The Perfect Game (13 page)

Lauren had received the money back in March after Candace had reassured the life insurance company that Lauren had been cleared of any involvement in Liz's death. Candace had urged Lauren to use the money to take a leave of absence from work so she could attend the trial full-time.

“No, I donated it all to Mothers Against Drunk Driving, a cause that was important to both Liz and me because our parents were killed by a drunk driver.”

“How much was the payout?”

“A million dollars.”

“A million dollars? Surely you kept a little bit for yourself, to pay off your college loans or pay the legal fees necessary to defend yourself against the false accusations in this case or to take some time off of work so you could attend this trial?”

Fisher stood up. “Objection, counsel is leading the witness.”

“Sustained.”

Candace smiled. “I'll rephrase the question. Exactly how much of the million dollar payout did you donate to MADD?”

“Every penny of it.”

“No more questions, Your Honor.”

Fisher stood, “No more questions.”

Lauren breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped down. Judge Robles called for a short recess. Lauren slipped back into her usual seat behind the Prosecution table.

Candace leaned over to whisper to Lauren. “I knew Fisher was in over his enormous head. He's been so busy preening for the cameras that he doesn't even know the facts of this case.”

Lauren caught Boyd's eye and he nodded at her almost imperceptibly as if agreeing she had done well.

Chapter Thirty-five

(Wednesday, August 30–Thursday, August 31)

With her own testimony behind her, Lauren settled into her courtroom role representing the family. Candace wanted Lauren front and center to remind the jury of Liz. “Your striking resemblance will help humanize her for the jury.”

“Striking resemblance?” Lauren laughed.

“If you don't think you look like your sister, you've been smoking your lunch.”

“Thank you. That's a very flattering comparison, but Liz was larger than life. Gorgeous, funny, charming.”

“Look in the mirror sometime,” Candace said.

Lauren was determined to attend every minute of the trial, happy to finally be doing something. Detective Boyd drove her to court each day. Lauren had offered to get an apartment closer to the courthouse, but Candace had advised against it, not wanting to invite any speculation that Lauren was trying to advance her status. Boyd reassured Lauren it was not inconvenient to drive her to court as he was already attending to provide investigative support. He sat with Lauren in court each morning, but often left to track down information, always arriving back in time to drive Lauren home. On the way to court each day, they would anticipate the day's testimony and on the way home, they would analyze how the trial was unfolding.

The judicial gag order imposed on the lawyers did not extend to Lauren. At Candace's urging, she began to speak candidly to the press about her hopes for a conviction. When reporters attempted to ask Lauren about the false accusations that had been lobbied against her, she responded with a short “I won't dignify that with a response,” turning immediately to the next reporter. Lauren had a very sharp memory and she shut out any reporter who had attempted to associate her with her sister's death. Most of the reporters learned not to cross that line. Of course, there were always a few tabloid reporters who persisted in asking insulting questions, but Lauren became adept at ignoring them. Lauren, who had always stayed comfortably in her sister's shadow, began to shine in front of the cameras, capitalizing on the media attention to demand justice for Liz.

The Prosecution's first objective was to dismantle Jake's public image as an all-American sports legend. Candace had decided against calling the stripper to the stand. Given that Sanders had sold her story for personal gain and was employed as an exotic dancer, the Defense would easily destroy her on cross-examination.

However, the Prosecutor's office was soon inundated with phone calls from women all over the country. Apparently, it was not unusual for the Diamondback players to celebrate their last night in a city by taking strippers back to their hotel rooms for a night of no-strings sex.

“It's weird they all came forward at the same time,” Lauren commented to Boyd on the way to the courthouse that morning.

“I know,” Boyd agreed. “It's like the floodgates have broken, but I have a theory about that. Once Sanders went public, these women were pissed to find out there were others. Jake made each woman feel like she was special to him and they remained loyal to him until they realized they weren't unique. He always said something along the lines of ‘I've never done anything like this before, but you're so amazing.' And they all fell for his bullshit. Can you believe that?”

“Yeah…” Lauren said without hesitation, “…I can believe it.”

“I wasn't talking about you,” Boyd said. “Your situation was totally different.”

Jake's womanizing habit turned out to be good fortune for the Prosecution's case because it provided the necessary ammunition to destroy his golden boy persona.

Candace refused to call several women who had sold their stories because of their tainted credibility. However, plenty of others abided by Candace's requirement that they not speak to the media. Perhaps they genuinely wanted to assist justice or maybe they just realized their stories would be worth even more after they testified. Candace didn't mind when she lost a few to tabloid payouts because Jake was also getting lambasted in the court of public opinion.

In the end, the Prosecution verified Jake's dalliances with fifteen women when each mentioned Jake was not well endowed. Candace continued her case by calling these witnesses, eliciting graphic testimony about their sexual encounters with Jake. The Defense asked a few derisive questions of each woman about her chosen occupation before summarily dismissing them. After the first four women testified, the Defense stipulated to Jake's extramarital affairs with eleven additional women. Candace was disappointed; she would have preferred to parade Jake's procession of women in front of the jury. Jake appeared determined to avoid having his small penis size introduced in open court.

“So his pride is more important than his Defense against murder charges?” Lauren asked.

“Apparently. Rumor has it he told his lawyers he won't be satisfied with an acquittal.” Candace made a face. “He also expects his lawyers to rehabilitate his public image.”

Chapter Thirty-six

(Friday, September 1)

Candace called Kathryn Montgomery, the executive advisor for the Arizona Chapter of MADD, the same woman who had presented Liz's award almost a year earlier. Tall with neatly styled short auburn hair, she wore a gray dress adorned with a small red MADD pin.

Under Candace's careful questioning, Kathryn described her friendship with Liz, which had blossomed over their collaboration on charity work. They shared the common bond of losing loved ones to drunk drivers, Kathryn having lost her twin sister. Over several years of working together on various fundraisers, Liz had gradually opened up to Kathryn.

According to Kathryn, Liz had become unhappy in her marriage. Having confronted Jake about his infidelities shortly before her death, Jake had become increasingly controlling, preventing Liz from talking to anybody outside of their close circle of baseball friends.

Lauren was pained by this testimony. She already felt remorseful about not spending more time with Liz. Lauren had simply believed their busy lifestyles were prohibitive. Had the infrequency of their interactions actually been the result of something uglier?

Kathryn testified, “Liz disclosed more and more disturbing information about Jake's behavior.”

“And then what happened?” Candace asked.

“Finally I got up the nerve to ask Liz if Jake had ever hit her and…”

“Objection, hearsay.”

“… she admitted he had.” Kathryn forced out the rest before Judge Robles could rule on the objection.

Judge Robles called for a sidebar. The attorneys approached the judge's bench for a whispered conversation outside of earshot of the jury, the television cameras, and the courtroom spectators.

Candace looked grim as the sidebar broke up.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” Judge Robles said. “Ms. Montgomery has been offering testimony about things Elizabeth Wakefield told her. This is called hearsay testimony, which is not admissible in court. I am going to strike all of Ms. Montgomery's testimony thus far from the record and you are reminded not to consider this testimony in your deliberations.”

Candace composed herself. “Ms. Montgomery, when was the last time you spoke to Liz Wakefield?”

“She called me from her cell on the afternoon of Friday, July twenty-second. She was excited as she told me ‘I finally did it.'”

“Objection, non-responsive,” Pratt interjected.

“Sustained. The witness is directed to answer only the question posed.”

“It was Friday, July twenty-second, at about 4:35 in the afternoon,” Kathryn said.

“What was her demeanor on the phone?”

“Objection, speculation,” Pratt interrupted.

“Overruled, the witness may answer.”

“She was excited and happy and relieved,” Kathryn responded.

Lauren knew what the jury did not. Liz had called Kathryn to tell her she had hired a divorce attorney. However, most of that conversation would not be admissible under the hearsay exclusion. Candace was trying to help the jury put the pieces together.

“Before you ended the conversation, did you make plans to speak to Liz again?”

“Yes, she said she would call me Saturday night as soon as her husband left the house.”

“And, Ms. Montgomery, did Liz Wakefield call you as she had promised?”

“No.” Kathryn Montgomery's composure crumbled as her voice quivered, “I never spoke to her again.”

“No more questions for this witness,” Candace said.

Pratt approached the witness stand. “Ms. Montgomery, did you ever observe Jake and Elizabeth Wakefield together?”

“No, but…”

“No more questions.”

Kathryn Montgomery was excused from the stand without having shared the pertinent secrets she knew about the Wakefield marriage.

Court recessed for lunch. Lauren and Boyd traversed the pedestrian tunnel that connected the court building to the County Attorney's office. They joined the prosecutors in the war room, which allowed them a place to strategize in between court sessions.

Candace was pacing the room like a caged tiger. Kathryn Montgomery sat nearby, looking discouraged.

“Damn it,” Candace said. “I needed your testimony to establish motive. This case is going to be a helluva lot harder to prove without it. Tell us again what Liz told you.”

“After Liz confronted Jake about the infidelity, he clamped down on her. His precious image would be tarnished if she left him. He threatened to kill her if she ever left. To her credit, that didn't stop her from trying. She had it all planned out. She consulted with a divorce attorney on Friday, July twenty-second, and planned to move out on Saturday as soon as Jake left town. She also planned to file for a restraining order and have him served with it at the airport when he returned from D.C. I offered to let her stay with me, but she planned to get her own place and said she could crash with Lauren for a few days if necessary.”

“But why didn't she ever tell me any of this?” Lauren asked, the hurt obvious in her tone.

“Things were unfolding pretty quickly. She had only just found out about the affairs. She didn't want to tell you on the phone because Jake was tracking her cell phone and computer usage.”

“But she called you on the phone.”

“Yes, but she kept it really brief. We were working on a fundraiser together so she didn't think that Jake would get worried about a quick phone call to me. But an extended phone call to you…”

Candace believed Jake had discovered Liz's plan to leave him and killed her in a fit of rage, clumsily attempting to cover up the crime as a burglary. Liz's disclosures to Kathryn provided the Prosecution's entire theory about Jake's motive. Candace had intentionally scheduled Kathryn's direct testimony for Friday, hoping her disclosures about Jake would marinate in the jurors' minds over the long Labor Day weekend. But the hearsay ruling had ruined that plan.

Candace was fit to be tied, “Damn it all to hell!”

“We knew it was a long shot, but it wasn't all for nothing,” Kyle reassured. “The jury still heard Kathryn say Jake hit Liz. They won't forget that, even though the judge told them to.”

Lauren was lost in her own thoughts.

“Are you all right?” Detective Boyd asked her.

“Why didn't I pick up on the fact that Liz was being abused? If I hadn't been so busy with work, would Liz have shared her troubles with me? Maybe things could have been different.”

“You can't think like that,” Boyd told her. “You'll drive yourself crazy. Don't let the what-ifs get the best of you. Liz's death is not your fault. It's Jake's fault.”

Chapter Thirty-seven

(Friday afternoon, September 1)

Candace and Kyle launched into crisis mode. Which witness could they call on short notice to do serious damage before the long weekend?

They contacted the divorce attorney Liz had hired. He wasn't scheduled to testify until the following week.

Kyle hung up the phone. “It's a miracle. He's available and agreed to be here by one o'clock.”

“That's great news, but it's no miracle,” Candace remarked. “He probably just ordered his secretary to clear his schedule. This trial is the best publicity money can buy.”

Ronald Bourk was a reasonably good prosecution witness. He refused to disclose details Liz had shared with him, citing attorney-client privilege. However, he confirmed Liz had hired him on the afternoon of Friday, July twenty-second, paying his retainer of twenty-five thousand dollars with a personal check.

“Mr. Bourk,” I know you can't comment on Liz Wakefield's case specifically, but can you tell the court what kind of law you practice?” Candace asked.

“Family law.”

“And what kinds of cases are included in family law?”

“Divorce and child custody cases, primarily.”

“So you're a divorce lawyer?”

“Objection,” Pratt said. “Ms. Keene is putting words in the witness' mouth.”

“Sustained.”

Candace switched gears. “Mr. Bourk, do you happen to have one of your business cards with you?”

“Yes.” He reached into his pocket.

Pratt was on his feet. “Objection! Does the Prosecution plan to introduce this into evidence without prior notice?”

“Your Honor,” Candace argued. “We are merely attempting to establish what kind of law Mr. Bourk practices. I thought his business card might shed some light on his specialty.”

Judge Robles' eyes smiled, but his face remained impassive. “Ms. Keene, you haven't seen his business card before this moment?”

“No, Your Honor.”

“I'll allow it.”

Bourk handed his card to Candace, who glanced at it before returning it to him. “Mr. Bourk, can you read the top two lines aloud for the record, please?”

“Ronald M. Bourk, J.D., Divorce Attorney.”

“You identify yourself as a divorce attorney?”

“That's correct.”

“Mr. Bourk, you testified Elizabeth Wakefield paid you with a personal check on July twenty-second. Do you remember what date you deposited that check?”

“Yes, I deposited it that same afternoon.”

Although Bourk was obscure about his conversation with Liz, the significance of his testimony was clear. Liz had hired a divorce attorney the day before she was bludgeoned to death.

“Mr. Bourk, have you ever met the defendant in this case?”

Bourk glanced uncomfortably in Jake's direction. “Yes.”

“Under what circumstances?”

“He made an appointment with me on August fifth of last year.”

“And what was the purpose of that appointment?”

Bourk looked uncomfortable, but he could not assert client-attorney privilege. Jake hadn't hired him.

“He asked me to refund the money his wife paid me.”

“And how did you respond?”

“I refunded the money.”

“Why?”

“Because I was no longer needed to represent Mrs. Wakefield.”

“So Jake was spared expensive divorce proceedings by Liz Wakefield's untimely death?”

“Objection,” Pratt bellowed. “The Prosecution is providing testimony in the form of her questions.”

“Sustained,” Judge Robles raised his eyebrows at Candace in silent warning.

“I'll rephrase the question. Mr. Bourk, how did you know you were no longer needed to represent Mrs. Wakefield?”

“Because she had been murdered.”

Candace was satisfied. “No more questions, Your Honor.”

At the Defense table, Pratt stood. Although he was short and stout, he managed to look imposing with his expensive suit and haughty demeanor. The dark bags underneath his hooded eyes suggested he had been putting in late hours. He cleared his throat phlegmatically. “Good afternoon, Mr. Bourk.”

“Good afternoon, Counsel.”

“Since your business card identifies you as a divorce attorney, does that mean you can only represent divorce cases?”

“No.”

“You're free to take on other types of cases?”

“Yes.”

“For example, if a client wanted to hire you to assist her in filing an order of protection against her own sister, you could take that case, couldn't you?”

“Yes, I could.”

“No more questions, Your Honor,” Pratt returned to his seat, smiling.

Candace stood up. “Mr. Bourk, over the past year, how many cases have you represented that were not divorce cases?” Candace was taking a gamble.

Bourk didn't even pause. “None.”

“So you know a fair amount about divorce law in Arizona?”

“Yes.”

“If a man is worth ten million dollars and he gets divorced in Arizona, how much can he expect to lose to his wife in the divorce?”

“Objection, irrelevant,” Pratt was putting up a good fight.

“I'll allow it,” Judge Robles ruled.

“Arizona is a community property state so he can expect to lose half of what he accrued during the marriage.”

“And do divorcing men enjoy the idea of handing over half of their net worth to their soon to be ex-wives?”

Bourk chortled, “No ma'am, they do not.”

“One more question, Mr. Bourk. What time did Liz Wakefield leave your office on July twenty-second?”

“Let's see. Her appointment started at three-thirty and lasted about an hour. She left my office about four-thirty.”

“Just five minutes before 4:35?” Candace asked suggestively. She was stating the obvious, but Candace wanted to remind the jury that Liz had called Kathryn Montgomery in a jubilant mood shortly after leaving Bourk's office.

“Objection, irrelevant.” Pratt's face was scarlet. “The State is trying to provide testimony in the form of a question.”

“Sustained.”

Candace grinned. “No more questions for this witness.”

Pratt declined re-cross, Bourk was excused, and court adjourned for the week.