by BJ Mayo
Mostly I watched Britanee Phelps, the head cheerleader, the closest. Her face seemed devoid of emotion during all of the cheers. There was never a smile across her face. You could hear the reserved-seat cheer section with their foghorns, and you could see them waving their yellow and black kerchiefs. It was hard to hear the announcer over their racket.
Britanee’s mama was easy to recognize. She was a hard person not to miss. Yellow and black sweatband with a ponytail. She had on a fancy yellow-and-black jumpsuit jump suit. Every time she would yell and blow her foghorn, folks in front of her would cover their ears. She appeared to be a woman undeterred by other folks’ feelings. She was going to root the Tigers to victory all by herself, no matter how big of a spectacle she made of herself. Her husband stood stoically with his hands in his jacket, looking somewhat detached and forlorn. Periodically he would wave his kerchief a swirl or two and sit down. Britanee’s mama never sat the entire game. She was the loudest in the cheer section, screaming routinely at the referees when a play did not go her way.
I called a meeting with Captain Burris and Judge Clovis McGee, Saturday morning after the game at 10:00 a.m. and laid out my case before them. Judge McGee listened with great intensity, never speaking, until the end. Captain Burris would shake his head in disbelief from time to time.
“Mr. Carter,” the judge said, “I have watched you work for many years. Bulldog, I think they call you, isn’t it? What you are proposing is a gamble that may fail. If I understand you, you are proposing a pretrial hearing, or what you are calling an evidentiary hearing, on a case you have developed. Am I correct in that assumption? You understand that no one has been charged, you have just now culminated your thoughts and your investigation of what you say happened. Not one of these people suspect, I suppose, what you are preparing to lay out before them and their parents.”
“Yes, sir, Judge. I believe I have sufficient grounds and what I believe to be credible circumstantial evidence to bring this to trial. I know what I think took place leading up to Jenna Couch’s death, I just don’t know exactly what happened at the scene, which I believe these girls, the cheerleaders, were at when this young girl was hanged. All roads lead to one of them, and possibly three more. I feel strongly that if I am allowed to bring in the pieces of evidence to a hearing with a select group of folks, we will get to the real story of what happened.”
“And you would bet your badge on that, sir?” the judge said. “What if it backfires? What if you get sued because they were not allowed counsel at a hearing? Normally, when you lay out your case, both sides are represented by counsel.”
“Judge, I can understand your hesitation. However, I have studied these girls at the football game. Something is not right. Their mind is not on what they are doing. I saw it firsthand. At least one of them acted very strangely at the football game. She was the head cheerleader. What I am saying is, let me have this evidentiary hearing on my terms, and I will take full responsibility for the outcome. If it does not work out, I will turn in my badge. And if they sue? Yes, sir, that will be on me as well.”
“You are willing to be sued, sir?”
“I did not say I was willing, Judge, I said it would be on me as well.”
The judge took a long and thoughtful look at Captain Burris. “Captain?”
“Judge, I have worked with Mr. Carter a long time, over twenty years now. If he tells me a crayon mark is red, it is red. I trust him. I trust his reasoning power and his ability to analyze what he finds. He is excellent at reading the tea leaves.”
I just cringed at that statement, but said nothing, because I certainly had not read the tea leaves correctly on Beatrice. In fact, I had stepped on and crushed the tea leaves.
“Okay, Captain Burris, I believe you,” said the judge. “If this thing falls apart, I will hold you responsible, Mr. Carter, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir, Judge. Yes, sir.”
“Evidentiary hearing is therefore granted for next Wednesday at 10:00 a.m. Have a list to me tomorrow of folks you want to attend. I will look at those, and if all is in order, I will approve. I will have my clerk record the exact proceedings of the hearing, as I fully expect you may indeed get sued.”
“Yes, sir, Judge, I will have the list to you tomorrow.”
The judge got up and left the chambers, leaving Captain Burris and I alone.
“You better be right, Alfie.”
“I am, Captain. I am.”
“I will need to check out pieces of evidence to bring and a picture of the girl.”
“Get what you need, Alfie, just make sure you cross every T and dot every I, or we will both be unemployed and maybe in jail. Then both of us will have our butts handed to us on a silver platter.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Mr. Black stared stoically through the evidence room window.
“Hello, Orville! How are you?”
The blank stare back betrayed nothing. “What do you need, sir?”
“Well, Mr. Black, I have been authorized to check out some evidence.”
Mr. Black’s eyebrows raised and lips pinched together. “Check out evidence to review in this room?”
“No, sir, check out evidence to take from this room to a hearing.”
“Well, that will be impossible. Per our procedures, you must have clearance up the chain of command to have that done. Without that written permission from the top of the chain of command, you will not be released any evidence from this room, sir. We follow the procedures around here at all times.”
I slowly pulled the approval slip from my pocket and slid it into the tray under the window. Mr. Black snatched it up and quickly unfolded it. His eyes blinked as he read it through his thick glasses. He brought his gaze slowly to me as I smiled at him.
“Well, Orville, what are you gonna do? Count flies or go to swatting? I need me some evidence bags. See the ones noted on the note. That is what I need.”
“I can read,” he said. “Please have a seat at the designated table, and I will be with you shortly.”
It was hard not to smile at Mr. Black’s apparent open disdain for all things human. You don’t get any evidence out of my evidence room and take it out. No, sir. That is, not without a note, and I had one.
Mr. Black returned a few minutes later with the plastic bags from the scene of Jenna Couch’s death site: the bag containing the Marlboro cigarette butt, the second cigarette butt with black lipstick and yellow flecks on one of them, as well as the bag containing the red-and-black lead rope, number 3404 on the clasp. He had a list of forms in his hands, and was shuffling through them.
“You are required to sign several of these forms, sir, and I will remind you that you are on camera. You must use a set of these gloves I have placed in this bag, if you remove the evidence from the bag. Your superior must witness and sign off on this form each time you remove a piece of evidence from the bag. This is a set of sterilized tweezers you are required to use if you remove the cigarette butts from these individual bags. I highly recommend that you leave the evidence in the bags, sir. The rules so state that you must keep the evidence under lock and key in your possession at all times, sir, until said time they are to be reviewed. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir, Orville, that is perfectly clear.”
“It is Mr. Black, sir. I do not go by Orville. I will need to see your badge and your driver’s license, sir.”
“Somehow I knew you were going to ask me for them, Mr. Black,” I said as I handed them to him.
Mr. Black spent at least thirty minutes filling out the paperwork, and would hold each page in front of the camera after he and I had signed it. “Please stand in front of the camera, sir, and hold the document,” he said. He would then describe the date, document signed, and that I was the one who signed it. He had a return date for the evidence to be returned intact to the evidence room. This was noted as the morning after the hearing.
Finally all of the forms were complete. Mr. Black spent another ten minutes sc
anning over them before stating that all was in order.
“Well, that is a good thing, Mr. Black. I like to have all of my business in order,” I said.
Mr. Black handed me the evidence bags and bag of gloves.
“What do you have to secure this evidence in, sir, per requirements? Lock and key?”
“I have nothing with me, but I will get a briefcase or something.”
“No, sir, that will not do. You have been told the rules. Now, I can check you out one from here if you wish, of course you will have to sign a form to do so.”
“Mr. Black, I have signed so many of your forms, what damage can one more possibly do?”
“Please do so, sir. Please do so.”
Fifteen minutes later, the evidence was securely locked up in a police-issued briefcase and of course a picture was taken of it and the document held in front of the ever-peering camera.
“You are released to go, sir. Remember the return dates on the evidence and the evidence satchel. Remember not to lose the key, as it is the only one assigned to the satchel. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir, Orville, it is very clear.” I really could not help myself as I turned at the door and looked at Mr. Black. “Orville, you would be a lot better off if you would smile sometimes. Act like you enjoy life a little. Loosen up, man.”
Mr. Black’s twenty-plus years in the Corps showed. He glared back without smiling. “Yes, sir, rules are to be followed to the tee. You want evidence, you follow the rules, or you will get no evidence.”
I smiled to myself as I left the room. “You can if you have a note from the Captain.”
I arrived at the courthouse an hour early, to set up and gather my thoughts. My nerves were steady, and I realized that others’ might not be that would be in attendance. Judge McGee had granted his list of participants at the hearing. All six cheerleaders and their parents, Captain Burris, Samantha Divine, Turtle Vines, Tom Orlager, Rose McDonald, Jenna Couch’s parents, and her grandfather Pap.
I set the briefcase on the table normally reserved for attorneys, and carefully unlocked it, then placed the bags of evidence side by side. I took out the ten-by-twelve-inch photo of Jenna Couch and moved the overhead projector to the table from the side of the hearing room. Laying it on the surface, I flipped on the projector light. The visual effect was immediate. There on the pulldown screen was the image of a young woman with blonde hair and green eyes. She had a beautiful smile. I turned off the screen and insured the picture was square in the frame.
Slowly, I took out my carefully prepared notes and reviewed them. Around 9:30 a.m., folks started to come in. First came the Couch family.
Mr. Couch said, “I had to take off at the refinery today, but I am glad to be here,” as we shook hands.
Mrs. Couch nodded as I shook her hand next. “Where would you like us to sit?”
“How about that front table on the right side of the hearing room?” I said.
Pap extended his bony hand to me. He had on a clean set of clothes and had shaved. He had missed several spots on his face but looked better than the first time we met.
“How are you doing, Pap?”
“Well, son, I ain’t staring up at dirt,” he said, and walked up to the front and sat. “I’d rather be hunting them grackles.”
Next came the cheerleaders and their families. They all arrived at the same time, as if planned. I greeted each of them and showed them where they were to be seated. All of the girls were void of expression. All walking heel to toe, they stared ahead glassy-eyed once they were seated. All sat shoulder to shoulder, holding hands. Their folks took up seats directly behind them.
Mr. Phelps looked one hundred years old. He looked like a man who never stood for much of anything, who always fell in line with Mrs. Phelps and never got out of line. His face showed much pain. Maybe he was thinking about how he let himself lose control of the reins of his house and his family. He was just a puppet and nothing more. His face said he wanted to be more but could not.
Rose McDonald appeared through the back door of the hearing room. She was radiant in a white blouse on and tailored pants. I walked to the back door and met her. “Hello, Rose. Thanks for coming.”
“Anytime or anything you need, Captain,” she said.
Her perfume was bold.
“Please take a seat anywhere in the hearing room,” I said.
“Yes, sir, Captain, yes, sir,” she said, without saluting this time.
Samantha Divine, Turtle Vines, and Tom Orlager came in together. They probably all rode in together. Samantha usually had her dark red hair pulled into a ponytail and with her ever-present gum. Today it was hanging neatly on her shoulders. She looked much older than when I interviewed her. They took a seat behind the cheerleader parents.
At 9:55, Captain Burris strode through the door in his splendid uniform. He came to the front of the hearing room and sat to the left of the cheerleaders. Judge McGee did not put up with anyone showing up tardy. His clerk was already at her position on the stenograph machine.
At exactly 10:00 a.m., Judge McGee entered the courtroom in his robe, even though this was an evidentiary hearing. Captain Burris ordered all to rise before the judge was seated.
The judge looked at the entirety of the audience, all invited by me.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, I am Judge McGee. Please be seated. We are here today for an evidentiary hearing called by one of our lead investigators, Mr. Alfie Carter. Everyone here is by invitation only and was not required to attend. I am pleased that each of you chose to come. As you can see, there is no counsel present for this hearing. The evidentiary hearing is to address some critical findings in the death of one Jenna Couch, approximately sixty days ago. Her parents are seated to my left, and to your right, up front here, along with her grandfather.
“Investigator Carter asked for and was granted this hearing based on his findings to date. Again, I thank each of you for being in attendance. I have asked my clerk, Mrs. Stevens, to record the hearing on stenograph. If anyone has objection to that, please indicate by holding up your hand now.
“Okay, I see no hands raised, so I will consider there is no objection. No one is to be sworn under oath, as this is an evidentiary hearing only. We are not asking for statements of any kind from any person in this hearing. Any statements made will be considered strictly voluntary but with merit. If anyone does not understand what I just said, please indicate by raised hand and I will repeat myself with clarity.
“Okay, there are no hands raised, so we will proceed. Investigator Carter, please proceed with your hearing.”
Slowly, I stood and went to the front of the room. The high ceiling of the hearing room provided adequate acoustics. There would be no need to have to speak loudly to be heard.
“First of all, ladies and gentlemen, I want to thank each of you for attending this evidentiary hearing. The culmination of approximately sixty days of work in the field brings us to this date. The purpose of the hearing is to effectively show you what is known to be fact concerning the recent death of one Miss Jenna Couch.”
At that point, I flipped on the overhead projector and Jenna’s picture was shown on the pulldown screen. Mrs. Couch was visibly shaken by the photo and began to quietly weep and dab away tears. Mr. Couch and Pap sat rigidly, without visible response, but they were more than likely deeply shaken.
I left the photo on the projector while carefully canvassing the faces of each of the cheerleaders.
“This picture of Jenna was asked for by myself and given to me to use from her parents. A beautiful young girl, don’t you think? This photo was taken at the beginning of this year.”
“Now, before me on this table are some pieces of evidence I gathered at the scene of her death. I will walk you through what is known thus far. Please be patient as I present the data. As the Judge said earlier, no one is required to speak at any time.
“First, the recently deceased JP Cotton Banks and I were called to the scene of her death approxim
ately sixty-two days ago at Moore’s Lake, east of town in a guest cabin. Inside, we found her hanged with this rope,” I said, pointing to the red-and-black lead rope. “She had apparently been standing on a stool, which we have in the evidence room but I did not bring to this hearing.
“She had apparently been burned or burned herself with a cigarette on the back of her left hand and on the middle of her left calf. While examining the scene, I recovered this Marlboro cigarette butt,” holding up the plastic package holding the butt. “It is to be noted that this butt has interesting markings on it. It has what appears to be black lipstick with yellow flakes on it.” As I spoke these words, I cast a slow glance around the room and past the cheerleaders. Britanee Phelps cast her eyes downward. “Ms. Couch also had on a small pinkie ring with the letter E on it when she was found deceased.
“Now, I will continue. Coming back to the rope in the other bag, it also has some distinguishing marks on it. Captain Burris, would you please come read the inscription on the brass clasp on the end?” Captain Burris buttoned his jacket as he stood, surprised he was asked such a question. I held the bag out to him and pointed at the clasp.
“It has the numbers 3404 on it,” Captain Burris said.
“Thank you, Captain. The investigation took me to where this particular lead rope was purchased. The number on the rope clasp is recorded by the owner of the store that sells them, Rose McDonald’s feed store. Rose is in attendance today. It turns out that the rope was purchased by Mr. Turtle Vines, the Spring High School agriculture teacher. Mr. Vines is also in attendance today. It is not uncommon for Mr. Vines to make purchases on behalf of the agriculture department, as he is in charge of all Spring School agriculture students and their animal projects. These are quite numerous.
“After interviewing Mr. Vines, it was noted that this particular lead rope was loaned out to one of the folks present in this room approximately one and a half months before the death of Jenna Couch.”