by Loy Holder
Liz frowned and shook her head. “No, it wasn’t necessary.”
“When did Mr. and Mrs. James begin caring for your children?”
“Right away.”
“Have you ever denied my client’s request for visitation with his children?”
“Yes.” Liz wanted to scream at this repulsive little man, but she bit her tongue and remained silent.
“How many times have you denied his requests for visitation?”
“I don’t remember exactly, several.”
“One last question, did anyone witness the alleged abuse that took place on the day you left Mr. Harmon?”
She hesitated and then answered, “No.” She clenched her jaw after answering. Damn. I can’t say the kids saw it all and drag them into this trial.
“Thank you, Mrs. Harmon. No further questions, Your Honor.”
Liz hesitated and was relieved when Judge Cornelius said, “Mr. Sandhill, do you wish to redirect?”
Peter was already standing. “Yes, Your Honor.”
Judge Cornelius held up his hand for Peter to wait, leaned over, and asked Liz, “Mrs. Harmon, do you need a break before the prosecution proceeds?”
She gave the judge a determined look. “No, Your Honor, I’m fine, thank you.”
“All right, Mr. Sandhill,” the judge said. “Proceed with your redirect.”
Peter gave Liz a reassuring smile as he stood in front of her. She was shaken but ready. “Mrs. Harmon, you said you were aware of the welfare option. Do you know what your monthly benefits would have been?”
“I would have received one hundred ninety-five dollars a month, medical and dental benefits for me and the children, and child day care free of charge.
“Why didn’t you choose that option?”
“Because I was making twice that per week, dancing. I didn’t qualify.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Harmon. Tell the court why you didn’t apply for a different job. You testified that you had a year of college.”
“That year of college qualified me to work for the state as a clerk. Again, my dancing job paid a lot more, plus I was able to be with my kids from the time they woke in the morning until just before their dinner and bedtime.”
“When you moved into your present residence in Folsom, how did you meet Mr. and Mrs. James?”
“Well, when I went to the Folsom house to do a walk-through with the landlady, she introduced me to Mrs. James. Next thing I knew, I had a babysitter.”
“You testified that you did not request a background check on Mr. and Mrs. James before they cared for your children? Tell the court why.”
“It wasn’t necessary. I got to know both Mr. and Mrs. James while I was moving in. They raised four children of their own, plus they had glowing references. I saw how they treated my children, and I trusted them.”
Roscoe stood, patted Ron on the shoulder, and addressed Judge Cornelius. “Your Honor, I need a minute with my client.”
“All right, Mr. Bettancourt. The court will take a ten-minute recess.”
The jury took a break, and left the courtroom, Liz chose to remain in the witness chair, and Roscoe huddled with Ron at the defense table. She couldn’t hear a word they were saying, but their conversation was animated. Finally, Roscoe turned to the judge, “Your Honor, we’re ready.”
Once the jury was brought back in and seated, the judge said, “Mr. Sandhill, you may resume your questioning.”
Peter said, “Thank you, Your Honor.” He was pensive as if choosing his words with care. “Mrs. Harmon, could you tell the court why you refused to let Mr. Harmon see the children?”
“My divorce papers say he can’t be around the children when he’s been drinking, but I simply don’t trust him to stay sober while he’s with the children, and he’s a mean drunk.”
Peter nodded with satisfaction. “Thank you, Mrs. Harmon. I have no further questions.”
Judge Cornelius asked, “Mr. Bettancourt, do you wish recross?”
“Yes, Your Honor.” Roscoe stood with a sour look on his face, scratched his head, and took his time walking toward the witness chair. He cleared his throat and asked, “Mrs. Harmon, you previously testified that your children are with Mr. and Mrs. James ninety-five hours a week, and you stated that you’ve seen how they treat your children, so you trust them. Is it actually possible for you to see how the children are being treated during the whole ninety-five hours?”
“No.” God, he’s going for the jugular with that question.
“You testified that Mrs. James provided references. Did you ever contact those references to check their validity?”
“No.” Liz fumed and fumbled in her purse for a tissue to wipe the tiny beads of sweat from her forehead.
“You just testified that you didn’t allow Mr. Harmon visitation with the children, because you didn’t trust him to remain sober while he was with them. Did you ever give Mr. Harmon a chance?”
“No.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Harmon. No further questions, Your Honor.”
Judge Cornelius looked at the clock and gave Liz a benevolent look. “You’re free to go, Mrs. Harmon.”
Liz stood and quickly left the courtroom, shaken to the core. Her head throbbed as though someone was beating a bass drum inside it. In her irrational state, she imagined the worst. Ron would walk and take the children away from her. “No!” she screamed as she drove to Josie’s house.
The tears were streaming down her face as she knocked on Josie’s door. “What in God’s green earth has happened?” Josie asked as she looked at Liz’s tear-streaked face.
“Oh, Josie. It was a terrible morning. Do you have some coffee?”
“Of course. Come in, and tell me what’s wrong. The kids are playing around back.” Josie brought two cups of coffee to the table and sat down. Liz took a sip of coffee and told Josie about all the killer questions Roscoe asked. “Josie, I’m afraid I’m gonna lose my children. Thanks for the coffee, but I need to get the children home and just hug them.”
Josie stood, patted Liz on the shoulder, and walked out her back door. Within minutes, she came back in with Ronnie and Regina.
When they got home, she hugged the children to her and wept until they squirmed and wriggled out of her tight grasp to ask her what was wrong.
She told them she’d had a bad morning and that she’d missed them. They told her about their morning and then asked if they could go back outside. She was watching them through the window when the phone rang. It was Peter, and she told him what was bothering her. He listened and then assured her she had nothing to worry about because the prosecution’s evidence and upcoming testimony would definitely bring a guilty verdict.
She wasn’t convinced, and she tried to immerse herself in household chores. There was always something to clean or wash. When the phone rang later that afternoon, her heart did a flip-flop. Is this Peter again with bad news? She picked up the receiver and uttered tentatively, “Hello, Liz speaking.”
“Hello, pretty lady. How’s it going?
The sound of his voice was a relief. “Ah, I’m so glad it’s you. Tell me about your day first.”
“Well, Joyce hasn’t regained consciousness since last Monday. That means she’s not taking in food or drink. The doc says it won’t be long now, but it’s hard to watch. I got the boys into counseling. Now, tell me about you. How did the trial go?”
“It was awful. The defense attorney managed to highlight what a neglectful mother I am. His questions really stung.”
“Like what?”
Liz repeated Roscoe’s questions and said, “See what I mean?”
“That’s what defense attorneys do, but he’s blowing it way out of context. He doesn’t know you like I do. You are the best possible mother. Don’t worry. Ron’s gonna be put away for a long time.”
“Thanks for your encouragement. I—” Ronnie and Regina burst into the house. Regina was sobbing, and Ronnie had a cut on his knee. “Bill, I gotta see what’s wrong with my
children.”
“OK, pretty lady. I’ll call again soon. I miss you. Stay positive.”
“I miss you too. I’ll try.” By the time she hung up the phone, both children were wailing. She pulled them into the living room to sit with her on the couch. “OK, try to calm down, and tell me what’s wrong.”
Ronnie wiped his eyes. “Marty pushed me down and said I was dumb. Then he pushed Regina. Look at my knee.”
“Yes, and I was scared. He called me a crybaby, too.” Regina’s blue eyes were filled with tears.
“Well, first, let me look take care of that knee, Ronnie, and Regina, are you hurt anywhere?”
“No, I’m just mad.”
Although Liz didn’t feel like smiling, she smiled to try to cheer up her children. “OK, come on in the kitchen. First, I’ll bandage Ronnie’s knee and clean you both up a little. Then how about ice-cream cones? When we get back, I’ll go talk to Marty’s mom before I leave for work. How does that sound?”
Ronnie’s tears turned into a wide grin. “Good, Mom. I want chocolate.”
“It’s good.” Regina nodded. “But I want strawberry.”
When it was time to go to work that evening, she dropped the children off and told Josie what Marty’s mother had said. “I think the problem’s been solved. Marty’s quite a bit older than the other neighborhood kids, and he won’t be allowed to play with them for a while.”
Liz drove to the Jet feeling better. I did good with the children today. But that doesn’t make me supermom. I have to do something else for a living, and soon.
* * *
Chapter thirty-four
Why isn’t the antacid working? Liz had taken some pills right after she got home from the Jet, but now it was three in the morning. She lay motionless in bed. She’d learned that moving when the pain came, even normal breathing, made it worse, so she was barely taking in air, yet the pain didn’t stop her from agonizing over Roscoe’s questions. Shit, Roscoe would have a field day with me if he knew about Bill. I won’t stop seeing Bill. I need him like the air I breathe.
Finally, the pain eased, and she went to the bathroom to use the toilet and get a drink of water. Feeling better, she came back to bed and nestled between the cool sheets, thankful she didn’t have to appear in court today. When the trial was over, she would make some changes.
Later that day, Liz was getting ready for work, and the phone rang. She answered, “Hello?”
“Hi, Liz. Peter Sandhill here. Good news. It went great today, but tomorrow is critical. Mr. Bettancourt will present his case in the morning, and in the afternoon it’s closing arguments for the prosecution and defense and, hopefully, the verdict. I need you to be in court bright and early tomorrow morning just in case Mr. Bettancourt calls your ex-husband to the witness stand. If he does, I may need you as a rebuttal witness. Will that be a problem?”
“No, Peter. I’ll be there by eight, but do you think that’s really going to happen?”
“I think the defense would be crazy to do that. However, Mr. Bettancourt didn’t do too well today, so he could be desperate enough to risk it. Gotta run, Liz. Thanks, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
After Liz had a long talk with the children about where she’d be for the next few days, she dressed and took the children to Josie’s. Frank answered the door. “Hi, kids. Come on in.”
The children went into the house, and Liz said, “Frank, is Josie here? I need to tell her something.”
Frank smiled. “Do you want to come in?”
“No, thanks, Frank. I’m running late.”
He called out, “Josie, Liz wants to talk to you.”
“Coming,” Josie yelled and in a flash she was at the door. “Boy, that Mr. Bettencourt is a jerk. Do you have to go to court tomorrow?”
“Yes. That’s what I wanted to tell you. We can compare notes on Bettancourt later. I need to be in court by eight in the morning, and I’ll probably be there most of the day. Then I’m off to Las Vegas Saturday morning. I packed plenty of clothes for the children. I’m probably not going to see them until late Monday. I hate this, but the trial should be over by tomorrow night.
“OK.” Josie laughed. “You warned me. I guess I’ll see you Monday. Call me later, and let me know how it went.”
“Thanks, Josie. I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.”
She drove to work saying a prayer of thanks for Josie. What would I do without her? There weren’t many cars in the parking lot. Thursday nights could be slow. When she walked in the door, she headed for the kitchen. Sam was making a pizza and looked at Liz. “Hey, you. Wanna have some pizza with me? Someone ordered this and then split.”
“Actually, I’m starved. I’m gonna change, and I’ll be right back.”
Liz ate with Sam at the bar and made small talk for a while. She didn’t mention the trying day she’d had. Around seven, several new customers walked in and sat down at a table. Liz took their orders, and then she punched in some songs and danced.
There was a slow but steady stream of customers the rest of the night, but she wasn’t busy enough to forget about tomorrow. She was hoping to hear from Bill, so she jumped every time the phone rang, but every call was for Sam. When it was time to close, she helped Sam clean up and then drove home.
The phone was ringing as she unlocked the door, and she ran to answer it. “Hello?”
“Hi, pretty lady. You must have just walked in the door.”
“I was hoping it was you. How’re things?”
Bill paused for a second. “Joyce passed away, this evening. It’s a relief because she’s not suffering anymore. That was hard to watch. This next few days are gonna be busy. I have a lot of stuff to do, financial and funeral arrangements and then the funeral. It all has to be right for my sons.
“I’m so sorry for your boys, Bill. I can’t imagine how awful it’s been for you. I pray the funeral goes well.”
“Thanks. I’m sure it will be fine. How’s the trial going?”
“My attorney said today went pretty well, but tomorrow’s big. He said we may even have a verdict by the end of the day. I’m scared to death and praying a lot. So you won’t be coming to Las Vegas this Sunday, right? Can you at least call? I miss you, and your voice is my sunshine.”
“I miss you more than you know, Liz.” His voice broke, and there was a long pause. “I can’t come to Las Vegas this Sunday, but I’ll call soon. Just picture us together, alone, with our clothes off. It will happen soon.”
Friday morning, Liz dragged herself out of bed, dressed, and drove to the courthouse. She said a long prayer before she entered the courtroom and took a seat close to the front so she could see and hear the proceedings.
When everyone was seated, the judge looked at Roscoe. “Defense, call your first witness.”
“Yes, Your Honor. I call Ms. Charlene Harmon to the stand.” Liz watched her sister-in-law walk to the witness stand but thought better of waving or saying hello as she passed by.
Charlene looked sharp in her tailored gray suit, and her matching heels screamed success. Once Charlene was sworn in, Roscoe approached the witness stand, paused for a second, and said, “Ms. Harmon, how do you know Mr. Harmon?”
Charlene nodded to Ron. “He’s my brother.”
“What was it like, growing up with your brother?”
“It was good,” she replied. She went on to testify that they were close and that her brother had protected her from the school bullies. She also said that when Ron was a teenager, he’d gotten into fights. She said, “He was always hyped up and couldn’t sleep.”
Roscoe asked, “Did your parents get him some help?”
“No. But then Ron discovered beer. I watched him drink and calm right down. Funny, Dad would just buy more beer.”
“What happened when Ron came to California?”
“When Ron turned twenty-one, I drove him to the bus station. He took a bus to California. I came out a year later. He’d found a job in an auto-repair shop in Sacramen
to. When I got here, he’d already met Liz, uh, Mrs. Harmon. They were living together in a small duplex, and they often invited me to dinner.”
“What about his anger and the beer drinking?”
“He was OK. When I’d go over for dinner, he’d come in from work and slam things around, but then he’d grab a beer or pour us all a glass of wine, and he’d be fine.”
“As time went on, did you witness any changes?”
“Yes. The first few years were great. But then the kids came along, plus he started having trouble at work. I babysat at his house a lot, and his wild rages scared me. Then I’d watch him drink to get calm.”
“Thank you Ms. Harmon. Your Honor, I have no further questions.”
The judge cleared his throat, took a drink of water, and said, “Does the prosecution wish cross-examination?”
Peter remained seated. “No, Your Honor.”
“Ms. Harmon, you are free to go.” Judge Cornelius smiled at Charlie as she rushed from the courtroom. Then the judge motioned to Roscoe. “Defense, call your next witness.”
Roscoe nudged Ron and whispered something to him. Then Roscoe rose from his chair. “Your honor, I call my client, Ron Harmon, to the stand.”
That seemed to upset the judge, and he motioned to both attorneys to approach the bench. The two attorneys and the judge huddled together and talked. Liz saw the judge straighten in his chair as he boomed out a question, his voice loud and commanding. “Are you sure you want to do that, Mr. Bettancourt? One wrong move and he’s out of my courtroom.”
“Yes, Your Honor. He’s prepared.” Roscoe appeared cool and calm as he nodded.
Liz sat riveted to the chair, squeezing her hands together until her knuckles turned white. Please God, don’t let the jury believe his lies.
Roscoe pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. “Mr. Harmon, tell the court what you know about the breakup of your marriage.”
“My wife turned away from me when my pay got cut and started dancing nearly naked in a bar. That killed my soul, and things got worse. She didn’t know, but I found out where she was working, and I went in to watch the action. She was on that stage teasing every man in the room. It cut me into pieces, and I couldn’t sleep.”