A River of Silence

by Susan Clayton-Goldner

  When she finished, Kendra asked one final question. “Do you have any idea why your former husband repeatedly referred to Skyler Sterling on the 9-1-1 tape you just heard as ‘she’?”

  “Objection, Your Honor.” Clearly disturbed by the testimony that could go a long way in invalidating the defendant’s motivation, Marshall leaped to his feet, his chair scraping the floor behind him. “This calls for an opinion.”

  “Sustained,” Judge Shapiro ruled.

  “I’ll withdraw the question,” Kendra said. The dimple on the side of her cheek deepened slightly, but she didn’t actually smile.

  Bryce understood Kendra asked that question, knowing Marshall would object. But it didn’t matter. Thanks to Valerie, everyone in the courtroom understood what happened inside his head during that awful phone call to 9-1-1.

  Andrew Marshall stood perfectly still for a moment, then took a breath deep enough to raise his shoulders. “I have no questions for this witness.”

  Valerie returned to her seat near the back of the courtroom.

  Marshall called Scott Sterling to the stand.

  When Scott climbed up the steps leading to the witness stand, Bryce’s heart ached for the little boy. He looked so scared. Scott was dressed in a pair of new jeans and a western shirt. His cowboy boots were clean and polished, and his red hair recently cut and slicked back. Bryce wondered where Scotty spent the last month and how he coped with the death of his little brother.

  As the boy settled into the chair, Reggie nodded to him from his seat in the front row. Scott was barely visible behind the wooden stand and the clerk smiled as he toted in a booster chair to raise the little boy high enough for the jury to see him. The clerk then asked him to hold up his right hand and promise to tell the truth and nothing else. Scott promised.

  Marshall’s expression was sympathetic and he smiled. “You remember me, don’t you, Scott?”

  “Yes.” Scott nodded, but he kept his gaze on his mother who sat in the third row back with a grief-stricken expression on her face.

  “Just try to relax,” Marshall said. “You have nothing to be afraid of. I’m going to ask you a few questions and all you have to do is tell me the answer. And if you don’t know, that’s okay, too. Just say, ‘I don’t know’.”

  “Okay,” Scott said, leaning back a little bit.

  “Could you tell me your whole name?”

  “Scott Allen Sterling,” he said emphatically, tilting his head a little bit to the right.

  A warm chuckle arose from the jury.

  Bryce saw what Kendra meant—they already loved the little boy.

  “Do you know what the truth is, Scott?”

  “Sure, I do.” He looked at his mother again and she nodded for him to go on. “That’s when you tell something the way it really, really happened.”

  “Very good,” Marshall said. “And how about a lie? What’s a lie, Scott?”

  “It’s when you play pretend. When you make something up that didn’t really happen.”

  “Excellent,” Marshall said, again smiling at Scott. “You’re a smart little boy.”

  Scott grinned back at him.

  “And how old are you, Scott?”

  “I’m four and a half.”

  “Do you know that man sitting over there?” Marshall pointed at Bryce.

  “Sure,” Scott said, taking a quick sideways glance toward the defense table. “That’s Bryce. Caleb Bryce.”

  “And you and your mom and Skyler used to live in the same house with him. Is that right?”

  “Yeah.” Scott lowered his head and added, “But Skyler died already.”

  Marshall bowed his head, shaking it slightly from side to side, a gesture of pity. “Yes, I know. And I’ll bet you miss him a lot, don’t you?”

  “My mom cries sometimes when she talks about him. But me and Dad don’t. We’re braver.”

  Several members of the jury smiled.

  “When you lived with Bryce.” Marshall nodded again toward the defense table. “What did he call you?”

  “You mean my name?” Scott wrinkled his nose and glanced at his father who signaled his approval with a somber nod.

  “Yes,” Marshall confirmed, his arms folded over his chest.

  “Scott. He always called me just plain Scott. Or sometimes Scotty.” The boy shrugged, as if to say what a stupid question, but Bryce knew where Marshall was headed.

  “What did he call Skyler?”

  “Cockroach.”

  There was a loud sucking sound from the jury, as if all of them had inhaled in unison.

  “He always called him that,” Scott added.

  “Do you know what a cockroach is, Scott?”

  Understanding Kendra’s fear about Scott’s testimony now, Bryce swallowed hard, but kept his eyes on the little boy just as Kendra instructed him to do.

  “Sure.” Scott nodded, as if pleased he could answer his question. “It’s a bug. A yucky, poopy, brown one. It’s kind of long and skinny.”

  A few giggles erupted from the jury.

  Marshall took a step toward the witness box, his left hand slipped into this pants pocket. “Have you ever seen a cockroach in real life?”

  “Sure.” Scott grinned, as if he were happy with his knowledge. “One time we had millions of them in the house. Under the sink and stuff. Sometimes in the bathtub. They’re really, really, really gross.”

  “What did you do with them?”

  “I didn’t do nothing with them. But Bryce, he smashed them with his foot, then he flushed them down the toilet. Finally, a stermanator man came. And we had to go live in a motel so he could put poison in the house to kill them.”

  Again, the jury sucked in a combined breath, and despite Kendra’s orders, Bryce couldn’t help himself and he lowered his gaze, stared at the shiny top of the defense table.

  “Scott, did Bryce ever hit you?”

  “Yeah. Really hard, and it hurt, too. He hated me.” Although Scott’s gaze was already focused on his lap, he lowered it ever further, pushing his head down, too, as if trying to escape into himself. “He was bad to me and said he was going to murder me.” The boy shot a quick glance at his father.

  Oh my God, Bryce thought. I did say that. How could I have said something so awful to that poor little boy?

  “Thank you, Scott. You’ve been a big help.”

  It was late in the afternoon when the prosecution finished its examination of Scott Sterling and Judge Shapiro recessed for the day before Kendra had a chance to cross-examine.

  The boy’s testimony was damaging. But the child didn’t lie, and as he stepped down from the witness box, Bryce’s impulse was to reach out and hug him, to assure Scott Allen Sterling that he didn’t mean what he said that night. He didn’t hate him and he could never, not ever, do anything to hurt him.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  As Bryce entered the courtroom the following morning, his gaze darted around the room for Scott. He found him on Dana’s lap, her arms wrapped around the boy’s narrow shoulders.

  When Kendra called Scott to the stand for his cross-examination, the boy strutted across the courtroom. Again, he was dressed in blue jeans, with a different western shirt. Knowing what to anticipate this time, he climbed into the witness box a bit more confidently, the booster chair already placed by the bailiff.

  Kendra introduced herself to Scott and chatted a few minutes, reminding him that he was still sworn in and that meant he had to keep on telling the truth, just like he did the day before.

  “I will,” Scott announced.

  “Skyler Sterling was your baby brother, right?”

  “Sure,” the boy said, his forehead furrowing. “Everybody already knows that. Except my dad said Skyler was only my half-brother. I don’t know how you get half a brother.”

  Several jurors smiled. Someone behind Bryce laughed out loud.

  “Dad and me, we didn’t like Skyler very much. He screamed a lot.”

  “But you played with him sometime
s, right?” Kendra stood slightly to the left of the witness stand, close enough to appear friendly, but not so close as to intimidate the little boy. “You played together in the special playhouse, right?”

  “Yeah. It was really fun. We put our stuffed animals inside and pretended like they were our kids.”

  “And sometimes Bryce played, too, didn’t he?”

  “He always played with Skyler. He liked him better than me.” Scott’s lower lip trembled.

  Kendra stood quietly for a moment, her arms bent, hands woven together in front of her. “Why do you think Bryce liked Skyler more than you?”

  “Because he had a special name for him. And he made him a playhouse and only put that special name on it. He didn’t make me nothin’.”

  “Tell me about the playhouse.” Kendra’s voice raised a little, as if very interested in what Scott had to say. “What did it look like?”

  “It was so big I could stand up inside it…and really, really cool. It had windows and a door and everything. I helped Bryce paint blue shutters on it.” He stared directly at Kendra, then added, “And I stayed inside the lines he drew really good.”

  Kendra addressed the bailiff and retrieved one of her defense exhibits, an eleven-by-fourteen photo of the cardboard playhouse. After identifying it to the court, she presented it to Scott who said it was the playhouse he and Bryce made for Skyler. The words Cockroach’s House were clearly legible over the doorway. Kendra handed it to the bailiff who passed it around the jury.

  “Scott,” Kendra said. “I want you to think real hard now. Do you remember the night Skyler got hurt?”

  “I was sleeping,” he said, raising his chin. “I didn’t even know he died. Bryce lied. He said Skyler would be okay.”

  “Did that make you angry, Scott?”

  “Yeah, I hate him.” He pointed his index finger toward Bryce, but didn’t look up.

  “Do you remember what happened in the daytime before you were sleeping?”

  “Bryce hit me.” His gaze darted to the defense table and then quickly away.

  “Why do you think he hit you, Scott?”

  “Objection,” Marshall said. “Calls for an opinion.”

  “Acknowledged,” Shapiro replied. “But I’ll overrule in this instance.” The judge directed his next words at Scott. “Tell Ms. Palmer why you think Bryce hit you.”

  “Because I wanted ice cream.”

  Aware that wasn’t the answer Kendra anticipated, Bryce held his breath.

  She backed up a step, then treaded forward again, smiling at Scott. “Did Skyler fall down the steps that day?”

  “Yeah, but it wasn’t my fault.” His gaze dropped to his lap, then raised again. He searched the courtroom, then connected with his mother. “The door—it just falled open.”

  “Where was Bryce when the door opened?”

  “He was on the sofa with his hurt leg up on the chair.”

  “Sometimes baby brothers make us mad, don’t they, Scott?”

  The boy shrugged. “I guess so.”

  “Did you ever bite Skyler?”

  “Objection.” Marshall raised his voice slightly. “She’s leading the witness.”

  “Overruled.” Judge Shapiro wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. “Answer the question, Scott.”

  “Yeah,” Scott said. “But that time in the bathtub was an accident. I only wanted to blubber his tummy, but his penis got in the way.”

  The courtroom grew silent.

  “Were you angry with Skyler?”

  “He always knocked over my forts and stuff. And then he laughed about it, like it was really funny or something.”

  “What did you do when Skyler knocked down your forts?”

  “Mostly I just pushed him away. Mom got real mad when I bit him or hit him. She said he was littler. It wasn’t fair.”

  “Did you push him the day he fell down the steps?”

  “Not very hard.” Scott frowned and stared at the ceiling. “The dumb door was broke.”

  “Yeah,” Kendra said, sympathy in her voice. “And that wasn’t your fault, was it?”

  “No.”

  “What did Bryce do when Skyler fell down the steps?”

  “He jumped off the sofa real fast and ran outside and picked him up and hugged him and stuff.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I was scared he’d be mad like Mom gets when I hurt Skyler. So, I ran behind a house and climbed up a tree. Really, really high.”

  “Did Bryce find you?”

  “Yeah.” The boy wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “He said I had to go to bed.”

  “And you didn’t want to do that, did you?”

  “It wasn’t even dark yet. Besides, he’s not my real dad.” Scott paused and pointed to Reggie Sterling. “That’s my real dad over there. He says Bryce is a jerk and he can’t boss me around.”

  Kendra nodded. “It’s hard when big people who aren’t our real parents tell us what to do, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. But I showed him. I bit his arm really hard. He bleeded and everything.” Scott paused for a moment, swiped his top lip with his tongue. “I kicked him, too. It wasn’t my fault. Dumb door.”

  “Yeah,” Kendra agreed. “I get real mad too when I think things aren’t fair. Is that when Bryce hit you? After you bit him?”

  “No, he didn’t hit me then.”

  “When did he hit you, Scott?”

  “After I spit on him.” Again, the boy’s head lowered and Kendra waited patiently until Scott lifted his eyes and said, “I don’t wanna talk anymore.”

  “Okay. I just have two more little bitty questions and all you have to say is yes or no.”

  “All right,” Scott muttered.

  “Did Bryce ever hit you before the night Skyler fell out the front door?”

  Scott appeared to be thinking and he didn’t move or blink for a second.

  Bryce held his breath. Said a silent prayer that Scott would continue to tell the truth.

  “Nope. That’s the only time.”

  “Did you ever see him hit Skyler?”

  “No. No. No.” Scott punctuated each no with a shake of his head, then added, “He wouldn’t never hit Skyler.”

  Bryce breathed.

  Relief flooded over Kendra’s face.

  Bryce lowered his head in an attempt to hide the tears puddling in his eyes.

  “All right, Scott,” Kendra said. “You did a very good job. Thanks for telling the truth. You’re a brave little boy.”

  * * *

  After a fifteen-minute break, Kendra called Reggie Sterling to the stand for her cross-examination and reminded him he was still under oath to tell the truth. Reggie was dressed in an expensive grey suit, with a black silk shirt and black and red striped tie. His black loafers were polished to a bright shine.

  “Is it true you were hospitalized at the Sunrise Drug and Alcohol Rehabilitation Center for alcohol addiction?”

  “I thought medical records were confidential,” he said. “Protected under some government regulation or something?”

  “That’s true,” Kendra said. “Most of the time. But not in a murder case.”

  “Since you already know, I might as well tell you. I was going through a hard time after Dana and Scott left. And I drank too much. I wouldn’t call it an addiction. But my father was worried, so he did an intervention and I completed the program at Sunrise.”

  “Were you given the drug Haloperidol for the treatment of your delirium tremors?”

  “Yes. But I didn’t leave the center with a prescription in my pocket if that’s what you’re driving at.”

  “Did you take it from the nurses’ cart?”

  “No way. I’m not a thief. Why would I?”

  Kendra changed her line of questioning. Hopefully, the fact that Reggie had a connection to the drug would help create reasonable doubt in the jurors’ minds. “Is it true you divorced Dana because you believed Skyler was not your biological son?”

 
; “Yes. And can you blame me? Dana didn’t even have the good sense to lie. She admitted to screwing around on me. What was I supposed to do? A man has to have a little pride.”

  “Did you have Skyler’s DNA tested?”

  “No.”

  “So, you had no real proof of paternity at the time of the divorce.”

  “That’s right. I didn’t need proof. I could tell by looking at the kid.”

  “As a matter of fact, with your permission, Detective Radhauser had your DNA compared to DNA the medical examiner had taken from Skyler. We got the results back yesterday, Mr. Sterling. The match was ninety-nine point nine percent conclusive. It proves you are indeed Skyler’s birth father.”

  Reggie’s head spun around as if it had been struck by a fist. For a second, he seemed almost speechless. “I don’t believe you. He looks nothing like me.”

  Kendra read his face. It was filled with righteous conviction.

  She handed him the DNA results.

  He studied them. Something passed over him, like a shadow crossing in front of the sun. His face drained of color and his whole body trembled. He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Skyler,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.” Reggie dropped his head into his hands and howled. It was one of the worst sounds Kendra had ever heard. A mournful, animal-like sound that came up from his chest and reverberated across the courtroom.

  * * *

  The prosecution completed its case against Caleb Bryce on Thursday afternoon and Judge Shapiro opted to recess rather than start the defense so late in the day.

  “Marshall’s running scared,” Kendra announced to Bryce as they reviewed the day’s findings in the courthouse basement. “He wants to make a deal. They drop the murder one charge and you plead guilty to manslaughter.”

  Bryce pushed his chair away from the table and stretched out his bad leg. “What exactly does that mean?”

  Kendra leaned forward, her elbows on the table as if settling in for a long explanation. “Manslaughter is the unlawful killing of another without malice, either expressed or implied. It may be in a fit of rage when two people are fighting and one kills the other, or while in the commission of some unlawful act.”