The Code of the Hills (10 page)

The judge said, “Ms. Arnold—­” but she continued.

“The witness has testified that she understands the oath.”

“Sit down, Ms. Arnold.” Reluctantly, Elsie obeyed, but her heart was beating so hard that she could almost see it pounding through the fabric of her jacket. She could feel the control over her case slipping away; Nixon was setting her witness up. I gotta stop him, she thought, growing frantic, though she struggled to remain outwardly composed.

To Charlene, the judge said, “Answer the question, Miss Taney.”

Charlene fixed a brazen glare at Nixon. “Never.”

“Never what?”

“Ain't never told a lie.”

Nixon smiled. “Well, that's surprising. Amazing. Not even a little white lie.”

“Nope.”

“What about at school?”

Charlene's face hardened. She didn't reply.

Nervously, Elsie twisted her pen.
He's got something, but I can'
t fight it until I know what it is.

Nixon persisted. “Didn't you get in trouble at school for lying?”

The girl's shoulders clenched and she stared at the carpet.

“Didn't you accuse someone of touching you? Isn't that right?”

Shit, shit, shit, Elsie thought, her stomach sinking.

When Charlene didn't respond, Nixon moved in closer and raised the volume of his voice. “Didn't you accuse boys of touching you? And it was all made up, a lie? What about telling the truth that time?”

Charlene jumped from her chair so suddenly that it took Elsie a moment to react. The girl vaulted over the witness stand and was out of the courtroom like a shot.

Elsie followed, chasing her through the courthouse hallway, shouting, “Charlene, stop! Come back!”

A highway patrolman who was standing nearby reached out and grabbed Charlene by the arm as she flew past him. As he restrained the girl, she fought him blindly like a cornered animal. Elsie caught up to them and reached out to Charlene, but the girl slapped her hand away.

“Charlene, settle down. You can't run off like this.”

“He called me a liar.”

Though Elsie was nearly panting from agitation, she kept her voice calm.

“Sweetheart, it's all right; just come back and explain to the judge that you understand the oath, and you're telling the truth in court.”

“Can't. They say I'm a liar.”

“Charlene, everyone, everybody on earth, has told a lie sometime; that's like a trick question, the lawyer was trying to trip you up.”

Charlene quit struggling, and Elsie took her by the hand. To the trooper, she said, “Thanks, Sergeant Crocker, I've got it from here.” As the patrolman walked off, she put an arm around Charlene and spoke earnestly.

“Charlene, come on back and testify, just like we practiced. This is so important; we've got to get back in there and get the job done.”

“I ain't never going back in there.”

“Come on, Charlene, please.” Elsie gave her arm a tug, but Charlene snatched it away.

“I said I ain't going back, and I'm not gonna. And that is the
truth
.” She spat the final word.

“Charlene!”

They both froze. Donita walked toward them and Charlene turned to face her mother. They were the same height, and stood nose-­to-­nose.

Donita raised her hand, and with it she grasped the nape of Charlene's neck and pushed the girl to the side of the hallway. Elsie didn't follow. She watched as Donita spoke fiercely into the girl's ear. Charlene's head bowed, and after a time she nodded.

Donita gave her a shove in Elsie's direction. “You go do as you're told.”

Charlene shot a resentful look at Elsie. Sullen, she turned and walked back to the courtroom.

Elsie followed, eyes on the back of the girl's head. Is this it? She wondered. Have I lost it already?

Looking into the courtroom through the glass door, she saw Taney twist in his seat to stare down Charlene as the girl returned to the courtroom.

Elsie's bulldog instinct came to her in a rush; her chin jerked up and she regarded the defendant through narrowed eyes. She strode back to court with a determined step.

Chapter Eleven

E
LSIE CAUGHT UP
to Charlene and tried to put a supportive arm around her shoulders as they walked through the courtroom, but the girl shook her off and raced back to the witness stand so quickly that it looked like she was eager to return. Striding up to the bench, Elsie poised herself to make things right with Judge Carter, expecting him to be unhappy with her.

“Your honor, I apologize for the delay—­” she began, but he cut her off.

“No need,” he said with a wave. “These cases are highly charged. Miss Taney,” and with a benevolent nod at Charlene added, “I'll take over the inquiry regarding the oath.” Then he said to the girl, “Do you understand—­”

Nixon, who had been reclining in his seat at the counsel table, leapt from his chair.

“Your honor, I'd appreciate it if you'd let me continue with the examination.”

“I'd appreciate it if you'd sit back down.”

With delight, Elsie noted that the judge now withheld eye contact from the defense. So the worm has turned, she thought.
Yee haw.
Her earlier suspicions were confirmed; Judge Carter was on her side. Feeling a lightness in her chest, she stifled the urge to smile. When the judge stepped in to tie the defense attorney's hands, it made for a much fairer fight between a grown attorney and a slip of a girl.

Judge Carter turned back to Charlene. With a diffident expression, he asked whether she understood the import of the oath to tell the truth. Squaring her jaw, the girl said she did.

“Raise your hand,” he instructed, and she swore to tell the truth.

The judge looked at Elsie and said, “The state may proceed.”

She walked up to the witness stand, feeling guardedly confident. “Let's start again, Charlene. Please state your full name.”

Charlene proceeded through the direct examination, laying out the facts of the offenses she'd described to Elsie and Ashlock at the Taneys' apartment the day before, and providing all the facts necessary to support the elements of counts one through four of the felony complaint against Kris Taney.

When Elsie was done, Nixon launched into his cross, but the judge held him back from battering the witness or opening matters outside of the scope of direct examination. She marveled at the change in Judge Carter's demeanor; whether it was the product of his personal sympathies or the presence of the local media, she didn't care. She was just happy to be the fair-­haired child in his courtroom when she really needed it.

Nixon finally concluded. The judge asked Elsie, “Will you be calling any more witnesses today?”

“No, your honor,” she answered. She had no intention of putting Donita Taney on the stand that day. As a witness, Donita needed a lot of work, and she didn't want to give the defense a crack at her yet.

Smiling sympathetically at Charlene, the judge told the girl she could step down. When he announced his finding, Elsie kept a straight face, but inside she was jubilant, setting off Roman candles. She recorded the judge's words in the prosecutor's file:

Defendant Taney appears in court with attorney Josh Nixon.
Preliminary hearing held.
Court finds probable cause.
Defendant bound over to Circuit Court for arraignment.

“Court is adjourned,” the judge said.

When she turned around to catch Tina Peroni's eye, she saw Madeleine peering through the door into the courtroom. Elsie bristled; if she dared to barge in and take the credit for the hearing, there would be a bloodletting. When Madeleine saw Elsie looking in her direction, she disappeared.

You'd better run, she thought. I've got a score to settle with you, bitch.

She was distracted from her irritation by Josh Nixon. He walked over the prosecution table and said, “I'm going to subpoena that girl's permanent record from her school. I'll destroy her.”

Blood flooded Elsie's face. “You won't get it. I'll fight it. And you won't ‘destroy' her, anyhow. Hard to shake a story like this one.”

“We'll have an evidentiary hearing downstairs. About her behavior at school.”

“Not relevant,” she snapped. She had to protect Charlene; four of the five criminal counts depended on the girl.

“Wait till we get those records.”

“FERPA. Ever hear of that statute? She's got privacy rights.”

“Well, my client has rights. Parental rights. And right to confrontation. Sixth Amendment rights.”

Elsie wanted to punch Nixon. “Well, I guess we'll just see about that.”

“I guess we will.”

She tried to think of another retort, but Tina tugged at her sleeve.

“Can I take the girls downstairs?” she asked.

“Sure. I'll walk you out.”

The cameras were rolling as she exited the courtroom flanked by Taney's daughters. She pretended not to notice the press.
Don't
look into the camera
, she reminded herself. As she guided the girls toward the stairway, a nice-­looking male television reporter wearing an alarming amount of orange pancake makeup stuck a microphone in her face and said, “Can you tell us what additional evidence you'll have at trial?”

“I can't comment on a pending prosecution, sorry,” Elsie said with what she hoped was a dazzling smile.

“Are you aware that Taney is calling in a parents' rights group to come to his aid?”

She was stunned for a second; she was not aware of that. What group would want to be associated with a dirt bag like Kris Taney? She repeated automatically, “Can't comment, like I said. Sorry.”

The reporter turned on his heel when he saw the defendant leaving the courtroom. Taney had extra security today, and his attorney was sticking close by him; Elsie figured Nixon was glad to have the photo op. Kris Taney looked positively explosive.

“Mr. Taney,” said the reporter, “do you deny the allegations?”

Josh Nixon fielded the question. “My client will enter a plea of Not Guilty to all counts at his arraignment on Friday.”

The reporter pulled the mic back to follow up. “What is the basis of the defense you'll be presenting?”

As she descended the stairs, Elsie heard Nixon declare that the charges had been falsely made by Taney's daughters at the urging of their mother, due to a marital dispute. Right, Nixon; that's what they all say, she thought scornfully.

“We'll establish that the testimony of Charlene Taney, in particular, is totally untrustworthy,” Nixon said. “I'm also happy to announce that my client has the backing of Our Earthly Fathers, a support group for men going through the ups and downs of marital dissolution proceedings.”

Nixon was clearly warming up in the limelight. “This isn't a novel situation, really. Bitter ­people in a broken marriage use the children to hurt each other. What's frightening is when you see the Prosecutor's Office sucked into the game. It looks like Ms. Arnold is siding with the women's accusations as some kind of knee-­jerk feminist response.” Nixon gestured dramatically, pointing directly at Elsie on the staircase.

Her jaw dropped as she heard Nixon's statement to the reporter. Her blood was still up from the hearing, as well as their fight over Charlene. She stopped and spun around on the stairs.
How dare he trash me in front of the cameras?
“Tina,” she said, “please take the girls on downstairs.”

As she bounded back up the stairs, “Hey, Nixon,” she said through the railings, “good thing you're a criminal lawyer. Your grasp of family law ain't so hot.”

Nixon gaped at her. “The prosecution cannot comment.”

But Elsie was mad, and she didn't stop. “Since when do ‘parental rights' include rape and abuse?”

Nixon barked, “My client denies those charges. Arnold, you are out of line. You are violating your ethical duty.”

Kris Taney weighed in, his face scarlet: “Hey, bitch—­you got the wrong guy.”

Nixon turned to his client, ordering him to shut up, but Taney didn't follow his advice. He stood unmoving in ankle cuffs and handcuffs, demanding, “What about her? She don't know when to shut up.”

Turning on Elsie with a snarl, he added, “Somebody ought to shut your mouth.” He spat at her, the spittle spattering the shoulder of her jacket. His eyes wild, he roared, “Why ain't you talked to my brother? Him and Donita is the ones what ought to be locked up. Ain't you figured out that they're just trying to get me out of the way?”

The bailiff interrupted the altercation. “Get this man back to the jail. Get a move on, Taney.”

The deputies attempted to pull him in the direction of the jail, but Taney refused to go voluntarily and had to be dragged. The bailiff and deputies pulled the big man down the hall as he bellowed insults against them, Elsie, and the accusation. She stood frozen while the cameras rolled. The lawmen, with much effort, managed to maneuver the struggling man into the hallway leading to the jail, and his shouts became fainter.

Staring after him, Elsie began to shake. In four years as a prosecutor she had been shouted down, cursed, and insulted. Being spit upon, though, was an entirely new experience. A filthy assault. Demeaning. She felt utterly humiliated. She struggled to snap out of it but heat pricked her nose and she knew she was in danger of crying right in the middle of the courthouse.

Wheeling around, she wanted to flee, but was surrounded by strangers, reporters, and onlookers, regarding her curiously. And the camera was trained on her face.
Act like you're okay.
Pretend it doesn't matter
, she told herself.

The hallway now quiet, the reporter with the orange face strolled up and stuck the microphone in her face.

“Ms. Arnold, do you have a reaction to the altercation that took place here?”

Elsie just shook her head, blinking rapidly to keep the tears back. For once, she had nothing to say.