. She sipped her coffee, then poured Alex a cup. She went to the bathroom, where Alex was lying on the floor in the shower. The water sprayed across his nude body. Thoughts of that wild sex they'd never managed to have last night came to mind. No, she couldn't subject her body to the movement required just yet.
“Coffee's on. Get up and sip this.”
Kate placed the cup inside the shower. She giggled. “Drink up, before it's cold and full of soap.”
Alex gave a halfhearted salute before standing. He took the cup with him. Kate placed her cup next to the sink, then stood in the huge shower with Alex. “This is kinda nice, all these showerheads spewing from every direction. We should do this to our shower when we go home.”
Alex slurped down his coffee, then before she knew what was happening, he turned the water temperature to cold. Icy cold.
“Alex Rocket, you . . . you asshole.” Kate jumped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her.
Alex doubled over with laughter.
Kate beamed. It was good to hear Alex's laughter, because this time it was genuine.
“You'd better hurry and get dressed before I ravage you.”
“I kinda like the idea of being ravaged. I'm in no hurry at all, Mr. Rocket.” Kate dropped the towel on the floor and stepped into Alex's open arms.
Later, after a second shower and a fresh pot of coffee, Alex got all serious. Kate liked the playful mood so much better. But she knew reality was looming on the horizon. James was scheduled to pick them up at seven.
“Kate, I want you to listen to what I have to say. This might be the last chance I'll get to tell you.”
“Alex! After what we just did, you sound like a preacher man.” Kate had hoped to lighten the atmosphere once again, but knew it was silly of her. “What do you want to tell me?”
“If things don't go as planned, I want you to know that you'll always be taken care of. I told you about my backup plan, to put everything in Gertie's name. Well, I did it before the trial started. If the Winters decide to file a civil suit, which James has assured me they will, I don't want them to get their filthy hands on anything I've worked for. This way no matter what, you'll be taken care of. You won't have to work at Chloe's, you won't have to sell your artwork. You can travel the world. Gertie's promised to stay and work at the kennel for as long as you need her. Hell, you couldn't drag her away from those dogs. Kate, are you listening?”
“I am. But, Alex, you're acting as though you've been given a death sentence. James will see to it that you're found innocent. He knows what he's doing. I just hate to hear this, though I understand why you felt you had to go to such extremes. So, it's all legal?”
“Legal and binding. When this blows over, I think I'll leave things in Gertie's name a while longer. Debbie will do anything to get her grubby hands on the almighty dollar.”
“Alex, do you think she put Sara up to this in hopes of... getting rich from a lawsuit?”
Alex took another sip of coffee. “Anything is possible, but I doubt even she'd stoop that low. I don't think a civil suit was her intention, but you can bet your sweet ass some ambulance-chasing attorney has put the idea in her head by now.”
The doorbell terminated further conversation.
“Finish your coffee, I'll get it.” Kate went to the front door. “Morning, James. You're just in time for breakfast. I was about to toast bagels.”
“Sounds good, thanks.”
Kate engrossed herself in the simple task of toasting bagels and spreading cream cheese on them. She filled three glasses with orange juice. “This is it, guys. If I were in my own kitchen, we'd have something a bit more substantial.”
“This is fine. It's more than I'd make for myself at the hotel.”
They ate in silence. James towered over the small table when he stood. “Hate to break up the party, but if we want to avoid the press, we'd best get an early start.”
Kate turned off the coffeemaker and put the cups and plates in a sink filled with hot, soapy dishwater. Then she smeared some lotion on her hands and grabbed her purse. “I'm ready.”
They made the trip to the courthouse in silence. Kate prayed for Alex, for James, and, though she would never admit it to anyone, she said a prayer for Sara. Maybe the child would stop this nonsense and tell the truth.
The media was in full throttle. James had to circle the courthouse three times before he found a parking spot that wasn't homesteaded by some form of the media. They slipped inside the courthouse without being discovered. Kate guessed her prayers were being answered. The small ones first.
Alex and James went inside the courtroom ahead of Kate. She lingered at the entrance. A thought had occurred to her on the ride over. She figured it was worth chancing. Right when she was about to give up and go to her seat inside the courtroom, Kate spotted Debbie. Members of the press escorted her up the hallway toward Judge Stowers's courtroom.
When Debbie saw her waiting at the entrance, she stopped. With the media at her heels, Kate knew this wasn't the time to approach Debbie. She walked to her seat and sat down. The room was filling up quickly. The press area was jammed full. The low murmur of voices radiated throughout. Kate tried to make out some of the words, but couldn't. All was quiet as Judge Stowers entered her domain.
The bailiff called his usual, “All rise.”
“You may be seated.”
The rustling of clothes, briefcases being closed, and the mechanical hum of cameras being turned off filled the room.
Day two of their nightmare had begun.
 
 
Again the media were asked to leave the courtroom, and the lights were lowered. For the second day, Sara told her story to the prosecutor.
“Do you recall when Mr. Rocket touched you again?” Wykowski quizzed.
“Yep, I sure do. It was on Easter break. Me and Emily were in North Carolina again. Mommy was on a cruise. Daddy didn't go that time. I remember because he accused her of slutting around, and she got all mad. She didn't even come with Daddy to pick us up.”
“Sara, just answer Mr. Wykowski's questions!”
“Go on, Sara, tell me what happened that
Easter.”
“Okay. We were having an Easter egg hunt.
There were some other kids there. Friends of Aunt Kate's. I was running around looking for eggs. I saw Uncle Alex; he was standing behind a tree. I thought he was playing a game or something, so I went over and asked him what he was doing. He grabbed my arm really hard. Then he unzipped his pants. He pulled it out, then put my hand there. It was so gross!”
The screen became all fuzzy. A few seconds passed, then Sara's image filled the screen.

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