by Ray Gorham
Kyle could see the turmoil on her face. He closed his eyes, held his breath, and felt his heart pounding.
“And remember, Jennifer,” Helen said, stepping closer, her tone warm and understanding, like a longtime friend. “Remember that you’ve sworn to tell the truth. I know this is a personal question, but it’s important for us to understand everything. Maybe let me rephrase the question. How many times have you had sex with your husband since the EMP occurred, FIVE months ago?”
Jennifer felt the room spin as she formed the answer. “Once,” she said, her voice trembling and barely audile, even in a room full of people straining to hear her reply.
“I’m sorry,” Helen said, stepping back. “I don’t think our jurors could hear that. Could you repeat your answer, a little louder?”
She closed her eyes. “Once,” she said, loud enough to be heard most of the way to the back of the room. Jennifer’s mind raced back over the two months since Kyle’s return. That he was interested was not in doubt. The comments, the touches, the looks were obvious, but something in her had changed. Doug’s escalating harassment and the intense foulness of everything he’d done to her that night, David’s nearly bleeding to death in her bedroom, and Emma’s trauma had all made that part of her dry up. Compound that with the reality that their children slept in the same room, showers were rare, birth control was a calendar, toothpaste was a distant memory, and she felt like she resembled a starving prisoner of war. All of it had resulted in not just an absence of desire, but an aversion to the thought of it.
Once, about a month ago, she had forced herself to respond to his caresses, but Kyle had known it was difficult for her, to the point that he had apologized afterwards. She had hoped it was satisfying for him, but with his apology, she’d burst into tears and been depressed for the remainder of the day. For his part, Kyle had been wonderful, telling her how beautiful she was, reminding her what she meant to him, never pressuring her for anything more than a hug and a kiss. Now this. Her hang-ups made him look deprived and guilty.
“So, Mrs. Tait.” Helen paused and looked at Jennifer, at Kyle, at Leah’s family, then back at Jennifer. Indecision marked her face, and she took a couple deep breaths. She looked back at Leah’s father, then her jaw tightened, and she continued. “If I understand this correctly, in the ten weeks your husband’s been home, you’ve had sexual relations with him only one time. Correct?”
“Correct.”
“A healthy, sexually-active male. How’d he take the neglect?”
Jennifer swallowed, her eyes glistened, but she didn’t answer.
Helen pushed on. “I also understand he was gone for about three months prior to that.”
Jennifer nodded, her throat too tight to speak.
“So, in five and a half months, he’s had sex one time that you know of. At his age, that’s got to be pretty difficult, wouldn’t you think?” Again no answer. “Is he a eunuch or something?”
No one in the room laughed.
Helen turned to the jury. Their eyes were riveted on her. “You think a man quits wanting sex because you don’t feel like it?” Her voice was rising, her pace quickening. “You think he’d quit wanting food if you stopped feeding him? We already know he killed at least one person on his way home from Texas. How about rape? We can’t be sure about that, other than what he tells us. Crossing the country, armed, no witnesses. Who knows what kind of trail he left in his wake. Then he gets home, his wife, unable to perform, and no hookers around. What would you expect?”
Jennifer sobbed from the witness chair, her shoulders rising and falling, her face buried in her hands, a muffled “I’m sorry,” heard through the tears.
“Stop it!” Kyle jumped to his feet and glared at the prosecutor. “Stop it right now! She doesn’t deserve this; she’s not on trial.” Boyd tugged on Kyle’s arm but Kyle batted his hand away. The two guards positioned behind him jumped to their feet and grabbed ahold of Kyle’s arms. Kyle began to pull away but stopped as a murmur rippled through the courtroom.
Helen stepped back and looked nervously to the front, towards Gabe and Don.
“Kyle, sit down!” Boyd hissed, looking uneasily at the jurors.
“Jennifer, don’t be sorry,” Kyle pleaded, eyes locked on his wife. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He jerked an arm away from one of the guards and glared at them, then dropped back into his chair.
Helen caught her breath. “Temper, Mr. Tait. Try not to lose control,” she taunted, before turning her attention to the jurors. “Hopefully you can disregard that little bit of drama. You never know what a trial will bring, especially under conditions like these.” She turned back towards Jennifer, her tone less combative. “Let me conclude, Mrs. Tait. Your husband’s sexual activity has been pretty minimal the last six months, has it not?”
Jennifer wiped her eyes on her sleeve and nodded. “It has, but that’s my fault, not his.”
“It doesn’t matter whose fault it is. When a man is starving, he will go looking for food, don’t you think?”
“Not Kyle.”
Helen looked at Jennifer, admiring her devotion. “I have no further questions.” She clasped her hands together and smiled sincerely. “I’m truly sorry for all the stress you’re under. You’re a brave woman.”
CHAPTER 20
Wednesday, January 25th
Deer Creek, MT
Kyle heard someone in the room above him toss a log on the fire, followed by the sound of a poker scraping on the brick hearth. Kyle’s sleeping pad was up against the fireplace’s brick foundation, the warmest location in the crawlspace, and while the crawlspace was not as warm as the main floor, it was well above freezing and much warmer than he feared it would be when he had first been locked in his underground cell.
The defense had concluded midafternoon, allowing both sides time to present their closing arguments before the end of the day. The verdict was now in the hands of the jurors and would likely be decided soon, since the case wasn’t long or complicated, and there wasn’t much evidence to consider. As Helen had summarized, repeatedly, Leah Smith had been sexually assaulted, and her body had been found in the basement of a sexually starved, admitted killer, with whom she’d had previous contact, on a night he was working alone and couldn’t provide an alibi.
Boyd had countered that there was no evidence linking Kyle and Leah, no witnesses to the crime, no confession, and no history to indicate Kyle would commit such a violent crime. Unfortunately, the defense attorney’s dry, insecure approach had been tedious in comparison to Helen’s practiced dramatics, and by Kyle’s observations, the jurors’ attentiveness was more evident when she spoke than when Boyd did.
Lying in the oppressive darkness of the crawlspace, Kyle tried to think of what he could have done differently, to avoid being where he was, to have prevented this whole mess, but came up with little. Maybe he could’ve made sure his house was locked, or taken a different shift. When it came down to it, though, there really wasn’t much that would have made a difference.
Kyle heard more noises upstairs. A chair squeaked, followed by footsteps moving towards the front door. Grit dropped onto his cheek through a crack in the floor above, and he wiped it away. He heard voices and a muffled conversation, then footsteps approaching the hatch that accessed the crawlspace. The chest that secured the trap door scraped the floor as it was pushed away, followed by the rasping of stiff hinges being pulled upward. Kyle climbed to his feet and shuffled over below the door with his head ducked low, guided by the faint orange glow from the opening.
“Tait! You’ve got a visitor.” The gruff voice came from one of the guards from Clinton who helped watch Kyle each night, a man whose name Kyle didn’t care to learn.
“Who is it?” Kyle asked, his voice rising from the soupy darkness.
“It’s me, Kyle,” Jennifer said, peering into the opening.
Kyle’s heart skipped at the sound of her voice. “Jennifer?”
“Can I come down?”
/> “Of course. Is it okay?”
“I told her it would be fine,” Gabe said as he crouched by the hatch. “I walked her over here so there wouldn’t be any questions. We can’t allow you to come out until after the verdict, but I didn’t think there’d be any harm in Jennifer spending some time with you here, assuming you’re good with that.”
Kyle quickly repositioned the stepladder he used to access his cell to a spot easier for Jennifer to reach. “You have no idea how good I am with that.”
Jennifer sat on the edge of the opening and lowered her legs. Kyle lightly grabbed an ankle with one hand and guided it to the top step of the ladder; his other hand held the ladder still. Gabe and the guard stood ready to help her, but she found her footing and descended out of view.
“We’ll come for you in the morning, Jennifer,” Gabe said as they prepared to close the hatch. “Kyle, you have to stay here until the jury is ready. Have a good night.” The hatch swung shut, and the chest was slid back into position. Kyle pressed the button on his flashlight, and a single, thin beam of white light pierced the darkness.
“A flashlight?” Jennifer asked. “Where did you get that?”
Kyle took Jennifer by the hand and led her over to his sleeping pad, carefully guiding her head to avoid the metal pipes that hung from the joists. “Ty gave it to me. It’s LED, so it doesn’t use much power. There’s not much to see down here, so I only use it to find my bucket, or on special occasions like this.”
Her eyes shimmered in the light, and Kyle could see she was on the verge of tears. “What’s wrong?” He switched off the light and sat beside her in the darkness.
She let out a sob-laced laugh. “What’s wrong? You’re fighting for your life, and we’re imprisoned in the cellar of a decrepit old house, and you ask what’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling her close and rocking her. “I’m sorry I’m putting you through this. I’m sorry that after everything else, that you have to deal with this.”
“Oh, Kyle. You haven’t done anything wrong. It’s this whole screwed up world we’re living in. I don’t know what to do.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m terrified that I’m going to lose you. I think my testimony today sealed it. How am I supposed to live with that?” She wiped her eyes and nose with her sleeve.
“Don’t say that, Jenn. I was so happy to be your husband today, just as I am everyday. I’d walk from Texas again just to spend one day with you, let alone ten weeks.”
“I should’ve lied. Should’ve said we made love every day, till I couldn’t walk anymore. Told them you begged me to stop. Instead, I made you look more guilty.”
He could hear her sniffing, and he kissed her on the head. “I love you. Do you understand that? No matter what happens, good or bad, I completely, absolutely, one hundred percent, no hesitation whatsoever, love you.”
There was a long pause before she spoke. “I know, Kyle, but I don’t deserve you. You nearly die walking home, and instead of a loving wife you find some frigid, emotionally unstable waif posing in her place, someone who jumps at her own shadow or at a touch she isn’t expecting. How can you still love me?”
“Oh, babe,” Kyle said, fighting to control his own emotions. “Please don’t say that. What do I have to do to make you believe that I’m completely, crazy in love with you? When we got married, I thought a man could never love anyone more than I did then, but I was so wrong. When I was walking home, every night I prayed for at least one more day with you, one more touch of your hand, one more kiss. Then when I made it, when I finally saw you, it was the most powerful thing I’ve ever felt. I didn’t know it was possible to love someone that much. I remembered everything we’ve been through together, the easy times, and the hard. I knew for sure then, and still know today, how little I want a life that you aren’t a part of. I love you so much more now than the day we got married because of what we’ve been through, because every minute we spend together makes you more a part of me. Please, don’t ever ask me how I can love you.”
His arms were wrapped around her, and he pulled her even closer, resting his head on hers, then kissing her cheek. She didn’t speak, but he could feel her crying.
They sat together, feeling each other’s warmth, rocking gently. After a long period of silence, Jennifer finally spoke. “I’m scared.”
Kyle nodded. “Me too. Me too.”
“What do I do if I lose you?”
“You’ll never lose me, but if the worst happens, you’ll be fine, Jenn. You’ll make it. You’re tough.”
“I’m not that tough. If they find you guilty, you know they’re going to shoot you, right?”
Kyle nodded, the lump in his throat growing larger. “Yeah. I try not to think about it, but it’s crossed my mind a time or two.”
“How do I live with that? How do I look at our kids everyday for the rest of my life, knowing that their father was murdered and I couldn’t do anything about it.”
“Try and think positive.”
“How? How do I think positive? There’s not a positive thing about this. That woman was too good. Your guy, Boyd, was serviceable, but she was a pit bull. She could have gotten Spencer convicted. There was no way to stop her.”
“Whatever happens, you’ll be fine. You have to be fine. Promise me that. You made it for months without me; you can do it again. This is still a good community. They’ll help you. They can hate me, but they like you.”
“Stop it, Kyle. I’m not that strong. When you weren’t here, I didn’t know where you were, so I could believe you’d be back, that I just had to hold on another day. That gave me strength, taking it a day at a time. If this happens, then all hope is lost. I’ll have nothing to hold on to. They may as well shoot me, because losing you will kill me. I don’t know how women do it who lose their husbands.”
Kyle fought to compose himself. “You can’t think that way. We have three children who need you. You’ll find the strength; I know it. Besides, I’ll be there. You might not be able to see me, but I’ll be there. I know I’m not that religious, but if it’s possible, if God will let me, I’ll give up heaven so I can be at your side every minute of every day, until it’s your time. I’ll catch every tear that you shed. I’ll be in every breeze that you feel. I’ll hold your head every night when you fall asleep. I’ll never, ever be gone from you. You just have to be strong until we’re together again. Do you promise to do that?”
Jennifer couldn’t speak. Sobs racked her body and sapped her strength. Kyle held her, rocked her, stroked her hair, kissed her forehead, and experienced her in his arms, praying the moment would never end. “Do you promise me?” he asked again when his own tears slowed.
He felt her head nod. “I promise,” she managed when she could finally speak. “As long as you promise to always be there, I promise.”
“I will always be there.”
He felt her twist in his arms, and she pushed him down on his back. She leaned down and kissed him on the lips, a deep, warm, all-consuming kiss. “I love you, Kyle Tait,” she said as she pulled away and sat up. He heard the zipper on her jacket, then felt her hands searching for his.
CHAPTER 21
Thursday, January 26th
Deer Creek, MT
The jurors were back in their seats at the front of the room, silent, eyes down, arms folded tightly across their chests. The verdict had just been handed to Don Anderson, and the tension was thick. There were a few whispers and some sideways glances, but without exception everyone’s attention was locked on the two men at the front.
Shortly after the first signs of daylight had peeked through the cracks in the foundation, the hatch had been opened and Jennifer told to leave, then Kyle had waited for seven long hours before being informed that the verdict was in, and he was to be taken to the courthouse.
When Kyle and his entourage arrived at the building, it was packed, with every seat full and more than a hundred people standing in the back of the hall.
Jennifer waited in the first row behind the defense table, wearing her best dress. Their three children were next to her, all dressed in church clothes at least one size too small. Spencer grinned at the sight of his dad and ran forward to hug him. Kyle knelt down and winked, his arms still secured behind his back. “You sure look good. How are you doing?”
Spencer wrapped his arms around Kyle’s neck. “I want you to come home, dad. I miss you.”
“I want to come home, too, son. Maybe today. Would that be alright?”
Spencer nodded, his arms still tight around his dad. “Why are your hands tied up? What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything, Spence. People are just worried.”
Jennifer peeled Spencer off of Kyle, and both father and son began to cry. Kyle stood up and proceeded to the front of the room. He smiled at David and Emma, who both sat there with swollen, red eyes. Jennifer slipped into her chair with Spencer and smiled bravely at Kyle.
Boyd pulled Kyle’s chair away from the table and waited for him to sit. “How are you doing today?”
“Had better days, I have to admit. Hopefully things will improve.”
“Lets hope so,” Boyd replied, patting Kyle on the back.
Kyle watched as Don placed the envelope with the verdict on the table in front of them. Gabe looked up and addressed the jurors. “Is everyone in agreement on the verdict?”
There were nods and mumbled affirmations.
Don opened the envelope, took out the folded piece of paper, and he and Gabe read the verdict in silence. He then returned to the jury, where the foreman stood to receive the paper.
“Please read your verdict,” Gabe said, his voice cracking.
The man nodded, unfolded the paper, and read. “We, the members of this jury, on the charge of murder, find the defendant guilty.”
A roar of voices filled the room. Kyle heard Jennifer gasp, then Emma’s panicked voice. “What does that mean, mom?”