Death of the Family Recipe (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 3) (40 page)

BOOK: Death of the Family Recipe (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 3)
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Hyden nodded. "Yes, it’s the kit I found in her drawer."

 

"Was the kit intact when you found it?"

 

"Yes, it was."

 

Landry turned toward the jury and smiled. "Why did an unused early pregnancy test make you believe you were the father of Tina’s child?"

 

Hyden smiled softly. "Because she wouldn’t have bought it if she didn’t think she was pregnant, would she? While she was with me?"

 

The courtroom exploded in gasps and chatter — the judge gaveled the crowd into silence, threatening to clear the room and pull the plug on the cameras if the spectators didn’t refrain from outbursts.

 

Pembroke smiled at Hyden and said, "Thank you, Mr. Hyden." To the judge she said, "No further questions, Your Honor."

 

The judge looked at Dan and said, "Your witness, Mr. Parker."

 

Dan smiled warmly at Hyden and approached. "You okay, Mr. Hyden? Need a moment to collect yourself?"

 

Hyden shook his head. "No, I’m fine."

 

Dan nodded and stepped back to the defense table. He consulted notes on a legal pad then said, "So Ms. Devereaux never confirmed your suspicions of abuse?"

 

"She never came out and said the word, no."

 

"So, you were just guessing?"

 

Hyden smirked. "I wasn’t guessing about the bruises and scars on her body."

 

Dan nodded and smiled. "I don’t imagine you were, Mr. Hyden. Were you aware of a car accident Ms. Devereaux had when she was in college?"

 

Hyden frowned. "No."

 

Dan produced documentation and provided copies to the judge and the prosecution. "According to Ms. Devereaux’s medical records, she suffered many injuries. Among them a condition called vertigo. Are you familiar with the effect vertigo has on a person, Mr. Hyden? It causes loss of balance, dizziness, lightheadedness and so forth." He looked at Hyden smugly. "Did you ever witness Ms. Devereaux having dizzy spells?"

 

Hyden frowned. "Occasionally, she became light-headed."

 

Dan nodded. "Uh-huh. She ever stumble or fall during any of this light-headedness?"

 

Hyden sighed. "Sometimes."

 

Dan turned toward the jury and smiled. "Isn’t it true that you begged Ms. Devereaux to stay with you? And weren’t you beside yourself with jealousy when she went back to Spencer Atkinson?"

 

Hyden pursed his lips. "Yes, I asked her to stay with me. But I didn’t stop her."

 

Dan turned back to Hyden and cocked his head. "Ain’t that a little curious? I mean, you believed she was being abused, yet you didn’t stop her?"

 

Hyden smirked although he was obviously rattled. "Do you mean did I try to hold her against her will?"

 

Without missing a beat Dan looked to the judge. "Your Honor, could we have the witness answer the question he was asked, rather than asking counsel questions of his own?"

 

Hyden sighed. "No, I couldn’t stop her."

 

Dan nodded. "Thank you. Now here’s the other point that befuddles me. If you believed Mr. Atkinson had abused Ms. Devereaux, and subsequently she was killed, why didn’t you come forward when Mr. Atkinson was charged with the crime?"

 

Hyden shrugged. "I don’t know."

 

Dan furrowed his brow. "You don’t know? All righty. Then why did you decline to cooperate with the prosecution when they approached you to testify?"

 

Landry jumped to her feet. "Objection Your Honor, asked and answered."

 

"Sustained."

 

But Hyden didn’t care about the objection. His face reddened and he clutched the arms of his chair. "Maybe because I didn’t want a rich defense attorney to make me look like a liar. You’re right, I can’t prove that Spencer abused her. And it’s too late to save Tina, but I can still save my daughter."

 

The courtroom erupted once again. The judge ordered silence. Dan objected to Hyden’s response and demanded it be stricken from the record. Pembroke argued that the defendant had only answered the question put to him. The judge ordered the jury to be taken out of the courtroom and afterwards, admonished both sides for courtroom shenanigans. Spectators, including reporters were removed from the courtroom. And after another very serious caution from the judge, the jurors were brought back into the room.

 

Dan stood dead center in the court room and said, "You all right, Mr. Hyden. You need a moment? Another glass of water?"

 

Hyden shook his head. "No."

 

Dan nodded. "Mr. Hyden isn’t it true that you were still in love with Ms. Devereaux and that you were jealous that she chose Mr. Atkinson over you?"

 

Hyden nodded. "Yes, I still loved her. And no, I didn’t want her to go back to Spencer."

 

Dan’s shark fin started to show. "Enraged that your child would be raised by another man?"

 

"I didn’t know it was my child then."

 

Dan cocked his head. "So the woman you loved and who was carrying your child, left you for another man and you did nothing about it? Until now?

 

Pembroke jumped to her feet. "Objection."

 

Dan smirked. "Withdrawn. Nothing further."

 

The judge raised an eyebrow at Pembroke. "Redirect?"

 

Pembroke nodded, crossed to the witness stand and said, "Mr. Hyden, when did you contact us about the early pregnancy kit?"

 

"The first day that Spencer testified. Afterward, when I looked in the drawer."

 

"And what happened after that?"

 

"You came to my home."

 

"Did anyone come to your home with me?"

 

"Yes, crime scene technicians."

 

"And why did I bring crime scene technicians with me?"

 

"To document the evidence and take it for testing."

 

Pembroke’s paralegal handed her a document. "And are you aware of the results of the tests done on the pregnancy kit?"

 

"Yes, you found Tina’s fingerprints and mine on the box."

 

Pembroke provided copies of the test results to the defense and the court. "Test results, Your Honor." She turned back to Hyden. "And what other tests did we perform, Mr. Hyden?"

 

Hyden’s eyes filled with tears. "A paternity test."

 

Pembroke produced another document. "And the results of these tests showed you were the father of Tina Devereaux’s baby?"

 

Hyden broke down and sobbed. "Yes."

 

The courtroom erupted again, and the judge was done. "Turn off the cameras! Now!"

 

The camera feed to the courtroom was cut, and after a moment of blackness, a reporter standing outside the courthouse appeared on screen. Wide-eyed and giddy she prattled about exciting new developments in the case, and I switched off the TV. I didn’t need a reporter to tell me the impact of Hyden’s testimony — all I needed to do was check the tipster website.

Chapter Fifty-Three

 

The website thrummed with activity — most of it against Atkinson. I won’t deny that seeing the response put a shit-eating grin on my face or that I hoped the jury felt the same way the posters on the forums felt. I checked the tipster email account and found thousands of emails awaited me. Strange that no one had monitored the account since I quit the case. I scanned a few of the emails, but the consensus was that Atkinson was a liar and deserved to be somebody’s prison bitch. I was tempted to delete them, but since I no longer worked for the defense, it wasn’t my place. I logged off, relieved Spencer Atkinson wasn’t my problem anymore.

 

I went into the kitchen to bake but stared out the window instead. The heavy winter rains had forced the daffodils and crocus I’d planted in the backyard, and bursts of yellow and purple lined the walkway. Their happy flower faces looking up to the sun stirred my need to start growing things again — aside from human beings. I imagined how thrilled Ted would be to learn he was missing the game that weekend so he could make a garden with me. But hey, that’s marriage right?

 

Happy at the prospect of digging in dirt and growing things, I pulled out my baking gear. My hands were so swollen, I took off my rings and threaded them through the chain of my locket. Realizing yet another thing wouldn't fit until after the babies were born.

 

Soon the house filled with the scent of fresh baked cookies, and I hummed to myself and the babies. The warmth from the ovens and the baking smells wrapped me in my comfort zone. A place where men didn’t kill their wives and children, and ex girlfriends didn’t stalk. And friends didn’t throw you under the bus for fame and fortune.

 

By mid-afternoon I had twenty-five dozen cookies made. Most were for the food truck, but I held out a couple dozen for Ted and put them on a platter so he’d see them when he got home. The doorbell rang and Boomer ran into the kitchen to let me know. I frowned at him. "Yes, I heard the bell too." Boomer led the way as I waddled behind him. The doorbell rang again. "Coming." When I peeked through the side window, I saw Jennifer standing on the porch. She sketched a shy wave. "I’ll be damned." I opened the door. "Hello."

 

Jennifer was quite lovely when she smiled. Her dark hair and eyes shone like polished ebony in the afternoon sun. "Hello Scotti." Her eyes drifted to my bloated belly. "How are you?"

 

I didn’t know what to think — I hadn’t seen her for almost three months. "I’m surprised to see you."

 

Her smile dimmed. "I wondered if we might talk?" She held up her hand. "I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come around. But you have been on my mind." She pleaded with hopeful eyes. "May I come in?"

 

I let her in, and we settled in the living room. Jennifer perched on a club chair, crossing her legs at the ankles, and holding her handbag in her lap. The red sweater she wore over the navy blouse and trousers gave her an energetic and youthful look. I wondered how Rose would look now, perched on a club chair in my living room. Looking at Jennifer in the clear daylight I saw parts of myself — the bend of her arm, the petite frame, the same hands. It was comforting but strange too. Anxious to make her acquaintance, Boomer sniffed Jennifer’s ankles. "Boomer, no." He whimpered. I shook my head and pointed to the kitchen. He yapped once and skittered off to his bed.

 

Not knowing what else to do, I made a pot of tea and plated some cookies and brought a tray back to the living room. Jennifer bit into an oatmeal raisin cookie and got dreamy-faced. "Oh my, these are delicious. Just like your Christmas cookies — I’ll tell you, those didn’t last long." Her eyes clouded and looked down at her designer loafers. "As good as Rose’s. You have her touch."

 

I nodded. "There was a recipe book with the things that Jason brought me. Rose and I seem to have the same cooking philosophy." We sipped our tea and avoided looking at each other. And after a few minutes I said, "What’s on your mind, Jennifer?"

 

She put her cookie on the plate, wiped her hands on a napkin and smiled weakly. "You get right to the point, don’t you?" She fluttered a hand. "I wanted to apologize for being so unreceptive to you. My only excuse is that you took me by surprise." She cocked her head. "Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I’d ever see you." She studied me. "You’re so much like her. Your voice, your hair, the little things you do with your hands — just like Rose."

 

I fell back against the cushions and turned away — hearing how I was like Rose made me sad. "Thank you for telling me that."

 

"It may be too little too late, but I’ll tell you whatever you want to know."

 

I turned to her. "Really? Anything?"

 

She smoothed her trousers and sat up straight. "Anything I know."

 

I hesitated — I’d walked down this path before. Everyone is willing to tell you what you want to know until you ask them a question they don’t want to answer. "Why did you leave Rose alone that night? The night I was taken?"

 

Jennifer’s happy mask cracked for a second then reconstructed. "I went to a movie, with Rose’s friend, Kathy."

 

I nodded. "I didn’t ask you where you went, I asked why? She’d just had a baby and was still grieving over Rory. How could you leave her alone in that condition?"

 

Jennifer sputtered. "We begged Rose to come with us, but she refused." She waved her hands as if it would chase away unpleasant memories. "Rose was in a bad way. Rory was gone, the delivery was very difficult, and she couldn’t see beyond those four walls."

 

I sighed impatiently. "That’s exactly my point."

 

Jennifer shook her head. "No, you don’t understand. We were trying to coax her into joining the living again. Trying to pull her out into the sun, but she simply refused. She couldn’t bear to leave you with anyone — not even our neighbor who had four children of her own. Even when I held you, she hovered and trembled until you were back in her arms again."

 

I smirked. "I was only a few days old. What mother wants to go out after just having a baby?"

 

Jennifer sucked in her lips and nodded. "Yes, you’re right. But Rose had barely left the house for months. We worried she’d bury herself and you in there forever." Her gaze flitted as though she’d find an explanation in the carpet or the windows. "It was stultifying. Oppressive. She kept the curtains drawn and sat in that room. Day in and day out."

 

My voice pitched high. "So leaving her alone in that condition was a good idea? Or did you and Kathy need a break? Rose bumming you out too much?"

 

Jennifer put her hand to her heart. "It wasn’t like that at all." She sighed. "We were all so young. We should’ve been out having fun, dating, going to the movies, like young girls do. But this terrible, terrible thing happened. My sister lost the man she loved and couldn’t overcome it. She clung to you because that was all she had left of Rory. In her world, nothing else was real." She shook her head. "If you believe I don’t regret what we did, then you’re mistaken. I regret it every day." Jennifer implored me with her eyes. "But at the time, it seemed harmless. We were only going to a movie. Never could we imagine that something so awful would happen."

BOOK: Death of the Family Recipe (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 3)
7.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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