One Summer
Page 26
“Opposing counsel just now gave me these documents. I asked him if he would not contest an extension on the hearing date, but he refused.”
“What’s in those documents?” Jack asked.
“I haven’t had a chance to read them, but I’ve glanced at a few pages. Your mother-in-law apparently has had a private detective follow you this summer.” She pointed to the other man holding the laptop. “That guy.”
“What?” said a shocked Jack.
“That is, like, totally insane,” added Mikki.
Jack gazed nervously at him. “What’s he got on the laptop?”
“Apparently some video they intend to show the judge.”
“Video? Of what?”
“I don’t know.”
“I didn’t think they could do stuff like this,” said Sammy. “Surprise the other side with crap.”
“Normally they can’t. But this is family court. The rules are different. Everything is supposed to be done with the best interests of the children in mind. That sometimes trumps official procedures. And they’re alleging that the children are in an unsafe and even dangerous environment.”
“That’s poppycock,” said Charles.
“And we’ll show it,” promised Jenna. She had previously gone over with them the questions she would ask and what questions to expect the other side to throw at them.
A moment later, the bailiff announced the entrance of the judge. He turned out to be a small, thin, balding man, with thick spectacles, named Leroy Grubbs.
They rose on his entrance and then took their seats. The case was called, and Bonnie’s lawyer, Bob Paterson, rose. But Jenna cut him off and asked the court for an extension, citing the late delivery of crucial documents. This was denied by Grubbs almost before Jenna finished speaking.
Paterson made his opening statement.
“Fine. Call your witnesses,” said Grubbs.
The lawyer said, “Bonnie O’Toole.”
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Bonnie was sworn in and sat down in the witness box.
“You’re the children’s grandmother?” asked Paterson.
“Yes.”
“Can you lead us through the series of events leading up to your filing this legal action?”
Bonnie spoke about Jack’s illness, her daughter’s death, Jack being in hospice, the children living with relatives, and Jack’s recovery and his taking the children back. And, finally, she described her offer to have them all live with her because of her concerns, after consulting with doctors, that Jack’s illness would most assuredly come back with fatal results.
“And what was Mr. Armstrong’s response to your offer?”
“He categorically refused it.”
“And what specific event prompted you to have your son-in-law put under surveillance?”
“I saw Jack beating up two men on the street in Channing, South Carolina, in broad daylight while his children were with him. The youngest, Jackie, was bawling his eyes out. It was awful. It was like Jack had lost his mind. I don’t know if it was a symptom of the disease coming back or not, but I was terrified and I could tell the children were too.”
The lawyer finished with Bonnie, and Jenna rose.
“Mrs. O’Toole, do you love your grandchildren?”
“Of course I do.”
“And yet you seek to separate them from their father?”
“For their own good.”
“And not to punish Mr. Armstrong?”
“No, of course not.”
“So you’re not angry with your son-in-law? You don’t blame him for your daughter’s death?”
“I’ve never blamed him. I told him that I knew it was an accident.”
“But did you really believe that? Didn’t you tell Mr. Armstrong that you thought he should be dead and not your daughter?”
Bonnie pursed her lips and remained silent.
“Mrs. O’Toole?”
“I’ve tried to move past that.”
“But you still harbor resentment toward him?”
“I don’t think so, no.”
“And that is partly the reason you’re filing for custody, for revenge?”
“Objection,” said Paterson. “The witness has said she harbors no resentment.”
“Withdrawn,” said Jenna. “No more questions.”
“Next witness,” said Grubbs.
Jack and the others were surprised to see Sheriff Nathan Tammie amble into the courtroom, not looking too happy about being there. He was sworn in, and Paterson took him through his paces as a witness.
“So you warned Mr. Armstrong on the occasion of the first assault he was involved in?”
“Yes, although I warned the other guys too. Apparently Mr. Armstrong was provoked.”
“And there was a second, more recent, assault involving Mr. Armstrong, was there not?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell us the circumstances?”
Tammie sighed, glanced at Jack, and explained the altercation in the alley.
“So, to sum up your testimony, Mr. Armstrong and Mr. Duvall were holding baseball bats in an alley, and three unconscious men were lying at their feet?” The lawyer glanced at the judge, presumably to gauge the man’s reaction. The judge was following the line of questioning very closely. “So you arrested Mr. Armstrong and his companion, Mr. Duvall?”
“Yes. But I arrested the other guys too.”
“But Mr. Armstrong will be going to court on these charges?”
“Yes.”
“Could he receive prison time?”
“I really doubt that—”
“Could he?”
“Well, yes.”
“No further questions.”
Jenna rose. “Sheriff Tammie, why didn’t you charge Mr. Armstrong on the first altercation?”
“Well, from the witness statements it was clear that he was provoked.”
Jenna glanced at Bonnie. “Provoked how?”
Tammie took out his notebook. “Three witnesses said that one of the guys Mr. Armstrong went after had yelled out something about him being the miracle man and they were willing to pay him five dollars to perform a miracle on him. And he said other stuff, trying to get Mr. Armstrong’s goat, I guess.”
“All directed at Mr. Armstrong personally?”
“Yes.”
“Did Mr. Armstrong attack at that point, when he was the subject of these statements?”
“No. He just kept walking along with his kids.”
“Go on.”
Tammie looked at his notes. “Then the same guy said, “Hey, Miracle, was it true your slutty wife was cheating on you? That why you came back from the dead?”
Jenna turned to look at Bonnie in time to see her glance sharply at Jack.
“And is that when Mr. Armstrong went after them? Because they insulted his deceased wife?”
“Yes.”
“So he exercised admirable restraint when the insults were only directed to him?”
“Probably more restraint than I would have exercised if it’d been me.”
“And the alleged second assault? Is it true that one of the men engaged in this assault was also the same man who was involved in the first altercation?”
“Yes.”
“So it could have been that these men attacked Mr. Armstrong in that alley and he was merely defending himself?”
“Objection,” said Paterson. “Calls for a conclusion that the witness is not qualified to give.”
“Sustained,” said Grubbs, but he looked curiously at Tammie and then over at Jack.
Jenna said, “No further questions.”
Paterson said, “I call Michelle Armstrong to the stand.”
As Mikki rose and moved forward, she stopped next to her dad. He gave her a reassuring smile and gripped her hand. “Just tell the truth, sweetie,” he said.
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“Ms. Armstrong?” said Paterson politely. “You had a number of conversations with your grandmother this summer, didn
’t you?”
Mikki looked at her father, but the lawyer moved to block her view. “You must answer my questions truthfully and not look to your father for instruction.”
Mikki took a deep breath. “Yes, I spoke with Grandma.”
“And what did you tell her about your father’s… um… actions during the summer?”
“I don’t understand the question.”
“All right. I mean with regards to the lighthouse, for instance.”
“Lighthouse?” said the judge.
Paterson addressed him. “It was apparently Mr. Armstrong’s deceased wife’s favorite place as a child, and he was spending most of the nights there.”
Jenna rose. “Objection. Mr. Paterson has not been sworn in as a witness, Your Honor, and has no personal knowledge of the situation.”
“All right,” said Grubbs. “Sustained.”
Paterson turned back to Mikki. “Your statements about the lighthouse? Can you tell the court please?”
Mikki fidgeted. “I just told her that Dad was working on the lighthouse, that’s all. It was no big deal.”
“Would he work out there late at night?”
“Yes.”
“With Mr. Duvall?”
“Yes.”
“Leaving you three children alone in the house?”
Mikki’s face grew hot. “I’m not a child. I’m sixteen.”
“All right, leaving you and your younger brothers alone in the house?”
“Sometimes, but nothing happened.”
“On the contrary, did you not tell your grandmother on at least three occasions that your younger brother, Jack Jr., got out of bed and once fell down the stairs?”
Jack looked shocked. He stared at Mikki. She swallowed hard. “But he was okay. Just a bruise on his back.”
“And on another occasion Jack Jr. wandered out of the house and you couldn’t find him for at least an hour? And he turned up walking down the street?”
Jack slumped back in his chair, totally flummoxed.
“Yes. But he was okay.”
“And did you tell your father about these incidents?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I… I didn’t want him to get upset.”
“Does he get upset often?”
“Well, I mean, no; no, he doesn’t.”
“Did you also tell your grandmother that your dad was obsessed with the house and the lighthouse because your deceased mother loved it so much there and he was trying to reconnect somehow with her?”
Mikki flushed a deep red and started breathing quickly. Tears trickled from her eyes. “I was mad at him; that’s why I said those things.”
“So they weren’t true? Remember you are under oath.”
Jenna rose. “Your Honor, counsel is badgering. I request a recess so the witness can compose herself.”
Grubbs looked at Mikki. “Are you all right?”
Mikki drew in a deep breath, wiped her eyes, and nodded. “I’m okay.”
“Proceed.”
Paterson continued. “And did you also tell your grandmother that your father had no clue how to run a family and didn’t seem to care about you and your brothers?”
Jack looked down.
Mikki teared up again. “That was before he changed.”
“Changed?”
Obviously flustered, Mikki started speaking too fast. “Yes, I mean he was like that before. No, I mean, not bad. He did love us. I mean he does love us. He takes great care of us.”
“But didn’t you also tell your grandmother that you were worried about your dad’s mental state?”
In a hushed voice Mikki said, “No, I don’t remember saying that.”
“So you’ve never seen your dad acting irrationally or even in a fit of rage?”
“No, never.”
Paterson turned to the man in the suit sitting next to Bonnie. “Mr. Drake, if you would?” The man rose and wheeled forward a TV on a rolling stand and slid a DVD into a player underneath the TV.
Paterson said to the judge, “Your Honor, Mr. Drake is a licensed private investigator hired by Mrs. O’Toole to keep watch over the Armstrong children. The video you’re about to see represents one of the results of this surveillance.”
The TV screen came to life, and they all watched as Jack came running out of the lighthouse carrying the crate. He smashed it on the rocks and then raced down to the beach, twisting and turning in what looked unmistakably like a fit of insane rage. Then he dropped to the sand and wept. The next image was Mikki creeping up to her father.
On Paterson’s cue the DVD was stopped, and he turned back to Mikki.
“You obviously saw your father that night?”
Mikki nodded.
“And you wouldn’t describe that behavior as irrational or even a fit of rage?”
“He was upset, but he got better.”
“So in your mind he was… sick?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” She stood. “You’re putting words in my mouth,” she cried out.
Grubbs said, “Young lady, I understand that this is very