Hostile Witness (34 page)

“Mrs. Rayburn,” Josie demanded. “Did Fritz Rayburn threaten to ruin your husband professionally if he did not divorce you?”

“Oh, my God,” Linda breathed, her fingers shaking as they covered her mouth.

“Is it, or isn’t it true, Mrs. Rayburn?” Josie turned toward the bench. “Your Honor, direct the witness to answer the question.”

“Objection, Your Honor. Hearsay. Mrs. Rayburn could not have first hand knowledge of what was between her husband and his father.”

“That’s not true, Your Honor,” Josie said quickly. “Hannah knew about the ultimatum. I would like to mark her journal as exhibit twenty-three.  You’ll see that it indicates that she knew there was every possibility her mother and Kip Rayburn might divorce.  If my client knew of this arrangement, then it can be concluded that Mrs. Rayburn also knew.”

“I’ll allow this line of questioning.” The judge waved her on. Josie ran for the finish line.

“Did you know about that threat, Mrs. Rayburn?”

“Yes, I did,” Linda answered.

“And do you know what your husband’s decision was regarding this ultimatum?”

“He would never divorce me,” Linda whispered. “Never.”

“So Kip Rayburn was willing to lose his inheritance, willing to endure the public humiliation his father was going to visit on him, all for you?”

“Fritz never would have followed through. He loved Kip.”

“He loved him so much he locked him in closets and he almost cut his finger off. Fritz Rayburn loved his son so much that he enjoyed threatening him and controlling him even as an adult.  Fritz cared so much about his son that he wanted him to destroy the only thing he held dear – his marriage?”

“Fritz played games. That was all. He never would have done it,” Linda insisted.

“And you were sure of that, Mrs. Rayburn?”

“Yes.”

“Was your husband sure of that, Mrs. Rayburn? Was Kip Rayburn positive that his father was going to back away from that threat, or was Kip Rayburn driven to find a way to stop his father, Fritz Rayburn, from destroying his life?”

Linda hesitated. She looked at the judge. Her eyes shifted to Rudy then darted frantically to the spectators, looking for someone who would save her from this. That hand was back at her throat only this time the gesture was not alluring. Her nails scratched a long red welt down her neck before she realized what she was doing.

“Objection, Your Honor. Calls for a conclusion. If Ms. Bates wants to know what Mr. Rayburn thought. . .”

“Withdrawn. Withdrawn.”  Josie waved her hands as if she could erase that question.  She closed the gap between her and Linda.

 “Mrs. Rayburn, do you know if Hannah looked into your room the night of the fire? Less than 48 hours after your husband had words with his father regarding your marital status. After your husband violently attacked his father by throwing a heavy vase at Justice Rayburn. Did your daughter check your bedroom that night?”

“Yes, she did.” Linda’s voice quavered.

“And was your husband in bed with you, Mrs. Rayburn?”

The silence was full to bursting as the two women looked at one another.

“Mrs. Rayburn, your husband was angry with his father. Your husband testified that he had a heated argument with his father and had thrown a heavy object at him. Mrs. Rayburn, was your husband in bed with you when the fire started?”

Linda leaned forward. Her voice was low, her words for Josie only. Her eyes were full of fearful tears and her lips trembled.

“Don’t go there, Josie,” she begged.

“Answer the question, please. When Hannah did her nightly rounds and looked into your bedroom to make sure you had not abandoned her, did she see both you and your husband in bed?”

“I’m begging you,” Linda whispered, but her voice was harsh. There was no pleading only a warning. “Don’t do this.”

Josie put her hands on the wooden railing that surrounded Linda.

“Is your husband more important than your child, Mrs. Rayburn, the same way every man you’ve ever been with has been more important than your child?”

“Argumentative, Your Honor,” Rudy called.

“She is a hostile witness, Judge,” Josie shot back, her eyes never leaving Linda’s. “She is hostile to this court, and to her child, and to anyone who might stand in the way of Linda Rayburn getting – and keeping - exactly what she wants.”

“Ms. Bates, ask the question,” Norris snapped.

“I have, Your Honor and I will keep asking it until I get an answer.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll do it.”  Judge Norris took the matter out of Josie’s hands.

“No,” Josie roared. “She is my witness.”

“Ms. Bates!” Norris was equally adamant. “Step back.”

Reluctantly, Josie did as she was told.

“Mrs. Rayburn, was your husband in bed with you the night the fire started? If you do not answer, or you do not answer truthfully, I will hold you in contempt of court and you will go to jail. Now, was he, or was he not, with you?”

The courtroom itself seemed alive.  The collective breath of all those present was held so that it seemed the walls heaved in anticipation.

“No.” Linda choked on the word. Her head fell back, and her long and beautiful neck arched toward the ceiling as she gave up, gave in and told the court what it needed to know.

“Did he go to bed with you?” Josie took over the questioning once more.

“No,” Linda admitted.

“Did he ever come to bed that evening?”

“No.”

“How do you know that?”

“I know because I was awake. I was waiting. He was upset that night.”

“With his father?”

“Yes, with his father,” Linda shot back. “Because his father had treated me badly in front of our guests.”

“Mrs. Rayburn, were you worried that your husband would give in and save his inheritance by divorcing you?”

Linda shook her head, “Never. Never. If my husband was going to do that he would already have filed the papers.”

“So he was willing to give up his relationship with his father, his father’s partnership interest in the firm, and everything else to stay with you?”

“I didn’t say that,” Linda answered coldly. “He said he would work it out.”

“And exactly how was he going to work that out, Mrs. Rayburn?” Josie demanded. “How was he going to do that?”

“He wasn’t going to do it by killing his father, if that’s what you’re implying.”

 Linda’s shoulders began to shake.  It was just a small tremor at first but Josie was close enough to see it begin. This was not a manifestation of anger but of something else entirely: Linda Rayburn was breaking down. The pressure of having to choose between truth and a lie was bringing her to the breaking point.  When she turned back to Josie, her shoulders had slumped in defeat, her face was pale, those green eyes that turned up so exotically were seeing the future, and it wasn’t pretty, or safe, or filled with promise.

“Then tell this court, do you know where he was when the fire started?”

“No, I do not.”

“Mrs. Rayburn. . .” Josie began.

“Josie, please. Don’t ask any more,” Linda begged. “Kip didn’t do anything. I swear he didn’t.”

Josie refused to listen. She was overwhelmed by outrage on behalf of Hannah, the girl who had always paid the price for Linda’s cowardice and greed, the daughter who protected her mother at every turn, only to take second place to the men in Linda’s life.  Josie’s fist hit the railing, underscoring her next words.

“Do you know where your husband was, Mrs. Rayburn?”

“No, I don’t. I imagine he was sleeping in the guestroom. He did that when. . .”

Josie twirled away and took two strides toward the jury box. Every eye was on her, every mind was following her lead.

“Maybe we should all imagine.  Maybe we should imagine that your husband was at the west wing of your home fighting with his father. Maybe we should imagine that in his rage he pushed his father and the old man fell and hit his head.” Josie whirled back toward Linda but went no closer. “Maybe we could imagine that it was Kip Rayburn spilling turpentine on the floor and lighting a match so that he could protect his interest in Fritz Rayburn’s law firm and remain married to you. Maybe we should imagine that!”

Rudy was on his feet hollering. “Ms. Bates is making up a story. This is not evidence. This is fiction and conjecture. . . .”

“This is a witness hostile to the defense, Judge.” Josie stormed toward the bench, putting her hands on top of it as if she could force Judge Norris to validate her questioning.  “You designated her hostile and her refusal to . . .” 

“No. No,” Linda cried. Nearly hysterical, she grasped the wooden railing, shaking it as if she might escape by tearing it down. “No. Don’t even say that. Kip didn’t set that fire.  He didn’t hurt his father . . he couldn’t. . . ”

“He couldn’t what, Linda?”

Josie whipped around.  She could feel the fire in her cheeks, she was caught up in the fight for Hannah, and she would not lose.  Josie was feverish with the infectious sense of victory. This time she would win. She would save the right person.

“Why not? Is it any more outrageous than imagining Hannah, that poor, confused girl could have set that fire? That girl who was so terrified of losing you, and her home, that she checked on you every night? Why is that any more reasonable?”

“Because it’s just not right. It’s not right. . .”

Linda’s bristled with anger, but behind her eyes there was true pain. If Josie had not been caught up, if the end of her quest had not seemed so near, she might have been touched by that pain and loosened the tension on the lasso that was her questions. But the momentum was too great. She walked. She pointed. She raised her voice, and with her height she swooped toward the witness stand and tightened the rope around Linda, choking the answer out of her.

“Why couldn’t he have done it? Why isn’t it right to ask that question? He wasn’t there with you in bed. He did not come to the scene of the fire until it was put down. He didn’t call for help, you did.  You gave him time to get away. You were protecting him all this time weren’t you, Mrs. Rayburn? Protecting your husband over your own child. Isn’t that the case, Mrs. Rayburn?”

Josie’s voice rose to a sharp note that cut through the tension in the courtroom and divided the onlookers into those who couldn’t wait to hear the truth, and those who were afraid to.  With gargantuan effort Josie pulled back. Her voice dropped. She was exhausted. Her hands fell to her sides and she pulled herself to her full height.

“He wasn’t in the bedroom when Hannah checked your room. He hadn’t come to bed that night. He was fighting with his father over matters that concerned his life, and yours. There is no reason your husband couldn’t have set that fire, is there, Mrs. Rayburn?”  Josie took a few steps forward. “Is there, Linda?”

Linda was crying hard.  Mascara seeped around the corners of her eyes. The small scar at the side of her mouth looked ugly and raw; Linda looked old and tired.

“Yes, yes there is,” Linda whispered.

“Then tell us,” Josie asked. “Give us one good reason not to imagine Kip Rayburn setting the fire that killed his father.”

Linda raised her head slowly. She no longer cared how she looked, or whom she spoke to. She had made her decision.