Hostile Witness (33 page)

Josie let her eyes slide past Linda toward Judge Norris.

“Your Honor, I would like this witness to be considered hostile to the defense. I do not believe she has my client’s best interests in mind despite the fact she is the defendant’s mother.”

“How dare you. . .” Linda breathed.

“So directed,” Norris responded.

With that Josie gave her full attention to Linda Rayburn. The gloves were off.

“Isn’t it true, Mrs. Rayburn, that you have not been the perfect mother?”

“At least I am a mother, Ms. Bates. I don’t have to steal someone else’s child to feel like a woman,” Linda answered coldly.

Josie’s jaw tightened, her chin jerked slightly as if she’d taken a well-landed blow. Not that it mattered. She was still standing and would be at the end of this.

“Your Honor, direct the witness. . .”

“All right.” Linda gave in quickly.  “No, I’m not the perfect mother.  I don’t think anyone is the perfect parent or the perfect person. We all do what we can to get by - including you.”

“Mrs. Rayburn, isn’t it true that you often based your selection of gentlemen friends on their ability to take care of you financially, as opposed to a decision based on their character?”

“No, that is not true.  I was not kept.”

Josie opened the envelope and pulled out a sheet of paper.

“In the last 16 years your IRS returns show ten different residences. Of those residences, you have lived with Kip Rayburn for two years. That leaves nine residences since your daughter was born.  By tracking those addresses we find that, of those nine, your name only appeared on two leases. Do you remember whose names were on either the leases or mortgages of those remaining seven residences?”

“Not all of them, no,” Linda answered, touching those big, expensive earrings.  Her neck muscles corded. She chanced a glance at the jury. Josie didn’t bother. She knew exactly how interested they were.

“Let me refresh your memory, Mrs. Rayburn. Dan Burdon of New York. An investment banker. Steve Witsick, New Jersey. A gentleman who seems to have a rather large income from a trust fund, as well as two convictions for assault on women.  How about Dominic Cort.  . .”

Linda interrupted. She lifted her chin.

“Yes, I remember them.”

“All of them, Mrs. Rayburn?”

“Yes,” she answered coldly, “all of them. Do you want me to list them? Do you want me to give you a list of all the men I slept with even if I didn’t live with them? If that is what it is going to take to help my daughter, then I will do that.”

“Your Honor.” Rudy raised his hand. “Counsel is badgering the witness.”

“Overruled,” Norris intoned. “The witness will confine her remarks to answering the question.”

Josie’s lips twitched. She was pleased that the judge saw it her way, but she took no pleasure in doing what she had to do.

“Then, when you took the important step of moving in with these men, you believed those relationships would lead to a stable home for your daughter, Hannah?”

“No. I mean, yes. I. . .”

Linda’s fingers went to her throat before trailing down the open neck of her blouse. To her credit, her voice was controlled and unapologetic when she spoke again. Linda was good under pressure and she had figured out where this was going.

“I am not a saint, Ms. Bates, and I’m not the best judge of character. I’ve often asked my daughter’s forgiveness for making choices that weren’t appropriate. I was young and stupid. That’s not a crime. None of that is a crime.”

Josie stepped forward crossed her arms on the wooden railing that separated her from Linda. She could smell Linda’s perfume, and see the outline of her lipstick, and the shine of her gloss. Josie studied her face then looked her in the eye. Linda had finally made the wrong move.

“How about abandonment, Mrs. Rayburn?” Josie asked clearly. “Would you consider abandonment a crime?”

“I imagine it would depend on whom one was abandoning,” Linda answered carefully.

Pushing away, Josie pulled another sheet of paper out of the envelope.  She walked a half circle in front of the witness stand.

“Your daughter, Hannah, for instance.”  Josie looked up from her papers. She inclined her head like a relative concerned for Linda’s health.  “Would you consider it a crime to abandon a nine year old girl for, say, three days?”

Linda blanched. She turned her head toward the bench. There was no help from the judge. The jury strained to see, but could not. Linda offered her profile to Josie. Her expression was one of pure, controlled hatred. Josie let the question hang, and it was Rudy who broke the silence. His timing was off; his objection lacked the right level of passion to be effective.

“Assumes facts not in evidence.”

“Sustained,” Norris directed solemnly.

Josie held a sheet of paper toward the bench. The judge took it, looked at it and handed it to the clerk.

“Your Honor,” she said. “I would like to submit a report from the Chicago Police Department as defense exhibit twenty-two.  Mrs. Rayburn, were you arrested in July of 1994 for abandoning your daughter in a hotel room in downtown Chicago?”

Linda was still as a statue, pale as a ghost.

“Mrs. Rayburn,” Josie demanded, “did you pay a fine and did you serve four months in jail beginning in July of 1994 because you were convicted of abandoning your daughter, Hannah Sheraton, and endangering her life by leaving her with no money, food or supervision?”

Slowly Linda swung her head back to Josie. The two women stared at one another.

“Yes,” Linda said evenly. “All that is true.”

“And where had you been, Mrs. Rayburn?”

“I was. . .” Linda hesitated. A lie was in the making. Josie could see it.

“What, Mrs. Rayburn?” Josie pressed, moving one step closer, daring Linda to tell it. “What could possibly have kept you from returning to your daughter? It must have been something dire. An emergency? A matter of life and death? What was it, Mrs. Rayburn, that kept you from this daughter you loved so much?”

“I had been with a friend and lost track . . .”

Linda hung her head. If it had been anyone else, if it had been any other circumstance, Josie would have backed off. But this was Hannah’s life that hung in the balance and the woman who held the key to exoneration had never once told the whole truth in her life.

“Lost track of what, Mrs. Rayburn? Time? You actually forgot about your nine year old daughter because you were. . .”

“I was partying,” Linda growled defiantly.  Her shoulders were squared. She raised her voice and threw her head back.  She would not be cowed by this proceeding or shamed by Josie. Josie, whom she hated for making Hannah believe in fairytales. “I partied a lot back then.  I’m not proud of it. I was very young when I had Hannah, and it took me a long time to grow up. In some ways she grew up faster than I did. Are you satisfied?”

“I simply want to be clear, Mrs. Rayburn. You lived with a variety of men. At one time you abandoned your daughter and were arrested for endangering. . . .”

“Your Honor, Mrs. Rayburn’s past is her past. She is not on trial here.”

“Ms. Bates, enough. Move on with this witness.”

Norris was peeved, Rudy confused, and Linda raging, but Josie was going to do this by the numbers because the only people that counted were in the jury box. 

“Your Honor, Mrs. Rayburn’s past behavior goes to establishing a pattern regarding how Mrs. Rayburn’s parenting habits affected the defendant’s attempt to control her environment,” Josie argued.

“Then make it clear where you’re going, Ms. Bates, or drop this line of questioning.”

“Thank you, Judge.” Josie discarded the manila envelope and went back to Linda.  “Let’s talk about Hannah growing up. Did she ever complain about your lifestyle? Moving often, changing schools?”

“No. She never did,” Linda replied.

“Did you ever ask her if she minded moving?”

“The subject never came up. Hannah was a good girl. She is still a good girl.”

“Did Hannah exhibit any displeasure or anxiety over the way you were living?”

“You mean like give me trouble? Run away? Things like that?”
”Yes, exactly,” Josie answered.

Linda shook her head, and the pearl earrings looked too heavy now.

“No. She never did anything to cause trouble.  She always came right home from school. Always did things around the house. She was hardly ever gone.”

“Would you say she seemed obsessed with being home? Or at least obsessed with being in a place that was familiar because of your frequent moves?”

Linda hesitated, “She stayed very close to home. She sometimes became insistent that I stay close to home.”

“Was it about the time of your abandonment that Hannah started exhibiting the symptoms of her obsessive/compulsive disorder?”

“Yes,” Linda answered quietly. “She started counting then.”

“Did she do anything else?”

“She began to touch things, especially in the house. Doorways. Windows.”

”Hannah was particularly attentive to ways to get out of whatever place you were living in, is that correct?” Josie asked.

“Yes,” Linda answered.

“And was it about that time that Hannah started checking on other things.”

“Yes,” Linda answered, clearly relieved that the spotlight had turned to Hannah. “She would often check the locks on the doors before she went to sleep. Sometimes she would check on toys, or clothes in the closet.”

“Would she follow the same path every night?”

“Yes.”

“No matter where you were living?”

“It didn’t matter if we were in a hotel room.”

“Would it ever change?”

“Only in terms of how long it took her,” Linda said, cooperating, anxious to have this done. “It all depended on how big the house or apartment was.”

“And where was the last place Hannah checked every night before she could sleep?”

“I don’t know what you mean? I mean the last place she checked was the last place,” Linda said, exasperated.

“Isn’t it true, Mrs. Rayburn, that the last place Hannah checks every night is wherever you are sleeping? Isn’t it true that Hannah cannot go to sleep unless she is sure that you are in bed and asleep first?”

Josie walked slowly toward her. Linda’s worst nightmare was unfolding under the glaring lights of the court. Josie could feel people investing in it, understanding it, waiting for Josie to ask that final question that would change the course of this trial barely moments after the defense had begun its case.

“Isn’t it true, Mrs. Rayburn, that Hannah would look into your room four, five, sometimes six times a night to make sure you were there? To make sure that she hadn’t been abandoned once again?”

Josie was one step closer to Linda then two. With the third she stopped and Linda still remained quiet.  Josie raised her voice.

“Isn’t it true, Mrs. Rayburn, that Hannah checked the room you shared with your husband, Kip, on the night of the fire that killed Justice Rayburn?”

Josie had Linda now. Norris stopped bouncing in his chair. Rudy had leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table.