“I suppose it does have a little more room inside.”
“A lot more room inside.”
“Okay, a lot more. Just promise you’ll think about it.”
Jackie paused for a moment. “Okay, I’ve thought about it and the answer is still no.”
“No?”
“No.”
He drove in silence for a few minutes before Carl said, “I noticed the judge watching you a couple of times.”
“Did he?”
“I think he has a crush on you.”
Jackie giggled. “That’s not very flattering, he already has a wife.”
“Funny thing about husbands – most of them don’t ever stop looking at beautiful women.”
Jackie watched his mischievous eyes in the rearview mirror again. “The answer is still no.”
IN THE HOTEL SUITE, Jackie hurried to change into more casual clothing, and then sat next to Michael while they watched the portions of the video she asked to see. “I can’t figure out what the girls are talking about.”
Jackie smiled. “Melissa is afraid she is going to miss her five o’clock hair appointment.”
“Hair appointment?” Michael rewound the tape, and frowned when he realized Jackie was right. “I need more practice reading women’s lips, I guess.”
“You’ll catch on one of these days.”
“Jackie, I’m thinking of getting married.”
She didn’t take her eyes off the TV as the pictures of the DA and Livingston appeared side by side. “Already? You haven’t even asked the court reporter out yet.”
“I know, but she’s just my kind of lady. It means three hotel rooms instead of just two.”
“You’re thinking a court reporter would give up a cushy position like that, just to travel the world with the three of us?”
“I’m thinking what an asset she would be to the company. She can take notes a whole lot faster than we can.”
“With the right equipment?” Jackie asked. “You’ve got a point. After this case is over, Carl and I will leave you here to carry out your pursuits. Keep in touch, okay?” She couldn’t help but glance at Michael’s well practiced about-to-cry expression. It made her laugh.
When the door opened, Carl came in with a tray of food. He set the tray on the edge, and then spread a boring dinner of ordinary sandwiches, chips, and coffee on the table.
Michael did not hide his disappointment well, but he carried on as if nothing was wrong. “So what did you think of the trial today?”
“I think it is going by very quickly,” Carl answered. “It looks to me like the DA covered all the forensic evidence the first day. What could possibly be left?”
Michael cleared his throat as if he was about to make a speech. “I know all about this sort of thing. From now on, the DA just has to tidy up the evidence a bit. Right now, he’s got a fingerprint and a deputy who says Lexi Hamilton says Barrett gave her the necklace. It isn’t enough for a conviction in my estimation. He has to have more if he expects to win.”
“I agree,” said Jackie. “It’s not nearly enough for a conviction.”
“Personally,” said Carl, “I don’t care if they hang him or not. All I want is to watch Miss Childers testify again. She is something else.”
The three of them discussed the trial while they ate, and then at precisely six forty-five, Carl went to a desk drawer, retrieved a card in a beat-up envelope and handed it to Michael. “Happy birthday, old man?”
Michael’s eyes lit up. “You remembered?” He pulled the aging card out of the envelope, opened it, and looked at all the crossed off names. There were only two names on the card – Carl and Michael. This time, Carl had crossed off Michael’s last entry and signed his...again. “Thank you, thank you,” Michael sarcastically said. “Next year, I’m buying you a new card.”
“That’s what you said last year and the year before that.”
Jackie stood up. “Come with me, Michael.”
Michael put his napkin in his plate and excitedly got to his feet. “We...you and me...are going somewhere alone...finally?”
She wrinkled her brow. “And leave Carl behind?”
Michael’s smile quickly faded. “Of course not.”
Carl playfully slapped his friend on the back. “I was going to buy you a cake, but we might run into turbulence.”
“We’re going flying?”
“Yep,” said Carl. “Grab your jacket. There’s a chopper on the roof waiting for us.”
“A chopper? Where we going?” Michael asked as he pulled his jacket out of the coat closet.
Jackie grinned. “I’m taking you to see Mt. St. Helens from the air.”
Michael quickly slipped into his coat and then helped Jackie with hers. “Really? The volcano that erupted a few years ago?”
“That’s the one. I read an article that says the mountain is building a new dome at the rate of something like fifteen feet a day.”
“No kidding? What does that do to the theory of evolution? It’s supposed to take millions of years to build a mountain.” A thrilled Michael followed Jackie and Carl out, closed and locked the door behind him.
“HOW DID YOU SLEEP LAST night?” Jackie asked as she stood in the aisle beside Holly at the front row of the courtroom. As she promised, Holly saved a seat for her.
Mark’s parents were already there, and unfortunately, Holly was sitting beside his mother. She got up and stepped into the aisle so Jackie could take her place, and then sat on the outside. “I slept much better, thank you.”
Already seated at the defense table, Livingston turned around when he heard Holly’s voice. He stood up and came toward her, reached in his inside jacket pocket, and pulled out a letter. “Mrs. Barrett, your husband asked me to give this to you.” He smiled, handed it to her, and then returned to his seat.
Holly stared at her name on the envelope for a long moment. Obviously upset, she was about to tear it up when Jackie put a hand on it to stop her. “What if it says who hired him?”
“He only wants money, as if I have any to give. You can read it if you want.”
“I don’t want to pry.”
“I assure you, there is nothing in there I want to know.” Holly urged Jackie to take it. “Go ahead.”
Jackie slipped her finger under the sealed lip of the envelope, opened it, and then unfolded the letter. She pretended the glaring light in the ceiling was too bright, moved the letter, and then positioned her necklace so Michael could see it. Across the aisle, Carl sat directly behind Slone Lockhart, with a recorder in his pocket, a microphone hidden in his cufflink and an earpiece identical to Jackie’s in his ear. While Jackie read in silence, Michael read it aloud.
Holly, today Lexi will testify. You have to know she means nothing to me and never did. It is you I love and always will. Mom set up an account for me here in the jail. Honey, the food is awful and there is never enough of it. They sell extra food through the commissary, but I don’t have any money except what Mom chipped in. That won’t last long. Maybe you could hock your wedding rings. I paid a fortune for those.
Love you, can’t wait to hold you in my arms again. Don’t worry, they won’t convict me. I’ll be home soon.
XOXOXO, Mark
“He wants money, right?” Holly asked as soon as Jackie folded the letter back up.
“Right,” Michael answered.
Jackie put it back in the envelope and then nodded.
“That’s what I thought.”
Just as Jackie started to hand the letter back, Holly’s mother-in-law leaned forward, snapped her fingers, and motioned for Holly to give the letter to her. Holly took the envelope, glared at Mark’s Mother, defiantly tore the letter in half, and shoved both pieces in her purse.
“Bravo,” Jackie whispered, as she watched the bailiffs bring the defendant in. She was starting to hate Mark too, but she dared not let it show, not that Mark would have noticed. He was happy to see his parents, but when he looked at his wife, he put on a little
puppy dog pout. Apparently, that had worked in the past, but it wasn’t working now. Holly refused even to look at him.
When court reconvened and the jury was brought back in, juror number four was missing.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” Judge Blackwell began after he took his place at the bench. “I remind you that you are not allowed to take notes either on paper, or by using any kind of recording device. Juror number four has been dismissed. Bailiff, please seat the first alternate in the jury box.”
“Looks like her tape recorder stopped working and that’s what she was fiddling with,” said Michael. “Carl and I tried to do a face recognition on her and came up with a possible match. We can’t be sure, but if we are right, juror number four writes crime novels. The court should have caught that, but people do tend to lie occasionally, especially if there is money in it.”
As soon as the alternate was seated, the judge said, “Gentlemen, let’s proceed. Mr. Davis, are you ready to call your next witness?”
“Yes, Your Honor. The state calls Alfred Smythe to the stand.”
Surprised, nearly half of the spectators turned to watch Alfred Smythe enter the room. Apparently, there was nothing about this witness in the newspapers or on TV. Several of the reporters scrambled to write down his name. Smythe’s appearance reminded Jackie a little of a computer nerd she once knew. He seemed a little rattled. It took him two tries to say ‘I do’ clearly enough for the clerk to accept it and tell him to be seated.
Davis tried to put his witness at ease. “Mr. Smythe, thank you for coming to talk to us today. Can you tell the court your full name and where you work?”
“My name is Alfred Smythe, Jr. and I work at Matt Hillman Internet Services.”
“What sort of business is that?”
“We build and maintain websites for businesses.”
“Is that the same company Mark Barrett worked for, before his arrest?”
“It is.”
“In June, 2012, did you share an office with Mr. Barrett?”
“Sort of. We have cubicles and mine was right across the aisle from Mark’s.”
“On the morning of June 10th, did you notice anything unusual about Mr. Barrett’s behavior?”
“I did.”
“For the jury, could you elaborate? Exactly how was he acting?”
“Well, he came to work late for one thing, and after he got there, he couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything.”
“Did you ask him what was wrong?”
“I did. He said he had a terrible fight with his wife.”
“I see. On June 18, 2012, were you there when the police came to arrest Mr. Barrett?”
“I was. He just kept saying, ‘I didn’t do anything.’”
“Did you believe him?”
“Not really?”
“Why not?”
“He was always lying to his wife over the phone.”
“Did Mr. Barrett ever mention Miss Lexi Hamilton?”
Alfred smirked. “He talked about her all the time?”
“About his affair with her?”
“Yes, He thinks he’s some kind of super stud.”
“Objection, Your Honor. The witness cannot know what Mr. Barrett thinks.”
“Sustained,” said the judge. “Move on, Counselor.”
“Mr. Smythe, have you ever seen Mark Barrett use a cellphone?”
“Yes. I didn’t know he had one. He even told me he didn’t, but then one day, it rang.”
“Do you recall when that was?”
“Not exactly, but it was before Mrs. Lockhart’s murder.”
“Do you know where it is now?”
“No, I didn’t see it after that.”
“I have no further questions,” said Davis.
Livingston slowly rose up. “Mr. Smythe, have you ever lied to your wife over the phone?”
Smythe sheepishly grinned. “Probably.”
“Thank you, I have no more questions.”
“I would never lie to my wife,” Michael said, “if I had one, which I don’t.”
Jackie ignored him. The juror with the thick glasses seemed a bit preoccupied. Maybe he’d been doing a little lying over the phone to his wife too. Funny how something that seems so harmless at the time, can be turned against you in a court of law.
Glad to have it over with, the witness quickly left the stand and walked out.
“THE PEOPLE CALL LEXI Hamilton.”
Holly caught her breath and turned to watch as the tall, slender, Lexi Hamilton came into the courtroom. The mistress didn’t look at the wife, as she opened the little gate, took the oath, and stepped into the witness box.
“Wow, she’s not nearly as pretty as Holly,” Michael said. “Mark Barrett is dumber than even the DA said.”
Jackie giggled.
“What?” Holly asked.
“I was just thinking about something one of my assistants said this morning. I wonder what those two are up to,” Jackie answered.
“Uh oh,” Michael whispered, “Busted.”
While the DA walked to the lectern, Holly asked, “Do you often have trouble with your assistants?”
“No, usually they are on top of things, but sometimes they get a little distracted.”
Holly turned her attention to Lexi. “She’s the mistress.”
“I thought so,” Jackie whispered back. “Mark prefers blondes, it seems.”
“I noticed that too.”
Davis looked at Lexi and smiled. “Good morning, Miss Hamilton.”
“Good morning.”
“Miss Hamilton, do you recognize anyone in this courtroom?”
“I recognize two people,” she answered.
Her answer seemed to catch the DA a little off guard, but he quickly recovered. “Miss Hamilton, do you know who Mark Barrett is?”
“I do.”
“Could you point him out for the record?” Davis paused while his witness pointed. “Let the record show that the witness is pointing to the defendant, Mr. Mark Barrett.”
“So ordered,” said the judge.
“Miss Hamilton, approximately how long had you known the defendant before he was arrested?”
“Just a few months.”
“Where did the two of you first meet?”
“Where I work.”
“Where do you work?” Davis asked.
“At the Simpson Bar and Grill.”
“After you first met, was Mark Barrett a regular visitor to your apartment?”
“He was.”
“How often would you say he came to see you?”
Lexi answered, “Once or twice a week.”
“Did he visit at a regular time of day, say after work, or did it vary?”
“It varied. Sometimes he came on his lunch break or right after work,” Lexi answered.
“Did he come in the evenings?”
“Not usually. I worked most evenings.”
“Would it be fair to say you were having an affair with Mark Barrett?”
The witness lowered her eyes. “Yes.”
“I’ve said it time and time again,” Michael said. “If you sleep with a married man, and you don’t want the world to know, you better make sure he doesn’t kill anyone.”
“On June 16th, did Mark Barrett give you a gift?”
“He did.”
“Was it wrapped up or in a box, like one would wrap a birthday present?”
“No, after we...” Lexi pause to take a deep breath. “I mean, he had it in his pocket, I guess. He just put it around my neck.”
“What other gifts did you receive from Mr. Barrett?”
“None. That was the only one he ever gave me.”
“Was it a special occasion?” Davis asked.
“No.”
“Did the necklace look expensive?”
“I thought it was fake. You know, made with simulated diamonds.”
“Did he tell you where he got the necklace?”
“He said he bought it for me with money he won gambling.”
“I see,” said Davis. “Now, did Mr. Barrett come to your house anytime on the 9th of June?”
“No.”
“Are you certain?”
“I am. I went to the mountains with a friend that week.”
“You were not home the week Mrs. Lockhart was murdered, is that correct?”
“That is correct.” Lexi still hadn’t looked at Holly and only looked at Mark when she pointed him out.
“When did you return from your week in the mountains?”
“Saturday, the 13th.”
“And that was the day Mr. Barrett gave you the necklace?”
“That’s right.”
“Do you remember anything unusual about the way he was acting that day?”
“Well, it took a long time that day. He seemed nervous and wasn’t in the mood or something, so we drank wine until he was feeling better.”
“How was he dressed that day?”
“In his usual Saturday golfing outfit.”
“Did you happen to notice what shoes he was wearing?”
“I did. He usually wore his blue slip-on shoes, but that day, he wore regular white tennis shoes.”
“By regular, do you mean the kind that lace up?”
“Leading the witness, Your Honor,” Livingston complained.
“Sustained.”
“I’ll withdraw the question.” Davis took a moment to consult his notes. “Did you happen to ask him where his blue shoes were?”
“No.”
“About what time did he arrive that Saturday?”
“Around two o’clock in the afternoon.”
“Did you spend the whole afternoon together?”
“We did. He gave me the necklace and then left.”
“How did you discover the necklace was the one belonging to Mrs. Lockhart?”
“Well,” Lexi began, “the papers and the news channels were full of talk about the murder and I was curious, so I looked Mrs. Lockhart up on the Internet. I found a picture of her giving a check to an orphanage at some sort of gala, and she was wearing the necklace. I freaked out.”
“When you freaked out, what did you do?”
“I called Deputy Musgrave and asked him to come over and look at it.”
In the audience, a cellphone suddenly rang. The judge instantly glared, both the attorneys turned around to see whom it was, and the bailiff in the back headed toward the offender.
Greed and a Mistress Page 11