The Code of the Hills (32 page)

“But judge—­”

“Proceed.”

She felt herself blushing. “Kristy, can you describe any physical relations between your father and your sister Charlene—­”

“Judge, I object! She's disregarding the court's ruling.”

“Miss Arnold?”

Elsie shot the defense a look. “No further questions.”

She returned to the counsel table and perched on the edge of her chair, apprehensive about the damage that might be done in cross-­ex. To her surprise, Nixon's examination was brief and quite pleasant. He did not harangue the witness; he spoke to Kristy respectfully. The questions were so nonconfrontational that she was almost caught off guard when he asked, “Who sleeps in your mother's bedroom now that your dad is gone?”

“Objection, irrelevant,” Elsie spat, just in time to cut off the child's answer.

“Sustained,” the judge said, and she exhaled a relieved breath.

Nixon smiled at Kristy. “No further questions.”

“May this witness be released from her subpoena?” the judge inquired.

“No, your honor,” Nixon said. “I may need to inquire further, later on.”

Elsie saw Nixon and Taney exchange a look before Taney turned his head away, covering his mouth with his hand. Elsie was dumbfounded; it looked like Taney was grinning.

Chapter Forty-­Two

A
FTER
K
RISTY STEPPED
down, a juror asked for a bathroom break. Judge Rountree declared a five-­minute recess and left the bench. Elsie readied the direct examination of her next witness, then glanced out the courtroom door at the jurors lined up behind Merle, waiting to be escorted down the hall.

In the hallway, across from the courtroom door, stood Noah. He was holding a bouquet of flowers wrapped in colored tissue paper.

This is insane, she thought. Having him pop up at trial was a nightmare. She needed to be focused, not looking over her shoulder to avoid her volatile ex-­lover. Maybe she could ignore him.

He walked up to the courtroom door but didn't enter. Stationed just outside the door frame, he blocked the doorway, staring at her.

Elsie picked up her pen and tried to write. When her hand began to tremble, she put it down again. As much as she wanted to delay the confrontation, it was inevitable. With a mighty shove, she pushed her chair away from the counsel table and walked directly up to Noah.

“Hey, girl,” he said, beaming, “I've been missing you. I came to wish you luck. Brought you something to brighten up your office.”

She whispered, “You can take those flowers and give them to someone who doesn't mind getting knocked around.” She glanced around the courtroom, not wanting to be overheard. She would not make a scene.

In a level voice, he said, “You know, it takes two to fight. But what happened in the car was totally out of character. That's not really me. I was pushed over my limit.”

So
it was my fault that you hit me?
His implicit accusation stirred a fire in her chest. Still speaking quietly, she said, “Your limit's not my problem. We're through.”

He looked away with a hurt expression.

“It's over.”

His eyes narrowed. “You don't get to say when it's over,” he said.

Elsie watched him storm to the nearest trash can and jam the flowers inside. Without another look, he was gone.

Block it out,
she told herself. She couldn't think about it, not at that moment. Her work here was far more important. Her performance was crucial.
S
he returned to the courtroom and took her seat. As she sat, she smoothed her skirt with her hands, trying to erase every wrinkle in the fabric.

But she was shaken, despite her best efforts to resist it. Don't just sit here, she thought. She had a few minutes left. She should print a copy of the Missouri statute she'd cited earlier, in case the issue arose again.

She headed for her office at a speedy clip. Midway along the rotunda, though, she paused, her hand on the wooden railing. A book would be better. Juries liked to see a law book on the counsel table. It made the attorney appear learned and studious.

Turning, she made a beeline for the old law library in a dim corner of the second floor. It had originally been a resource for judges and local lawyers, though it was rarely used anymore for its original purpose. Missouri statutes and case law and law review articles were available online at the touch of a computer screen and printed in an instant.

But the law books remained, lining the walls of the room in glassed walnut cases: sets of the Southwestern Reporter and Missouri Revised Statutes, along with federal statutes and case law. She pulled the RSMo volume containing the criminal code, and as an afterthought, a random volume of Southwestern 3d, just for show, and hurried back to the counsel table in Judge Rountree's courtroom.

A muted buzz sounded as Merle shepherded the jurors back to the jury box. When everyone was in place, Judge Rountree gave Elsie the sign to begin.

Charlene's preliminary hearing testimony was read into the record. Elsie then called Dr. Petrus to the witness stand. She believed that juries liked to hear from expert witnesses, particularly in cases that involved a swearing match. The witness was a pleasant family practitioner in his mid-­thirties who would make a good impression on the jury.

“Dr. Petrus,” she said, “did you have occasion to perform a physical examination of Kristy Taney in January of this year?”

The doctor said, “I did.”

“Did your physical include a pelvic exam?”

“It did,” he replied with a somber expression.

“What did the exam reveal?”

“Objection: unless the witness can tie the results of his exam to the defendant, then his answer is irrelevant and immaterial,” Nixon said.

“Overruled,” Judge Rountree said shortly. “Answer, Dr. Petrus.”

“The hymen was not intact on Kristy Taney.”

“In your opinion, is that finding consistent with sexual activity?”

“It could be.”

Elsie asked about his examination of Charlene, and the doctor testified that the hymen was not intact on Charlene either.

“Additionally,” he added, “the exam revealed inflammation in the vaginal area.”

“In your opinion, would that be consistent with sexual activity?'

“In my opinion, yes.”

“No further questions.”

She covertly checked out the jury's reaction; she sensed that she was making progress with them. Several jurors were growing markedly sympathetic, providing Elsie with significant eye contact. That was a good sign.

Nixon was battering the doctor with a predictable line of questioning.

“Isn't it possible, Doctor, that a girl's hymen can rupture in any number of ways?”

“It is.”

“Riding a horse? A bicycle?”

“That's true.”

“So you're telling the jury that it's entirely possible that these girls have never had sexual intercourse.”

“That's possible.”

“And even assuming that they have had intercourse, you have no scientific evidence as to who the sex partner might be, isn't that correct?”

“That's true.”

“It could be anyone: a boyfriend, or another male living in the household, isn't that right?”

Elsie jerked into action, objecting that the question called for speculation, but the doctor had already answered the question in the affirmative. The judge told the jury to disregard the answer, but it was cold comfort to Elsie.

Can't unring a bell, she thought.

Nixon asked the witness, “Why didn't you take samples and send them to the crime lab for DNA testing?”

Damn, Elsie thought, She should have cleared that up.

“The father had been in custody for weeks. The samples have to be taken closer in time to the act.”

“But if you'd taken samples, they might have revealed the presence of another partner, correct?”

Elsie shut the question down on grounds of speculation again, but Nixon had planted a seed, and the jury got the message. In redirect, she scored a point or two by asking whether children with no bicycles and no access to horses were likely to lose their virginity through those activities. Still, she worried that her damage control was incomplete. When the doctor was dismissed, a ­couple of jurors exchanged quizzical glances.

Elsie didn't like that. Not a bit.

Chapter Forty-­Three

O
N
T
UESDAY MORNING,
before trial commenced for the day, Elsie sucked down a cup of weak coffee in her office. Donita sat opposite her, hugging her black vinyl handbag and regarding her with a resigned expression.

“It's showtime, Donita,” Elsie said with a counterfeit grin. The women walked to the courtroom side by side.

When court convened, Elsie called Donita Taney to the witness stand. Donita walked in with a hangdog expression, still clutching the black purse. Acts like she's got a stash in there, Elsie thought impatiently, before she restrained her thoughts with a jerk. She extended a welcoming hand to her witness.

“Donita, come on over here and be sworn,” she said in a voice that radiated goodwill.

Donita took the oath and sat in the witness chair. She settled the purse on her lap, then as an afterthought, set it on the floor beside her. She tucked her hands, palms together, between her knees.

Elsie walked over to the jury box to ask the questions so Donita's face would be turned toward the jury.

“Donita, direct your attention to January eighteenth of this year: what happened on that date?”

“That was the day you come to the house to pick up them boxes.”

“What house are you referring to?”

“Our house over on High.”

“What were the boxes?”

“I'd packed up Kris's stuff. To get it out. I didn't want it around no more. And JoLee's stuff she left behind.”

“Who is JoLee?”

“JoLee Stokes. She'd been living with us ever since Kris knocked her up.”

“Objection!” Nixon was on his feet. “Irrelevant. Judge, may we approach?”

Rountree shook his head. “No need. Sustained. Jury will disregard the last statement.”

But checking the jury's reaction with her peripheral vision, Elsie was pleased to see a woman bristle at Donita's revelation.

She then took the valentine from its bag and handed it to the court reporter, instructing her to mark it as an exhibit.

“Donita, I'm handing you what has been marked as State's Exhibit Number One. Could you examine it, please?”

Donita opened the card without expression, looked at it, and handed it back to Elsie.

“What is it?”

“It's a valentine card.”

“Addressed to whom?”

“JoLee.” For the first time, Donita looked directly at the jury box, and as an aside, said to them, “My husband's common law.”

“Objection!”

“Sustained.”

Elsie's mouth twitched but she kept a straight face.

“Donita, did you have the opportunity to examine the handwriting on that card?”

Yeah.”

“Is it familiar?”

“Yep.”

“Whose handwriting is it?”

“Objection: is this witness a handwriting expert?”

The judge peered at Elsie through his glasses. “Qualify the witness, Ms. Arnold.”

“How long have you known the defendant, Kris Taney?”

“Been married fifteen years. Knowed him a while before that.”

“During your marriage and acquaintance, did you have occasion to see his handwriting?”

“Sure. Lots of times.”

“Please read the writing on the card.”

Donita did, reading aloud in a voice that conveyed deep sadness. Elsie thought that her problem witness was performing much better than anticipated.

“Do you recognize that handwriting?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Whose is it?”

“Kris. Kris wrote it.”

“Donita, please examine State's Exhibit Number One again. Is it in the same or similar condition today as it was when you handed it over to the state?”

Donita looked at it with contempt. “Yep. Sure is.”

Elsie smiled a beatific smile. “No further questions.”

Nixon glowered as he rose from the chair. He descended upon Donita with a barrage of questions attacking her veracity, her mothering, her lifestyle. He flatly accused her of forging the valentine and planting it in the box for the state to find. She hunched her shoulders and suffered the questions, setting her jaw like a bulldog and answering in short phrases.

“Is there a new member of your household?”

Elsie quickly objected but was overruled.

Donita hesitated. “No.”

“What about Roy Mayfield?”

Elsie stood this time. “Objection, your honor, irrelevant.”

“I'll tie it up, Judge.” When the judge nodded, Nixon said, “Donita, tell us about Roy Mayfield.”

“Roy's a friend.”

“Is he spending his days at your house?”

“He's there some.”

“Spending the night there, Mrs. Taney?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on: he's your lover, isn't he, your new romance?”

“Objection,” Elsie interjected.

“Overruled.”

When Donita remained silent, Nixon added, “Want me to repeat the question?” Donita shook her head, and Nixon added, “Need I remind you that you are under oath?”

“Roy's been a good friend to me. To all of us.”

“What about Al Taney? Is he your good friend, too?”

“He's Kris's brother.”

“Haven't you had sexual relations with Al Taney during your marriage to his brother, Kris?”

Elsie objected loudly, but her objection was overruled again.

Nixon moved closer to the witness stand. “Isn't it true that you and Al Taney plotted to remove Kris Taney from his home?”

Donita pressed her right hand against the side of her abdomen. “It's true I've wished Kris Taney gone lots of times, I tell you that much. Wished him gone to the devil.”

“Didn't you and Al and Roy all cook this allegation up to get my client out of the way?”

“No.”

“Didn't you convince your girls to lie about their father so that you and Roy could live happily ever after?”

“That's not right.” Donita was clutching her side with both hands, pressing her lips together; she was pale as death.

Nixon said, “You nervous, Mrs. Taney? Is talking about this giving you a pain?”

She shook her head. “It's my side. My ribs. Kris broke my ribs when he beat me with a axe handle last year, and they didn't heal up good.”

As a juror gasped, Elsie saw fireworks; a colorful spray of roman candles burst forth in her brain.

Nixon hurled toward the bench. “Objection, your honor! Instruct the jury to disregard!”

Elsie, on her feet, hooted with scorn. “Objection to what, Judge? He asked the question; he's got to live with the answer.”

While Nixon hotly contested the point, Elsie glimpsed Kris Taney. The defendant, his gaze focused on Donita, looked demonic, his eyes glinting malice. His wife met the look, but then shook her head and stared off into space.

Elsie stole another glance at the jury box. The jurors were noting the defendant's demeanor. One man nudged his seatmate and nodded in Taney's direction. Elsie caught the juror's attention and widened her eyes. The man nodded and looked away.

Now we're getting somewhere, she thought with satisfaction.