“He loved it. He was always doing things to help out,” she said and looked at the audience. “All of you know that. He was always the first to volunteer for any work detail.”
“Excellent. Now, let’s go to the night of the party. You were there, correct?”
“Yeah, me and Jesse,” she said.
“How many people were there attending the party?”
She thought a second. “Eight altogether. Four men and four women.”
“It’s my understanding that there was alcohol and marijuana usage, is that correct?” Connie asked.
Mary did not hesitate. “Yeah, there was. We have parties occasionally. There’s not much else to do in the way of recreation, unless you like to play horseshoes or bingo.”
“I understand,” Connie said. “Now, there were four males and four females. Was everyone in a relationship?”
“I can’t speak for everyone, but me and Jesse are in a relationship. It’s no secret.”
“What about Dalton? Was he there with a date?”
“He came to the party alone, if that’s what you’re asking, but he and Hermione sat together most of the night and I saw the two of them leave together.”
“Mary, this is very important—did anything occur that led you to believe Hermione did not leave willingly with Dalton?”
“Not at all. In fact, they had been going at it pretty hard, you know, making out, and later on she had him by the hand and was practically dragging him out of the party.”
Rochelle jumped to her feet. “Objection! This girl is lying!”
Seth stared at Rochelle. “Do you have a legal basis for your objection, Counselor?”
Rochelle appeared indignant. “She’s lying!”
“If that is the sole reason for your objection, it is overruled. You may challenge the veracity of her statement during your cross-examination, if you choose to do so.”
There were a few snickers in the audience. Connie shook his head slightly and then continued.
“Did you talk to Dalton at any point after the party?” he asked.
“Yeah, a few times.”
“Did he have anything to say regarding Hermione?”
“He just said they hooked up, but he didn’t seem to think much of it,” she said, which caused Rochelle to jump to her feet again. Before she had a chance to say anything, Seth held up a finger.
“Miss Wilson, you are not allowed to tell the court your opinion. Just stick to answering the questions posed before you.”
“Yes, sir,” Mary said. Rochelle scowled at Mary before slowly sitting back down.
Seth then turned to the jury. “As jurors, you are to base your decision on the facts given. Everyone here has an opinion about this matter. Those opinions are not relevant, only the facts.” He then turned to Connie. “Please continue.”
“Alright, so Dalton admitted to being with Hermione, correct?”
“Yeah,” she answered.
“Did he say whether or not the two of them had sex?”
“Well, no, but when he said they hooked up, I assumed he meant the two of them had sex,” Mary said.
“At some point, a rumor began that Dalton had raped Hermione on that night, is that correct?”
“Yeah. I don’t remember who first told me, but it didn’t take long before everyone was talking about it.”
“What did you do, if anything?” Connie asked.
“The first time I heard it, I went to Dalton immediately and confronted him,” she said.
“Alright, when you confronted him, did the two of you engage in a conversation?”
“Yeah.”
“As a result of that conversation, did he say anything that would lead you to believe he in fact raped Hermione Fleming?”
Mary turned to the jury and stared. “Hell no. Dalton Pentecost never raped anyone in his entire life. He was a good man and he was my friend.”
Rochelle loudly objected and Seth directed both attorneys to approach. There was a hushed conversation and it was obvious Rochelle was pissed. When they returned to their respective tables, Connie stood and looked at his notes on his laptop a moment before speaking again.
“Two more questions. After the party, when is the next time you saw Dalton?”
“The next day at lunch,” she answered. “About noonish.”
“Did you observe any physical injuries on him?”
Again, Mary looked directly at the jury. “Dalton strolled into lunch looking hungover. He was wearing cargo shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt. I didn’t see a mark on him, other than a bunch of hickeys on his neck.”
“No further questions,” Connie said and sat down.
“Your witness,” Seth said to Rochelle. Rochelle stood and walked over to the podium.
“You’re a liar, aren’t you, little girl?” she declared.
This time, Connie jumped to his feet. “Objection. Counsel is badgering the witness.”
“Sustained. Counsel, you will refrain from using any deprecating remarks in this courtroom.”
Rochelle responded with a smirk. “Did you go back to the room with Dalton and Hermione that night? The night of the party?”
“No,” Mary answered.
“In fact, you don’t know what happened in that room, do you?” Rochelle exclaimed.
“I know I’m not the one who gave him a neck full of hickeys,” Mary said.
The courtroom erupted in laughter and Seth had to bang his gavel several times. Rochelle was stunned at the way her question went against her and fuddled with her legal pad. I don’t know where she found it at; writing paper was scarce these days. After a full minute, Seth felt the need to speak up.
“Counselor, do you have any further questions of this witness?”
Apparently, she did.
“In fact, you didn’t see anything. You didn’t see my client fighting for his life from Dalton Pentecost, did you?” It was phrased like an accusation, as if Mary had done something wrong. Before Mary could say anything, Connie interjected.
“Objection! Beyond the scope, your honor.”
“Sustained,” Seth said.
Rochelle frowned. “Beyond the scope? What are you talking about? It was a legitimate question.”
Seth once again directed Rochelle and Connie to approach the bench. However, instead of whispering this time, he spoke loudly enough for some of us to hear.
“Your cross-examination is limited to what the witness testified to in direct examination, Counselor. Didn’t they teach you that in law school?”
Instead of responding, Rochelle turned and stomped back to her table. Her face was so red I thought she was going to burst a vessel or two.
“Will there be any further questions of this witness, Counselor?” Seth asked. He was trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
“No, Judge,” Rochelle said and sat down.
It went the same way for the next five witnesses who were the participants of the party. Connie asked succinct, straightforward questions, and Rochelle’s cross-examination was disjointed and filled with ridiculous theatrics. Despite Rochelle’s antics, all the witnesses’ testimony closely resembled Mary’s.
Seth broke for an early lunch and court resumed an hour later. Everyone knew what was coming; the witness who everyone was waiting for.
“Hermione Fleming, come forth and give testimony!” Priss shouted with a hint of malicious glee in her voice.
Chapter 23 – Hermione Fleming
Hermione entered the courtroom and all eyes fixated on her like she was a sideshow act in a traveling circus. She stopped when she entered and looked around nervously. I almost felt sorry for her. Ruth got her attention and motioned her forward.
She was average looking; a nondescript face with a hint of acne and plain brown hair. She was a slender girl but endowed with large breasts. I mean, those things were big enough to jiggle under her shirt when she walked. For some odd reason, it reminded me of the author, Kurt Vonnegut. He once pointed out that auth
ors always describe a woman’s breasts in their novels, but they never describe a man’s genitals.
Well, anyway, for a petite girl, she had big breasts.
Ruth directed her to a spot to stand whereupon she swore her in. When Hermione said, “I do,” Ruth directed her to sit. Connie stood and offered the same warm smile he gave Mary earlier.
“Good afternoon. Please state your name for the record,” he said.
“Hermione Fleming,” she answered somewhat timidly.
“And how old are you, Hermione?”
“Sixteen.”
“Please tell us a little bit about yourself, Hermione. How did you grow up and how did you end up at Marcus Hook?”
“Um, I don’t remember a lot about the zombie apocalypse. I mean, I do but I don’t. I remember people going crazy and Clay locking us up in the upstairs of our house. We stayed hidden in there for a while. I don’t know how long, and I don’t remember exactly how we ended up at Marcus Hook. I was told stories, but I don’t remember it all. All I remember was being scared and hungry all the time.”
Connie nodded somberly, much like a father would. “Would it be fair to say that living at Marcus Hook is the root of most of your memories?”
“Yes, sir. I mean, I remember little things about my childhood—I won the spelling bee in second grade, I remember things like that—but it all seems so long ago.”
“How do you like Marcus Hook?” he asked.
Hermione shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess.” She paused for a couple of seconds. “It can be boring sometimes.”
Connie again offered an understanding smile. “I suppose it could for a teenager. In fact, one way to alleviate boredom is the occasional party, would I be correct?”
She looked like Connie was somehow trying to trap her but answered anyway. “Yes, sir. I guess so.”
“And on May twenty-ninth, a few of you had a little party to celebrate a couple of birthdays, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you know Dalton Pentecost pretty well before the party?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And during the party, the two of you hung out together, correct?”
“Yeah, I guess so. I mean, we were all hanging out together,” Hermione said.
“I understand, but would it be fair to say that you and Dalton were hitting it off?” he asked.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“The two of you went back to his room, correct?”
“Yes.” She tried to give a defiant stare but couldn’t do it.
“What happened next, Hermione?” Connie asked.
Hermione tried for the defiant stare a moment longer before hanging her head and refused to answer. Connie resumed his worried father expression.
“Alright, that’s okay. I’ll drop that question, but the next question I’m afraid you must answer. Did you at any time tell Clay Fleming you were raped by Dalton Pentecost?”
“Um, no, not really,” she answered.
“Did he ask you if you had been raped?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you answer him?” he asked.
“Um, I kind of mumbled something, I don’t remember exactly what I said.”
Connie paused a moment. I think he was waiting for her to further explain her answer. When she did not, he continued.
“What happened when that conversation transpired?” he asked.
“He got really mad and made me go with him to see Dalton.”
“You two found Dalton in his room, correct?”
“Yes, sir,” she answered.
“Clay pounded on the door and Dalton answered, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you were there when Clay confronted Dalton, would that be a correct statement?” Connie asked.
“Yeah, I guess so,” she answered.
“Tell the court what happened when Clay confronted Dalton,” Connie directed.
“Um, Clay pounded on the door. When Dalton answered, um, Clay got in his face and accused him of raping me.”
“How far apart were they?” Connie asked.
“I don’t know, real close. Maybe a foot apart. Or less.”
“What happened next?”
“Dalton got mad. He looked at me and called me a liar.”
Connie pressed it. “Then what happened?”
“He tried to push Clay away and shut the door.”
“Keep going, please. What happened when Dalton tried to shut the door?”
Hermione hung her head and after several seconds, Seth had to tell her to answer the question.
“There was a scuffle or something and Dalton got stabbed,” she finally said.
“Did your stepfather, Clay Fleming, stab Dalton Pentecost?”
She refused to look up. “Yes,” she murmured.
“Let the record reflect that the witness replied yes to the question,” Seth said.
Loud murmuring broke out in the courtroom and Seth had to bang his gavel several times. Priss even walked down the aisle and called individuals out by name and admonishing them to shut up or she would kick them out.
I was watching Hermione closely, and I had to admit, her entire testimony seemed sincere, but I wasn’t feeling a whole lot of sympathy.
“One last question, Hermione. Did Dalton have any type of weapon on him?” Connie asked.
Rochelle jumped to her feet. “Objection! This little girl didn’t search the victim—I mean Dalton. She has no idea if Dalton had a weapon.”
“Sustained,” Seth said.
Rochelle smirked like she’d scored a major victory and sat back down with a loud plop.
Connie was nonplussed. “Did you see a weapon on Dalton or in his hands?”
Hermione looked up and made eye contact with Clay before she responded.
“No, sir.”
“No further questions,” Connie said and sat down.
Rochelle jumped to her feet. “Why don’t you tell the truth?” she demanded.
Hermione did not answer. Rochelle continued.
“Your stepfather was protecting you and this is all you have to say?”
Again, she did not answer. Rochelle tried a different tact.
“So, the two of you went to Dalton’s room to confront him about raping you, is that right?”
Hermione answered now. “Yes.”
“And Dalton called you a liar, right?”
“Yes.”
“Your stepfather is very protective of you, isn’t that right?” Rochelle asked.
Hermione shrugged. “I guess so.”
“In fact, he was protecting you from Dalton Pentecost on that fateful evening,” Rochelle proclaimed. “The young man raped you and then when the two of you confronted him, he became enraged and called you a liar. He was going to attack you, wasn’t he?”
Hermione looked around in growing anxiety. “I don’t know. I guess so.”
“And your father was protecting you.”
“I guess so,” she said weakly. Then, she did something that was totally unexpected. She gazed over at Clay as tears rolled down her eyes. “You didn’t have to kill him!”
The audience erupted. Seth banged his gavel repeatedly.
“Mistrial! Mistrial!” Rochelle shouted. “I demand a mistrial!”
I looked over at my erstwhile friend, Connie. He leaned back in his chair, trying without success to hide a smug grin. He had this trial won and he knew it. Seth banged his gavel and called an immediate recess.
The trial resumed thirty minutes later, but by now it was merely a formality. Clay testified on his own behalf. His testimony was well scripted, but on cross-examination, Connie made mincemeat out of him.
The final arguments were about the same as the opening statements. Connie was calm, cool, and direct. Rochelle was a raving drama queen. Closing arguments ended at fourteen hundred hours. Seth read off instructions to the jury and then they were sent out to deliberate. As soon as the last juror exited the room, everyone started t
alking.
I walked around and conversed with the people from Marcus Hook. Except for Dalton’s murder, everything seemed to be going well, which was a good sign. There were few comments about the flyers being circulated around, which I took to be a good sign.
Priss passed along a message from the jury to Judge Kitchens less than an hour later. Seth called the court to order and announced there was a verdict forthcoming. Once everyone was seated and settled, he called the jurors back in. The courtroom was deathly silent. Seth waited until all of them were seated before speaking.
“Madam Foreperson, have you reached a verdict?”
The foreperson was Lois Marnix. She and her husband, Norman, had been at Mount Weather since the beginning. I liked them a lot.
“We have, your honor,” she declared.
“Will the defendant please rise,” Seth ordered.
Clay did so, slowly, reluctantly. His knees were wobbly, and he held onto the chair for support. Rochelle watched a moment before realizing she needed to stand along with her client and pushed herself out of the chair. Seth then focused back on the jury.
“Madam Foreperson, please read the verdict aloud to the court.”
“We find the defendant, Clay Fleming, guilty of murder.”
Clay’s body went rigid and then dropped down into his seat. The courtroom burst into a cacophony of conversations. Seth banged his gavel.
“Order!” he shouted, followed by more banging. It had little effect. “I am ready to pass sentence, if you knuckleheads will shut up!”
Only then did everyone become quiet. Seth gave them all an admonishing stare and was about to deliver the sentence when Rochelle felt she needed to speak.
“Your Honor, I demand to be heard!” she shouted.
“Senator, you have done nothing to help your client. Anything you say at this point will only prove to be detrimental. Have a seat.”
There were a few chuckles in the audience. Seth shut them up with another harsh glare and a bang of his gavel.
“Will the defendant please stand,” Seth directed.
Clay had buried his face in his hands, and he was taking deep breaths. I honestly thought he was going to pass out. When Seth spoke to him, he put his hands on the table in front of him to help him stand.
“Clay Fleming, you have been found guilty of murder as defined by Title Eighteen, United States Code One-One-One-One, by a jury of your peers. Do you desire to make a statement before I proceed?”
Zombie Rules (Book 7): The Fifteens Page 14