Hostile Witness (32 page)

35

He moved like a dancer, each vertebra rolling into place as he obliged her. His arms floated up and were held out to the side. He wiggled his fingers and rotated his hands to show his palms. Nothing up his sleeve.  He shook out one foot and then the other.  A real funny guy but Josie wasn’t laughing.

She took long measured steps toward him and short cautious ones to maneuver around the broken glass and the open door.  She closed it with her foot.  He was a good boy and didn’t move. Her back was to the wall, the hula girl plates were above her and beneath those plates was the dimmer switch for the lights. Josie turned it on high.  The man at her table closed his eyes and turned his head against the sudden brilliance. Josie squinted but didn’t look away. 

He was young, black, and well fed but skinnier than she first thought. From the back, all she had seen was his big jacket and baggy pants; the pant hems were frayed from dragging on the ground, the jacket was army surplus, not service issue.  He wore a heavy sweater that was striped in dark colors. There was a diamond in his ear.  His skin was smooth, his nose small, and his eyes glittered with amusement. He sported a small goatee and an impressive mass of dreadlocks that cascaded over his shoulders and dangled over his brow.

“Hold up, mama.” A gold tooth glinted as he smiled, trying to appease her. “I ain’t gonna hurt one hair on your head, and I sure as hell don’t want none of my hairs to be hurt neither.”

“No problem. Nobody will get hurt because we’re just going to wait right here until the police come.” Josie reached for the phone on the kitchen counter and lifted the receiver.

“Aw, you didn’t do that, baby.”  He started to lower his arms but Josie notched the muzzle up an inch. “Come on, mama. I’m gonna drop ‘em right here. Right here, okay?”  He lowered his arms inch by inch, testing her. The barrel of the gun kept pace.

“Keep them where I can see them,” Josie warned. 

“Call the man and I don’ tell you what I got for you,” he warned, agitated now.   Cautiously he picked up a spiral bound book that lay on the table and held it close. “You want to help Hannah, then you be smart about the cops.”

Josie’s heart skipped at Hannah’s name. The hand with the receiver quivered. She narrowed her eyes, trying to read this man, trying to find that edge in her gut that would give her a heads up to be cautious. It wasn’t there.

“One time offer, baby.  For Hannah,” the man sing-songed. 

Slowly Josie put the receiver back in its cradle, never taking her eyes off him. The gun was getting heavy. She held it with both hands and waved him toward the hall. Josie opened the door to the closet.

“Get in,” she said.

“What? You crazy? I won’ be going in there,” he cried backing up and waving his hands.

“Yes, you will.  Now get in until I let you out.”

Complaining, muttering, the man walked past her and into the hall closet. He crossed his arms over his chest. Josie held the gun at the ready.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Miggy,” he answered.

 Josie nodded, shut the door and braced it with a chair. Miggy Estrada. How about that? Josie headed for the kitchen and the phone once more. She dialed fast. One ring and it was answered. Josie leaned on the counter and said:

“Archer. I need you.”

“’Bout time. You better be believin’ you’re gonna be sorry for treatin’ me so bad.”

“I’ve heard it before you little piece of shit.” Archer took him by the arm and sat him down at the dining room table. Josie settled herself at the other end, and Archer took the chair next to her.

“Oh, big man. Big old man,” Miggy shot back.

“Big enough,” Archer said smoothly. “Now, where’ve you been? What do you want? And why’d you have to break in here to get it?”

“I be at another club, man. I didn’ know you was lookin’ and I didn’ know Hannah was hurt ‘till this mornin’, man. And even if I knowed you was lookin’, you think I’m stupid enough to come straight to you? All that’d get me is time, man. I know ‘bout court. I know ‘bout lawyers.”

 “Yeah? Like what do you know?” Josie asked.

“Like if I tol’ you I’ve been with Hannah, I tol’ you I been at the big house before the fire, you be pointin’ at me and sayin’ I done the crime. I like Hannah, I don’ like her ‘nough to go to the big house for. Unh-huh, mama.”

“I don’t work that way,” Josie answered knowing any number of lawyers would lay blame on someone like him just to get their client acquitted. “Look, I just want to know what you’ve got. I want to know why Hannah was willing to risk going to jail just to see you. Are you lovers?”

Miggy snorted and smiled, his gold tooth showing, “I don’ go with babies. She’s a beauty, but a baby. Hannah just need me to talk to. She don’ think about jail. She just scared. You was gone, her mama was gone. Her mama’s man come into the house and scare her, so she run to me.”

“Kip Rayburn was at the Malibu house with Hannah?” Josie asked.

Miggy’s head went up and down solemnly, his locks bouncing like springs.

“He tol’ her she was a lunatic, man. He kicked her. He made her afraid.  So when she saw him drive away, and her mama go with her man, Hannah got scared and come to me. It’s always safe with me. I don’ want nothin' from her and she can talk.”

“Were you going to take her to Mexico?”

Miggy shook his head.

“Naw, that don’ work. Hannah and me tried before but she couldn’ do it. Couldn’ leave her mama. Hannah love her mama too much.”  He looked from Josie to Archer, his long lashed eyes looked pained. “She hurt bad? I’d hate it if Hannah is hurt bad.”

“She’ll be okay,” Josie assured him and left it at that. The minutes were ticking by. “But it’s going to be bad for her if she has to go to jail, Miggy. If you’ve got something for her, if you can help, then I need to know right now.”

“Hannah brought this.  She says anything happen to her, she wants the book safe.”

Miggy pulled the spiral bound book from inside his jacket. For a split second he held it and then, with a flick of his wrist, he sent it sliding toward Josie. Archer intercepted it.  He put it between the two of them.  Josie flipped open the cover. Here was Hannah’s soul, and the talent Linda had sold for five hundred dollars.

Sketches. Watercolors. Ink and pencil.

Her own burned hand. Red watercolor and ink.  The fingers were elongated and the injury magnified. The work spared the viewer nothing.

 Ruins of the house painted in pastel; Fritz Rayburn’s face exquisitely etched into the strokes that formed the remains. Archer saw it and traced the outline until Josie saw it too.

Josie turned the page. Here was the sucker punch.  The dark haired woman was running away from the girl and the burning house was in the background.  This was a picture of Linda turning her back in horror.  Hannah was left behind.

“That girl’s got it goin’ on and she don’ know it,” Miggy said sadly.

Josie shut the sketchbook.

“She’s talented, Miggy, but this isn’t evidence. You didn’t need to break in to give me this. It won’t help Hannah.”

“Wasn’t the pictures I wanted to give you,” Miggy laughed. He got up again and took the book away from Archer. This time Miggy opened it to the back pages. “Was the writing.  Here.”

He pointed to a garden of scribbles. Bubble printing that spelled her name. The word mom in all its incarnations. Bits and pieces of sentences. Broken hearts sketched and snakes wound ‘round columns of words. Josie held it away so she could read without her glasses. Poetry.

“Listen to this,” Josie murmured.

Cut off from help

In my heart, my head

Cut down to the quick

By the person I loved

Now dread

So loyal, loving

Deep in trust

Given away for lust and lust and lust

“She didn’t exactly feel like part of the family, did she?” Archer noted and pointed to another note.  “It’s dated July 31. ‘Which Will He Choose’.  She knew Fritz wanted Kip to divorce Linda.”

Josie lifted her eyes.

“Did Hannah know that Kip might divorce her mother, Miggy?”

“For sure. Thought it was all her fault. Hannah thought every bad thing ever happen was her fault.”

Josie crossed her arms, “Archer, that’s what she meant. The divorce, the problems between Kip and Fritz. She thought they were all her fault for just existing. The fire was just another bit of bad luck.”

“Rudy will say Hannah was trying to protect her mother by killing Rayburn,” Archer pointed out.

 Josie buried her face in her hands.  When she dropped them, she talked to the table.

“I need something real.”

“I got somethin’ more,” Miggy dug in his pocket and handed Josie a piece of paper.  “I was gonna be leavin’ that. That’s what you need to know.”

Josie read the note then shook her head as she looked quizzically at Miggy.   “Ask who was in the bedroom? Do you mean Fritz’s bedroom?”

“Naw,” Miggy whispered dramatically. “Her mama’s bedroom.  You know how Hannah’s always touchin’ and checkin’ everything in the whole wide world?”

“Yeah,” Archer said.

“So, man, she checks everythin’ important but nobody ask what’s most important of all?”  Miggy leaned back in his chair and grinned, that gold tooth glinting. He held up a hand in a papal gesture.  “Her mama’s most important. She look in on her mama every night. Las’ thing. Anybody ask what Hannah seen when she checked in that room the night the old judge died?

“Well, did you?”

36

“Hannah? Hannah? Was Kip in bed when you checked on your mother the night of the fire?  Hannah? Can you wake up enough to tell me about Kip?” -  Josie Baylor-Bates Long Beach Memorial Hospital, 6:15 AM 

“Ask her. . .” -  Hannah Sheraton, Long Beach Memorial Hospital, 6:16 AM

“Ms. Bates, you’ve kept this court waiting.”

“I’m sorry, you’re honor.” Josie pushed through the bar. The jury wasn’t seated but the press was ready. Judge Norris wasn’t peeved, just curious.

“Do you want to offer the court an excuse?” he asked.

 “No, Your Honor, only an apology.”

Josie put her briefcase on the defense table then stood at ease behind it. Norris was bouncing slightly in his chair, thinking.  He sat up slowly and put his elbows on top of the desk. A moment later he raised one hand and crooked his finger. Josie stepped around the table. Norris’s eyes flickered toward the prosecutor.

“You, too, Mr. Klein, if you like.”

Rudy joined Josie. Together they looked up and leaned forward. Norris covered the microphone.

“Your client, Ms. Bates, how is she?” Judge Norris asked.

“Still sedated, but healing. They expect to transfer her to the prison ward in another week, perhaps sooner.”

Norris nodded solemnly. “You understand that I can’t allow another delay?”

“Yes, Your Honor. I’m ready to move forward,” Josie answered.

“Mr. Klein?”

“The people are ready, Your Honor.”

Judge Norris motioned them back. Rudy glanced at Josie. She walked past him. Both stood while the jury filed into the box then took their chairs when Judge Norris called the court to order. For the record, he reminded them of the matter at hand and then he was ready.

“Ms. Bates.”

Josie stood. Her fingertips rested lightly on the table. There were pages of notes for each doctor she had meant to call, doctors whose testimony would seem almost inconsequential if her gamble paid off. She moved those notes to the side and looked instead at the ones she had frantically scribbled after seeing Hannah, ideas that she had relayed to Archer who, in turn, was searching for corroboration of the information Miggy had given them. In this minute, as the courtroom waited, Josie agonized about her choice: build the case, or go for the jugular. Finally she looked at Norris. It would be the jugular.

“The defense would like to call Linda Rayburn to the stand.”

Josie turned around and watched the old Linda come down the aisle. If she was surprised to be called she didn’t show it.  She was a woman above the fray, a lady who wore her money well. Her dark hair was pulled into a low chignon once again. On her ears were moons of Mabe pearls. Her make-up was exquisite, her suit worth more than the jurors made collectively in a month.  Gone was the pretense that she was just a regular mom standing by her wronged daughter. From the set of her shoulders, to the look in her eye, Linda wanted everyone in that courtroom to know that she was a Rayburn. No one would compromise her or her family – especially Josie.

Linda took the oath. Josie waited.  She could feel her heart in her chest. She could hear every beat. She was afraid that what she was about to do was motivated not by the quest for justice, but by her hatred of Linda; Linda who had committed a heinous crime against her daughter by leaving her.  If that’s what she was about, then Josie knew this would be the last time she stood as an officer of the court.  Taking a deep breath, she put the question of her personal intent out of her mind.  She would look into her heart later; decide what her own truth was later.  Now the yellow legal pad was in her hands. The notes were there to guide her, but they had been hastily written before dawn and they were inadequate in the face of Hannah’s directive.

Ask her.

Question: Was your husband in bed with you the night of the fire that killed Fritz Rayburn?

It was a good question but one that would do no good without a properly laid foundation. That was the way the law worked. A trial was a building. Josie had blocks, Rudy had blocks and the jury was watching each of them build their case like a house. Rudy’s foundation was built on opportunity, forensic evidence; Josie’s would be built on emotions, motives, and the consequences of personal failure. The stronger foundation would win the day.

Leaving her notes behind, Josie walked toward the jury, turned and presented herself to Linda. Before Josie could begin, the door in the back of the courtroom opened. Everyone looked; only Josie knew enough to be relieved. She asked the court’s indulgence.

“A minute, if it please the court.” 

With a flutter of his fingertips Judge Norris gave his permission for her to talk to Archer. Archer looked Josie in the eye. His were as she expected: a level playing field. She could only imagine what he saw in hers.  He handed her a manila envelope. Nothing more passed between them.  Archer took a front row seat. Josie pulled out the contents. She read quickly, digesting the information, understanding instantly that Archer had brought her the concrete she needed to convince the jury her foundation was strong.

“Ms. Bates?”

“I’m sorry, Your Honor,” Josie mumbled and looked up.

It was Norris who had called but Linda who caught her attention.  In that moment Josie was blessed with the gift of absolute clarity.  She and Linda were not friends and never had been.  They had lived together as girls, parting just on the verge of womanhood. What Josie had found amusing, exciting and exotic as a girl, she now recognized as nothing more than the underpinnings of Linda’s selfishness, arrogance and greed. Linda had burst into Josie’s life again, and pulled her into this rollercoaster of a ride. She had been stronger then Josie that night. Now Josie had stepped out of the car and onto the platform. She could see the trajectory of that rollercoaster and knew where it had to stop. With the information Archer had brought, it would roll right up to Kip Rayburn’s doorstep.

“Mrs. Rayburn,” Josie began. “What kind of relationship do you have with the defendant?”

“Hannah is my daughter,” Linda answered.

“Would you describe your relationship as close?”

“Extremely. Hannah and I have been through a lot together.”

“Mrs. Rayburn, were you married to Hannah’s father?” Josie asked.

“No, I was not. Last I heard that wasn’t a crime.”

Josie ignored the editorial.

“So you raised Hannah without family support? No grandmother? No siblings?”

“No. No one.”

“Do you believe you were successful as a single mother?”

 “I think I did a good job. We never went hungry. We were always clothed. There was always a roof over our heads.”

“Did you and Hannah live alone?” Josie’s expression remained neutral but Linda caught wind of something. Perhaps it was just a slight flicker of Josie’s eyes narrowing, perhaps it was the way Josie rushed the question, eager to get to the answer that set her off. Whatever it was, Linda was on her guard.

“Sometimes we lived alone,” Linda answered cautiously.

“When you didn’t live alone, who were you living with?”

“I dated while I was single. Some relationships were more serious than others.”

“How many serious relationships resulted in new homes for you and your daughter?  The daughter you were so devoted to.” Josie asked.

“Objection, Your Honor,” Rudy called. “Ms. Bates’ attitude is judgmental and she is trying to influence the jury.”

“Mrs. Rayburn may answer the question, but let’s not communicate personal views by word or tone, Ms. Bates.”  Judge Norris nodded toward Linda directing her to answer.

“I don’t know exactly how many serious relationships I had,” Linda answered tightly.

“Two?” Josie suggested.

“More than two, I suppose. I was single quite a long time.”

“More than five?” Josie gave her another option.

“There were a few,” Linda snapped. “Some were personal relationships; others were just people who became roommates.”

“How many female roommates did you have?”

Linda hesitated. That lip was disappearing under her top teeth. It was a gesture that made her appear thoughtful.  The spark in her eyes made her seem dangerous. To her credit, Linda kept herself in check when she answered.

“None were women. I found men more suitable roommates. They were more reliable. You could always count on them for - friendship. Men know the meaning of that word, unlike some women I know.”  Linda leaned forward slightly. “But if you’re trying to imply that I slept around, I resent the implication.  I would like to point out it has nothing to do with the matter at hand.”

Judge Norris listened. Rudy did not object.  They were as curious as everyone else where Josie was headed.

“I’m trying to determine how often you and Hannah moved between the time Hannah was born, and your marriage to Kip Rayburn,” Josie assured her casually. “I’d like to know how many places you lived in those fourteen years.”

“I don’t remember. I moved for better jobs, for opportunities. I moved sometimes because I was seeing someone special. I was looking for a safe place for Hannah and me to live and a good man to settle down with. It took me awhile to find that.”

“How many times did you move, Mrs. Rayburn?” Josie pressed, unwilling to be led down another path.

“I don’t remember,” Linda barked.

“I just want to be clear,” Josie suggested, unfazed by Linda’s tone. “Each time you moved you were looking for the best situation for both yourself and your daughter, is that correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Linda relaxed.

“And no one was acceptable until you met Kip Rayburn, is that correct?”

“I wouldn’t say acceptable. I didn’t fall in love until I met Kip,” Linda explained. “That’s the point, isn’t it?  Love.”

“Yes, Mrs. Rayburn. That is exactly the point,” Josie agreed quietly. A heartbeat later Josie was on track. “Did the fact that Kip Rayburn was very rich, that he lived in a very big house, that he had a prominent name influence your decision to fall in love?”

“I didn’t decide to fall in love. It happened and, yes, I was glad he was stable and financially secure.”

“So you married Kip Rayburn for love and because he could provide you and your daughter with a good home?” Josie asked.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And concern for your daughter’s future was a large part of your decision, is that correct?” Josie prodded.

“Yes, of course,” Linda answered.

“So you chose a man who testified in this court that he took no interest in Hannah. Who, in fact, had washed his hands of her?”

“Objection, Your Honor,” Rudy called. “Mr. Rayburn’s testimony is part of the record, and I believe it is qualified by the fact that he regrets that he took little interest in the defendant.”

“Sustained. If you have a question, Ms. Bates, ask it or move on,” Judge Norris directed.

Josie walked a few steps toward Linda. Her chin was down; her eyes were on the ground. When she stopped, Josie raised her head and looked toward the jury box, but at no one in particular.

“Mrs. Rayburn, was there ever a time you considered yourself a bad mother?”

The only sounds heard in the courtroom were the staccato touch of the court reporter typing and the incredulous laugh that came from the witness stand.