The Alibi

by Marilyn Baron

  “Y-Yes.”

  “Speak up, Mr. Starnes.”

  “Yes.”

  “Had you ever seen Miss Braddock in her nightgown before?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “I can only imagine what was going through your mind.”

  “Objection!”

  “Were you in love with Savannah Braddock? Now remember, you’re under oath.”

  “Y-Yes,” Roy admitted without hesitation.

  “And did she return your feelings?”

  “N-No.”

  “And why was that?”

  “She was in love with someone else.”

  “And is that someone else in this courtroom?”

  Roy pointed to the director.

  “Let the record show the witness has identified Willard Ware Baintree, Director of the Florida Division of Corrections.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “It was c-common knowledge.”

  “If it was common knowledge, then why can’t we get one person in the division to testify to that fact?”

  “I d-don’t know.” Sweat was pouring off Roy’s face. He patted his forehead with a handkerchief.

  “Didn’t you, in fact, come to the home of Miss Braddock to profess your love, and when she told you she was pregnant with another man’s child, you offered to marry her?”

  “I offered to give her my name. It made me sick to think that someone had violated her and deserted her that way. That a Christian man, a married man, had done this to her.”

  “A man you had worked with for fifteen years? A man you looked up to and respected?”

  “Y-Yes.”

  “And when you saw Miss Braddock in her negligee, and accused the director of violating her, what did she say?”

  She laughed and said, “I’m in love with the director.”

  “And how did that make you feel when she laughed at you and rejected your very chivalrous offer?”

  “I wanted to get away from her. I needed to get out of there.”

  “Didn’t you, in fact, want to lash out at her? Didn’t you pick up the first weapon you saw, which was the kitchen knife, and stab her and her unborn child to death? No one could blame you. It was clearly a crime of passion.”

  Roy’s body shook. “No, I did not and would never do that.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I left.”

  “Weren’t you, in fact, so enraged that you wanted to kill her because you knew you would never have her and you didn’t want anyone else to have her?”

  Roy glared at the director like he wanted to jump out of the witness stand and choke him.

  Roy’s tone was measured. “I’m not a violent man.”

  “Mr. Starnes, Roy, love does mysterious things to people.”

  “That’s not the way it happened.”

  “Then tell the court exactly how it happened.”

  “I walked away. I just walked away.”

  “You want us to believe that you just walked away? That you didn’t seek revenge?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And when did you find out that Miss Braddock had been murdered?”

  “The next morning when I came to work. Everybody was talking about it.”

  “And how did you feel?”

  “Sick to my stomach. And guilty.”

  The courtroom erupted again.

  “Order in the court,” yelled the judge, banging his gavel.

  “Guilty?” the prosecutor prompted. “Of her murder?”

  “Guilty that I didn’t stay with her and spend the night, that I didn’t protect her. If I had stayed, this never would have happened.”

  “No further questions for this witness.”

  The director and Miss Julia were sitting in the front row, holding hands, presenting a solid front for the world. I glared at the back of the director’s neck, for all the good that did. He was going to let an innocent man go to prison, maybe to his death, and say nothing. I imagined Roy Starnes sitting in Old Sparky, his hands strapped down, waiting for his execution. And he expected me to say nothing. I wanted to raise my hand, to shout out, “He didn’t do it. The director is the guilty one!”

  But of course nothing is exactly what I did.

  “This court will recess for lunch, and we’ll resume back here at two o’clock.”

  I was going to be sick.

  I made my way out of the courtroom and felt a firm hand on my shoulder.

  “Miss Saxe. Is everything all right?” The skin around the director’s eyes was creased, and he looked concerned, probably about his own hide, not about me.

  “No, everything is not all right,” I whispered.

  “Miss Saxe,” he said, exasperated. “Merritt. What is it going to take to convince you?”

  “Willard.” Miss Julia came up behind us. “We need to leave now if we’re going to have lunch and be back by two. And you need to pack for your trip.”

  The director winced and removed his hand from my shoulder. “I’ll be right along, dear.”

  Miss Julia glared at me. I rolled my eyes. The director, the God of the prison system, the fierce warrior, everyone’s hero, was seriously henpecked. No wonder he took up with another woman. A woman a good deal more pliant than Miss Julia.

  “We’ll talk later,” he promised.

  I shrugged. No doubt we would. I was getting sick of all this intrigue, with the intimate meetings filled with lies and game playing. I just wanted out, and I was trapped for all intents and purposes.

  I had told the director I wasn’t going to testify to anything in court. It looked like I wasn’t going to be needed anyway. No one was even looking in the director’s direction. The good-old-boy network was in fine form, prosecuting the innocent and protecting the guilty. The whole thing made me sick.

  I drove over to a local sandwich shop near the courthouse and ordered a pastrami on rye to go. Of course the proprietors had no idea what real pastrami tasted like. Theirs was lean and tasteless, not a bit of fat or flavor. And they typically served it cold, on white bread. With mayonnaise. Yecch. What I wouldn’t give for a juicy hot pastrami on rye at Wolfie’s on Miami Beach. Thanksgiving was a week away, but it couldn’t come soon enough.

  After the recess, the defense presented evidence of several ex-cons who might have had a motive for harming Miss Braddock. Files that came directly from the file room across from my office, files I myself had researched. But no matter how many red herrings were presented, things were looking bad for the prime suspect, Roy Starnes. The police needed a villain, and the lovesick, timid Roy Starnes fit the bill very nicely, thank you very much. No matter that Roy Starnes couldn’t hurt a fly. And that I knew who had really committed the crime. No one was going to let the truth get in the way of the pursuit of justice. Roy Starnes was going down the river on his way to a date with Old Sparky. And I was the only one who could stop this runaway train.

  Sitting in my car, waiting for court to restart, I wiped the excess mustard off the bread with several napkins. I could hardly eat a bite, I was so distraught. And the pastrami was so bad. God forbid someone in this town could learn how to make a decent bagel. I went back to the courthouse and dumped my inedible sandwich into the nearest trash bin.

  The judge was addressing the jury, and finally I heard the words I’d been waiting for: “This courtroom is recessed until the Monday after the Thanksgiving holiday.”

  I ran out of there before the director could get to me and headed for the office.

  My bags were already packed for Thanksgiving, I was so anxious to leave, but Peggy had left me in charge, and I was going to do my best to make her proud, over the next couple of days. So I did my time at Peggy’s desk and, miracle of miracles, nothing bad happened. Not even a mini-crisis, the kind that set my heart racing and got Peggy’s juices flowing. I was content with the status quo.

  Peggy returned Wednesday afternoon, energized no doubt by the one-on-one time she’d spent with the director, and I rac
ed to my car to get a jump on the holiday traffic. By tomorrow, the turnpike would be clogged with travelers. I had a solid six-hour drive, but anything was better than being stuck in Watertown over the Thanksgiving holiday. My mother was a great cook, and after our family dinner, Daniel was picking me up, and we were going to park at the Miami airport along with all the other couples who had nowhere more private to go to get their release in the darkness. And after that, I was going to propose to Daniel, or at least get him to propose to me, or issue the promise of a proposal.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was great to be home and surrounded by family and some of the best food I’d tasted since I left Miami. The turkey and stuffing were delicious, accompanied by biscuits, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, green beans, and followed of course by the tasty assortment of pies—coconut cream, pumpkin, and key lime. I was stuffed and sleepy but excited about seeing Daniel. When he arrived at my house, he spent some time talking to my parents and, impatient to be alone, we finally left together. He drove to the empty lot across from the Miami airport and parked. But we didn’t spend any time watching the airport lights or the planes taking off or landing.

  “I missed you, Merritt,” Daniel said. He had undressed me in record time, and we had just made love in the back seat. Our slick bodies were tangled together. “And I missed this.”

  “I missed you, too,” I said, breathless. “I wish we could be together like this all the time.”

  “We will be.”

  “I can’t wait two and a half more years,” I complained, wasting a pout that couldn’t be seen in the dark.

  “Merritt,” he said, fondling me. I thought I was in a good negotiating position, as we were both still naked and sated.

  “I know what you’re going to say. You have to finish law school, blah, blah, blah. But how do I know you won’t find another girl while I’m waiting for three years? How do I know you haven’t already found someone else?”

  I folded my arms under my breasts.

  Daniel silenced me with a kiss. “You know you’re the one, the only one.”

  Another wasted pout. “I need more.”

  I could feel his smile on my lips, and then his lips licked my nipple and locked onto my breast. “You’re not satisfied?” he mumbled. “Let me see what we can do about that.” His hand went lower, and I moaned. Then he moved my hand down to caress him, and by the way he responded, he made it clear he and his buddy were up for another round.

  “Exactly what kind of promise do you want, baby?” he said.

  “Daniel, that’s not what I mean, and you know it. I need a commitment. I can’t hold out for three years without a promise of something.”

  He stopped in mid-motion, and then I felt his frown. He pulled us both up to a sitting position.

  “Do you want a ring?”

  “Only if you want to give me one.”

  “There’s something else I want to give you right now, if you’d just relax.”

  Sure, I was as horny as the next person, and I definitely wanted what Daniel had to give me. But I wanted more.

  “I thought that’s what you wanted too.”

  “Merritt, honey, I want the whole works with you. But right now I have to concentrate on finishing law school and getting a job. I’m focusing on our future.”

  “I feel like you’re moving on in your life and leaving me behind, out in the cold.”

  He put his arms around me. “Baby, let me warm you up.” He kissed my lips and tried to divert my attention by kissing me all over my body. “I think I know what you need, Merritt.”

  “No,” I said, pushing him away. “I don’t think you do. I’m tired of waiting. I want to start our life together now, and if that’s not what you want too, then take me home.”

  “Merritt, you don’t mean that.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Daniel sighed in frustration. “Okay.”

  We each began dressing. I climbed into the front seat, and Daniel followed, into the driver’s seat.

  “Who have you been talking to?”

  “I haven’t been talking to anyone.”

  “Is it because Evan and Kate are getting married? And Deb and Donny just got engaged?”

  “No,” I insisted. “But those are two very good reasons. If you really loved me, you would marry me, or at least we could become engaged. I don’t want to go back to Watertown.” I felt like a broken record. How many times did I have to say the same thing?

  “Is there something wrong at work?”

  I bit my lip. Here was the perfect opportunity to tell him about my boss and the cover-up. But I was too mad to confide in him.

  “I want to come up to Charlottesville. I can find a job there.”

  Daniel started the car.

  “You have a great job in your field. You’re not going to find another public relations job in Virginia, in this economy.”

  “I don’t care about the job. I care about you. And obviously you don’t care about me.”

  “Merritt, we’re wasting time. We only have tonight to be together alone like this. I have to spend the rest of my vacation with my family.”

  “All you care about is sex. That’s not what I mean.”

  “Okay, obviously something is wrong and I don’t know what it is. We had a plan to wait until l finished law school and then we’d get married.”

  “Well, plans change.”

  “Merritt. I love you, but I can’t afford a wife, not now.”

  “You could if you wanted to. We could find a way.”

  Daniel drove out of the parking lot, past all the other cars with all the other lovers making love, sharing plans, or arguing. Once he was back in heavy Miami traffic, he focused on the road.

  When we pulled up to my house, he stopped the car and turned to kiss me goodnight.

  I pushed him away.

  “Merritt, is this how you want to leave things?”

  “No, but apparently you do.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Don’t call me,” I snapped, opening the car door.

  “Merritt!” he shouted, but I turned my back on him and walked to the front door. I fumbled for my keys and finally let myself in without a backward glance. It was very dramatic, but I was only hurting myself. I would cry later, but not in front of Daniel. This night did not go as planned. I had been so certain it would end with a proposal. But instead, it just ended everything. Daniel did call repeatedly throughout the weekend, but I didn’t take the calls, and I didn’t see him before he flew back to Virginia and I drove back to Watertown.

  I guess we were officially broken up. Now he had the freedom to flirt, to find someone else. I was sick about the whole thing, even though I knew I had only myself to blame.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I was back in the courtroom. I had to take another day off, since there was no official reason for me to be there. Peggy certainly didn’t understand why I needed to go to court, but she suspected it had something to do with the director, something she wasn’t privy to. It had her puzzled, but she didn’t refuse my request.

  Things were looking bad for Roy Starnes. The prosecution was constructing a timeline. Savannah Braddock had attended the director’s barbecue the night before she was murdered. Sometime that evening or in the early morning hours she was visited by Roy Starnes, and then she was found dead the next morning.

  What they left out was the fact that she, Merritt Saxe, had received a call from the director to pick him up at the victim’s condo that morning, and that he had appeared at the door in a bloodstained shirt. And that they hadn’t called the police. How long after Roy’s visit had the director arrived? Did he in fact discover her body, or did he murder her? I knew the answer to that question, but it was as if I were stuck in stone. I couldn’t move; I couldn’t talk. I was going to let poor innocent Roy Starnes go to jail, or worse, for a crime he didn’t commit. If the director had truly just discovered the body, then why didn’t he call the police?
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  I also knew the answer to that question. Because the police would have asked what he was doing at Savannah’s condo in the morning, visiting the victim in her nightgown. If they had proof of the personal relationship between the director and the victim, chances were Roy Starnes would be a free man. I was the only one who had that proof.

  The defense was parading all kinds of character witnesses. The highlight was when Willard Ware Baintree took the stand and, under oath, swore to the jury that the Roy Starnes he knew, who had worked for him for fifteen years, was incapable of hurting anyone. It was still his contention that a relative of one of the men Miss Braddock had sent to prison was the killer.

  The director had the jury eating out of his hands. If they had cast the part of Willard Ware Baintree in a movie, the director could have played himself. She could almost see the women on the jury swooning, glued to his every word. Willard Ware Baintree was a superstar in Watertown.

  In the end, Roy Starnes was found not guilty, and the case remained unsolved.

  I looked at the director, and he looked relieved that an innocent man, a man on his staff, had been spared. He smiled.

  So here I was, back at work, without a boyfriend, in a town I hated, working for a boss I didn’t especially like, with the head of the division a person I didn’t trust. But I planned to put one foot in front of another and keep going. I didn’t have a choice. If I wanted a change, if I didn’t want to end up a spinster, I needed a plan. I was going to have to start paying attention to other men.

  Back then, they didn’t have match.com or J-Date, and I didn’t want to get picked up at a bar or even a bowling alley, which Watertown actually had. But Watertown Lanes offered slim pickings. So I had a good job and no love life. Could I live with that?

  When I got back to my desk, I looked around the office and recalled the parade of men that used Peggy’s office as a revolving door for a cup of coffee, a smile, and some juicy gossip. But as good looking, macho, and rugged as some of them were, I didn’t see any romantic prospects.

  If I stayed in Watertown, I would end up like Peggy. Unless I wanted to marry a prison superintendant or a correctional officer or an inmate on the work release program. Or a sheriff. I sighed. Not that there was anything wrong with those men. Sexy as some of them were, we had nothing in common.