Judge Weiner looked at Mark expectantly. “Any more witnesses, Mr. Kelly?”
He stood up. “No, Your Honor. The plaintiff rests, subject to admission of the exhibits.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Thursday March 26, 2015, 1845 Ocean Place, Pacific Beach
“I don’t think you have to worry,” Paul said that night at eight-thirty. Kathryn had called him to come over after she’d gotten home from court, her nerves on edge and her pulse racing. He refilled her glass with the French Bordeaux he had brought to go with the pepperoni pizza they had ordered from New York Pizza Kitchen. She was drinking more than usual.
“But he started questioning me about things only Shannon would have known.”
“What kinds of things?”
“Like how much beer Tom drank in a week. Whether he always drank after surfing. Whether Steve brought his girlfriends to our holiday parties.”
Paul shrugged. “Well, Shannon isn’t the only one who knows about your holiday parties and Steve’s dating habits. As for the rest of it, McLaren was just stabbing in the dark. You already know Wycliffe wants to claim alcohol destroyed Tom’s liver, not Myrabin. McLaren was hoping he’d get some facts out of you to support the defense theory. Actually, I’d be happy if I were you that McLaren went fishing. That means he doesn’t have the evidence he needs to back up his case.”
She gave him a weak smile. “I hope you’re right.”
“I’m absolutely right. What did Mark say about your performance?”
“He thought it went well. And Hugh did, too.
“How is Hugh? Sarah called today. She agreed to talk to him about taking his case.”
“I’m glad. I think he’s going to need her. He’s in denial. He thinks Hal Edwards is going to get the indictment withdrawn because he’s such a big campaign contributor.”
She thought about the emeralds in their box in the bottom of her jewelry chest and wondered if she should have agreed to accept them.
Paul shrugged. “It could happen. Word on the street says the whole thing is Logan’s doing. She and her boyfriend are far enough down the totem pole to have their plan foiled by the higher-ups. You look tired.”
“I am. Long day. They start their case tomorrow.”
“Who are they calling first?”
“Fred Butler, the head of the Myrabin approval team at the FDA. He’ll testify that the approval process was all routine and done correctly.”
Paul smiled. “That ought to put the jury to sleep.”
“Our main worry is that he’ll harp on Rick’s inability to name the number of post-approval deaths. We thought we’d have Harrison O’Connor or Mary Lancaster to give first-hand accounts of how many people have died since Myrabin was approved and to explain how the deaths were covered up. Harrison had told us there were at least six hundred. But we lost them both.”
“Wycliffe is desperate.”
“Except Harrison’s death has been ruled a suicide, and Mary and Leon Abromowitz were supposedly the victims of a botched robbery.”
I’ve been worried about you, too.”
“I’m fine.” Kathryn pointed to her Glock on the coffee table, next to the pizza box.
“I know you’re good with that thing,” Paul acknowledged, “but it’s no guarantee you’ll be safe. I wish you’d come stay with me until the trial is over.”
But she shook her head. “No. I have to be here. I feel Tom here. I can’t be anywhere else.”
“Please reconsider.”
“No.”
He sighed. “What about taking a trip together when this is all over?”
“Could you take the time away from work?”
“If Alan won’t give it to me, I’ll quit.”
“You wouldn’t do that!”
“I won’t have to. I’m long overdue for a vacation. I’ll have no problem getting the time off.”
Kathryn considered the idea as she sipped Bordeaux. “Where do you want to go?”
He smiled. “Somewhere we’ve never been before with anyone else. What about Tahiti?”
“Or the South of France.”
“You decide. But I’m completely serious, let’s go away together when it’s over. What do you say?”
“I’ll have to think about it.” He knew the question that was coming next, and he dreaded it. “When was the last time you saw Shannon?”
“Not since that night when you came by and her car was in the drive. A night I continue to regret, by the way. She called a few times after that; but I put her off, and then finally I told her the truth.”
“Which was?”
“Just what I told you. We were tired and lonely and drunk, and it was sex and nothing more. I told her I’m in love with you and always have been. And I told her I had problems with the way she’d treated you when Tom was alive.”
“What did she say?”
“Nothing. What could she say? She was wrong to go after Tom the way she did, especially while she was still living with Steve.”
“After the way McLaren questioned me today, I’m worried Wycliffe found her and talked to her about Tom and me.”
“There’s no way they could have. We’re the only ones who knew about that.”
She sipped wine thoughtfully for a minute. Then she said, “I keep racking my brain to make sure you’re right.”
“I’m right. I’m the only one Tom talked to about those letters.”
“But Shannon’s friends knew she moved out of Steve’s place in January of 2012.”
“True, but her friends didn’t know Shannon’s interest in Tom had anything to do with her move. Shannon realized Tom was very confused about what he wanted, and she knew he would break things off in a heartbeat if she told anyone they were a couple. Because they weren’t a couple, Kath. He wasn’t committed to her. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you: Tom wasn’t going to leave you.”
She was silent as she studied the medals in the case. The silence lengthened until he became uncomfortable. Paul poured the last of the Bordeaux into her glass to give himself something to do.
Finally he said, “You aren’t going to forgive me for not telling you about Shannon and Tom in the winter of 2012, are you?”
She shook her head impatiently and her eyes met his, dark and troubled. “I don’t know. I keep trying to forgive you. Part of me wants to forgive you, and part of me says I shouldn’t. The part of me that knows you are the only person left who knew Tom the way I did wants to forgive. But the part of me that says you betrayed me says I should never trust you again.”
Paul looked down at his own glass as disappointment cut his heart in two. “Look, I thought I was doing the right thing. I knew Tom wasn’t going to leave you because he loved you, and he didn’t love Shannon. I knew the whole Shannon thing was going to blow over, so why upset you needlessly? What good would it have done for me to tell you, Kath? What would you have done differently?”
“I would have fought harder to keep Tom!”
“But you didn’t have to fight to keep him. He was always yours!”
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Wednesday, April 1, 2015, Crown Manor, Coronado
Hugh’s cell rang at midnight as he was standing on the balcony of his bedroom, drinking scotch and staring at the Pacific. The ocean always calmed his nerves. He was waiting for a progress report from Hal Edwards. It had been three days since Edith had telephoned to say Hal was in negotiations with Liz Preston.
“Hey, old man!” Hal could have worked as an announcer with that voice.
“You’re up late.” Hugh felt as relieved as a teenage girl who’d been waiting for her boyfriend’s call.
“Presidents never sleep. That’s one of the downsides to the job. In case you’re ever tempted to run.”
“No thanks. Any news?”
“Liz has said she’s willing to work with me on it. She’s been talking to Davidson’s boss. He’s not happy that Davidson went before the grand jury without his permissio
n. Maybe we can turn the tables on your ex and her honey, get the indictment dismissed, and get him fired.”
Relief washed over Hugh. “Sounds good to me.”
“Have you been arraigned?” Hal asked.
“Yeah. I had to appear with Bill Hackney last Monday morning. Took all of ten minutes to plead not guilty.”
“Okay. I was hoping things hadn’t gotten that far.”
Hugh felt his gut tighten again. “Does that mean you can’t get Liz to withdraw it?”
“No. But the more they accomplish procedurally, the less willing they are going to be to let it go. Do you have an attorney or is Bill representing you?”
“God, no, not Bill. Sarah Knight has agreed to take it on.”
“Ah, the best of the best.”
“I’d expect to win if I had a defense.”
“Alexa Reed looked as if she didn’t have one, and she walked away, charges dismissed. I’d say Sarah will help you become Justice Mahoney.”
“So that’s still in the works?”
“Absolutely. But top secret until we get this other matter cleared up.”
“Thanks, Hal.”
“Hey, like I said, I need your money for my next campaign, and I need your vote on the court during my second term. Don’t worry, Hugh. I’m on it. How’s the Myrabin trial going? Aren’t you guys about ready to wrap things up and send it to the jury?”
“I’d say we’re close. Last Friday Fred Butler testified in excruciating detail about the FDA’s approval of Myrabin. His testimony was full of dates and numbers and the jurors’ eyes glazed over. It was the same story Butler told us when we went to FDA headquarters last October and met with him and his team. Since we lost our two best impeachment witnesses, Harrison O’Connor and Mary Lancaster, we didn’t have any way of showing the jury that Butler was lying when he swore the approval process was conducted according to FDA regulations.”
“It wasn’t?”
“No. Someone ordered a cover-up of two deaths in the clinical trials and of all the post-approval deaths. But without Harrison or Mary, we have no evidence to show that. And then on Monday, McLaren called Charles Lawson who proceeded to assassinate the reputations of Dr. Vannier and Dr. Girard. Mark did a great job on cross-examination of getting Lawson to admit his bias because of his work as a lobbyist for Big Drug. The jury did not look impressed when he left the witness stand, so I think we won that round.
“Then yesterday and today, they put on Winston Wilhite, the head of Wycliffe’s research division. He did what we expected and gave an opinion that alcohol, not Myrabin, caused Tom Andrews’ death. He also insisted that Wycliffe had completely reformulated Myrabin after purchasing it from Suchet, but Mark shot that down pretty hard on cross-examination. Wilhite more or less admitted that he’d lied about a new formula.”
“Sounds like closing argument tomorrow,” Hal said.
“That’s what we are thinking. Mark is preparing tonight.”
“Aren’t you doing the closing?”
“No. Juries don’t like me. And now I’m a jailbird to boot.”
“Hey, you definitely are not, and that’s almost behind you. Good luck tomorrow. I’ll keep working on Liz and DOJ. Don’t worry.”
* * *
Thursday, April 2, 2015, Edward J. Schwartz Federal Courthouse, U.S. District Court, Southern District of California, San Diego
Next morning, as they took their places at the plaintiff’s table, Kathryn glanced at the back of the courtroom and saw someone who looked like Dan Ayers seated in the last row of public seating. She immediately felt uneasy.
A few minutes later, Judge Weiner took the bench and asked, “Does the defense rest at this time, Mr. McLaren?”
“No, Your Honor. We have one further witness.”
“Please call your next witness, then.”
Bob McLaren stood up and said,“The defense calls Shannon Lynn Freeman.”
Mark felt Kathryn, who was seated next to him, tense up even before the tall, beautiful blonde in the tight navy dress strode through the courtroom. As Kathryn turned to see Shannon approach the witness stand, the man who had called himself Dan Ayers held her eye and gave her a faint smile. She felt sick.
Shannon tossed her long blonde hair, and swore to tell the truth. She looked older and harder than the last time Kathryn had seen her. Too much time in the sun had etched fine lines around the corners of her eyes and around her mouth. She looked around the courtroom until she caught Kathryn’s eye. She gave her a contemptuous little smile.
“Who is she?” Mark whispered in Kathryn’s ear.
“Steve’s ex-girlfriend,” she whispered back. Mark hoped the jury didn’t notice the terror in her eyes. Clearly Shannon Freeman wasn’t going to be good for their case. Mark stood up. “Objection, Your Honor.”
“On what grounds, Mr. Kelly?”
“We’ve had no notice that Mr. McLaren intended to call this witness, and we’ve had no opportunity to take her deposition.”
“We only just located Ms. Freeman,” Bob McLaren countered. “And as for deposition, the plaintiff was allowed to present Dr. Girard, without giving us an opportunity to depose her.”
Judge Weiner turned back to Mark. “Mr. McLaren has a point, Mr. Kelly. I’m going to let this witness testify.”
As Mark sat down, Kathryn could see him clench his jaw. He was furious. Panic seized her. I should have told them about Shannon. But now it is too late. In a split second, she realized the terrible truth: she had told Dan Ayers her secret. Except, of course, that probably wasn’t his real name. Kathryn’s heart began to race. Her hands were trembling uncontrollably. She felt like an idiot. How could she have been so careless?
“Ms. Freeman, are you employed?” Bob McLaren began.
“I run the Coronado Youth Surfing Academy for children ages three and up. And I’m also a bartender at O’Brien’s Pub in Coronado.”
“And are you acquainted with Mrs. Andrews and her husband, Tom?”
“Yes, I dated Steve Cooper, Tom’s friend, for about two and a half years.”
“When did you first meet Mr. Cooper?”
“The summer of 2009.”
“And when did your relationship with him end?”
“Around January 2012.”
“Why did your relationship with Mr. Cooper end?”
“I became involved with someone else.”
“And who was that person?”
“Tom Andrews.”
Kathryn’s stomach knotted. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mark’s jaw tensing in angry little waves. She kept her hands clenched together in her lap to control their trembling. She felt the jurors’ eyes on her, and she worked to keep her face impassive.
“Now, Ms. Freeman, Mrs. Andrews has testified that she and her husband were very happily married. If that is true, how did you come to have an affair with Tom Andrews?”
“They weren’t happily married in 2009 when I got to know Tom.”
“How did you become acquainted with Mr. Andrews?”
“Through Steve. I met Steve at Black’s Beach one morning, and we started surfing together regularly and then dating. After a while, he invited me to surf with his friends, Tom and Paul Curtis.”
“So you knew Paul Curtis, as well as Steve Cooper and Tom Andrews?”
“Yes.”
“Now you’ve said that in 2009, the Andrews’ marriage was not a happy one. Do you know why that was true?”
“Because Kathryn wanted a baby, and they couldn’t have one. In the beginning, Tom had wanted children, too; but he’d grown tired of trying.”
“So Tom Andrews had changed his mind about having a family, but Mrs. Andrews felt differently?”
“Yes.”
“Would you tell the jury how you happened to become close to Tom Andrews?”
Shannon paused to drink water from the glass next to her chair. She gave her long blonde hair a shake. Kathryn could see the jury was waiting intently for her answer.
“In the beginning, as I said, I always surfed with Steve. Then Tom joined the two of us more and more often, sometimes with Paul. But usually it was me, Steve, and Tom. Toward the end of 2009, Steve got busy with work and couldn’t surf in the mornings very often. So that left Tom and me alone most days.”
“What kind of work did Steve do?”
“He was an attorney for the Natural Resources Defense Council.”
“So an environmental attorney?” Bob McLaren gave her a friendly, conspiratorial smile.
“Yes.”
“So what happened when you and Tom Andrews were left alone in late 2009?”
“At first we were just good friends.”
“What kinds of things did you talk about as good friends?”
“Tom talked a lot about his work. He loved his job. He talked a lot about Steve, too. They’d been friends since childhood, and they were really close. I could see that he was hoping things would work out between me and Steve.”
“Why did you draw that conclusion?”
“Because Tom actually said so many times. He kept saying that he and Paul were happily married, and he wanted Steve to find someone, too. He didn’t understand why Steve was having such a hard time, and he thought we’d be perfect for each other.”
“And how did you feel about that?”
“In the beginning, I listened to him. I had an open mind about having a relationship with Steve. But the more time I spent with Tom, the more I realized Steve and I would never be anything more than friends. Whereas, with Tom–”
“Objection, narrative,” Mark intoned.
“Sustained,” Judge Weiner replied. “Ms. Freeman, wait for Mr. McLaren to ask you a question.”
“When did your relationship with Tom Andrews cease to be a friendship and become, instead, a love affair?”
“In January 2012.”
“Was there an event that precipitated the change in your relations with Mr. Andrews?”
The Death of Distant Stars, A Legal Thriller Page 30