Wall of Silence

by Dorey Whittaker

Turning her gaze toward Lisa with an obvious look of pride, she answered, “Yes, for quite awhile. You need to understand. Lisa didn’t trust anyone. She was angry, hostile, and her nerves were shot. She had a hard time cleaning up her body from years of drugs and alcohol abuse, but she was determined to beat it. I never saw a girl want to get clean as much as she did.”

  Duncan stood up and walked over to the witness stand. “Mrs. Bascom, how long did it take Lisa to win you over?”

  Ruth Bascom, being a very savvy witness, knew what Duncan was asking. “Mr. Duncan, it took her two years. Not because she messed up, but because I couldn’t afford to make a mistake in judgment. I worked that girl hard. For the first whole year she stayed in the kitchen cleaning every pot, pan, cookie sheet, and oven I owned. I slowly started teaching her how to bake, and you should have seen the look on that girl’s face the first time a customer complimented one of her cakes. You would have thought she’d won a beauty contest.”

  Several of the jurors chuckled at this, and Duncan knew she was winning them over. He stepped over and stood beside her and asked, “So, when did you feel comfortable giving Lisa more responsibility?”

  Ruth knew the jury was responding to her, so she was going to take full advantage of her age and experience. “Well, Mr. Duncan, for three whole years I watched that girl like an old hound watches a raccoon he’s treed.” Several of the jurors smiled at this familiar old southern saying.

  Ruth smiled back and then continued. “I couldn’t afford to make an error in judgment; my livelihood was at stake. After watching that girl grow and change, I realized the girl I’d hired three years earlier no longer existed. In her place was a lovely, trustworthy, hard-working woman whom I love dearly.”

  Duncan smiled at her comment. She was doing a great job. “Mrs. Bascom, after that three years, you started giving Lisa more and more responsibility. Can you tell us some of those responsibilities?”

  “By her third anniversary, she was already my lead baker. Although she enjoyed the front counter, baking was her passion. By the end of her fourth year, she had become the chief baker, with five other women taking their directions from her. She was responsible for everyone’s schedule, as well as large-party orders such as weddings and banquets. She even got us the standing orders for the fire department and city hall cafeterias. Everyone at my bakery, including all my customers, absolutely adore Lisa. For the past five years, Lisa has been responsible for all the bank deposits and bakery security.”

  It was almost noon when Mr. Duncan finished with Mrs. Bascom. He knew Mr. Gordon was furious at the freedom the judge was allowing him. As he took his seat, he wondered if Gordon would dare cross-examine Mrs. Bascom. Sure enough, as he sat next to Lisa, Gordon stood up, straightened his jacket, and swaggered up to the witness box with arrogance that surprised even the judge. Duncan glanced at Judge Kirkley and gave him a look like, “What is he doing?” He received in return a shrug of the judge’s shoulders, a puzzled look on his face.

  Stepping up to the witness box, Gordon asked, “Now, Mrs. Bascom. Are we to believe you were willing to hire a drug-using, drug-selling prostitute and hand over the keys of your business to her, allowing her to handle your deposits, and there was never any money missing?”

  Mrs. Bascom had listened to about as much from this man as she could stand. Deciding to simply ignore Mr. Gordon, Mrs. Bascom turned confidently to the jury, smiled, and responded, “Do you really think I would entrust my life’s work into the hands of a person like he just described? I have watched this woman grow into a respectable, caring, loving person over these past eleven years, and she could not have done what they say she did.”

  Mrs. Bascom then smiled at Gordon, like a mother smiles at a disobedient child she is about to scold. “Mr. Gordon, like I said, I didn’t automatically turn anything over to Lisa Miller. I worked her like a dog in the back kitchen for almost three years before she was even allowed to see one of my customers, let alone be responsible for having a set of keys or touch my money. I’m not a stupid person, Mr. Gordon, but sometimes in order to stay human, you have to take a chance on people. Lisa Miller had never been given a chance in her whole life. Gladys and I thought it was time somebody did. I know this world does not believe people can change and, without some real help, maybe they can’t. But one thing I do know. If a person is willing to let God help them, and people like Gladys Carter are willing to trust God to help and protect them while they love these people in Jesus’ name, anyone can change. I have come to love that woman sitting over there like my own daughter, as has Gladys Carter. Personally, I think it would take the two of us treating her as a daughter for the rest of her life to make up for having had that woman”—she pointed toward Marjorie Miller—“for a mother her first seventeen years of her life.”

  With this final statement, Mr. Gordon dismissed Mrs. Bascom.

  Duncan couldn’t help but chuckle as Gordon returned to his seat. Boy, had he picked on the wrong woman. If he wasn’t so angry at the man for deliberately trying to hurt his client, he could almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

  Banging the mallet on his desk, Judge Kirkley called the courtroom to order. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, some court business has come up that requires a two-day delay of this trial, which will carry us into the weekend. Because of this, I have decided this is a good time to stop today’s session since I do not want us in the middle of testimony with a four-day break coming.”

  After reminding them to refrain from drawing any conclusions or talking about the case with anyone, Judge Kirkley instructed, “Bailiff, please escort the jury out of the courtroom while everyone else remains seated.”

  As soon as they were removed, Judge Kirkley gave Lisa a fatherly smile, knowing what was now ahead of her, and then removed himself to his chamber.

  Duncan quickly signaled Officer Jackson to remove Lisa before the family came down to talk with her. “I’ll give them a one-hour break and then assemble them in the conference room. You go to the restroom, have some lunch, and get yourself ready. I’ll call for you when we’re all in there. Lisa, it’s going to be all right. They’ll understand once you explain. Don’t worry; it’s almost over.”

  As prearranged, Officer Ben Jackson escorted Lisa out of the courtroom while Mr. Duncan played interference. Stepping into the aisle in front of them, he raised his hand in a halting fashion. “Lisa won’t be having lunch with you today, but she’ll see you in a little while.” Then, trying to distract their attention from Lisa, he said, “You ladies were amazing. Did you see those jurors looking over at Lisa, obviously filled with respect and compassion? They were told, and they believed, that Lisa has changed. You did a wonderful job.”

  After giving everyone else a chance to chime in and give their own bravos, Mr. Duncan suggested they all take a few minutes to use the restrooms, get a quick bite to eat at the lunch cart, and then meet him in the conference room at one o’clock. “Since we’ve been given this afternoon off, there are some things we need to cover. It’s important, so I’d like all of you to attend.”

  It was obvious this was all he was going to say, so everyone picked up their things and headed out. He had said it in such a matter-of-fact manner no one suspected there was anything afoot. Duncan studied them as they enjoyed the exuberance of this morning’s testimony, thinking, You’re quite a family. If ever anyone needed to find and be accepted into a family like yours, these two girls did. You have quite a shock ahead of you, but you’ll be fine. You’ll handle it just fine.

  Chapter 37

  At one o’clock Scott, Susan, Bill, Caroline, Aunt Gladys, Mrs. Bascom, Carol Anne and Harry were all seated in the large conference room at the end of the hall, quietly talking, when Duncan entered the room. The seriousness of his expression immediately unnerved them.

  As he took his seat, Susan asked, “Mr. Duncan, is something going on? I know there is. I’ve suspected something for days.”

  “Yes, Susan, you’re right. There has been something going
on. But before I have Lisa brought in, I wanted to talk with you all. Over the past several days, some startling new information has come to my attention. I haven’t been able to talk about it until now because Judge Kirkley needed to help me clear up some possible problems that might occur as a result. I needed some assurances that certain people would be protected, and I needed some help getting the timing of this information properly coordinated. What you’re going to hear will shock you, but I wanted you to hear it in here, not out there in the courtroom, and I wanted you to hear it from Lisa.”

  A thousand questions were flying around in Susan’s head. She tried not to jump to conclusions, but this was scaring her, and knowing how Lisa had been behaving wasn’t helping.

  Mr. Duncan got up and asked the officer to bring Lisa in.

  A few moments later she walked in and took a seat. She was visibly nervous, and as soon as the officer left the room and closed the door, Susan asked, “Lisa, what’s going on?”

  Lisa didn’t look up or comment.

  Scott looked from Duncan to Lisa and then back to Duncan. “So can you tell us what’s going on here?”

  Duncan took his seat next to Lisa, and placing his hand on her arm to reassure her, he got the ball rolling. “Well, I’ve suspected something for several months. I wasn’t sure if Lisa was so traumatized that night that she couldn’t remember everything—or worse, that she could be keeping the truth from us. As you have heard in the courtroom, something was not right about her story, but she stuck by her account of that night, even though the evidence contradicted her. I’m obliged to defend my client the way she mandates—that is, as long as she doesn’t ask me to lie or expect me to put her on the stand and allow her to knowingly lie.” Duncan then turned to Lisa and asked, “Would it be easier for you if I tell them?”

  With an almost inaudible voice, she said, “No. I will. I caused all this mess.”

  Looking over at her sister for the first time, Lisa took a deep breath and began to tell what really happened the night of the murder.

  “I let the girls leave a little early that night. They had dinner plans, and I knew they wanted to get home and fix themselves up. Besides, business is always slow the last two hours on Saturdays. I knew I’d have my two regular customers picking up their Sunday morning baked goods but didn’t really expect more than one or two other stray customers stopping in. I didn’t mind cleaning up the kitchen alone, so they finished up around five-thirty and took off. My regulars came in around a quarter to six and then I went into the kitchen and started cleaning the cookie sheets.

  “Around six-fifteen I heard the entry bell signal that someone had entered the shop. I headed out front to service them and didn’t really look at the customer at first. I noticed it was a fairly young woman and headed behind the counter where she was standing.”

  Glancing over at Gladys, Lisa hesitated for a moment and then continued. “That’s when I got my first really good look at her. I instantly knew who she was and why she was there. I could have picked her out of a thousand people. I had feared this day for twenty-two years.”

  As Duncan placed his arm around her for moral support, Lisa looked directly into her sister’s eyes and said, “I was looking into the face of my one and only daughter.”

  Seeing the look of pure astonishment on her sister’s face, Lisa struggled on. “Her name is Hope. Can you believe it? They named my little girl Hope. I love it, Susan.”

  Looking over at Aunt Gladys and seeing that same supportive smile she had always known helped Lisa continue. “Aunt Gladys, she’s a lovely young woman. Not a stunning beauty like our Lisa Anne, but very pretty. She reminds me of myself when I was young. That is, before my life took its toll on me. She finished college last spring and is engaged to marry a young man she has known most of her life.”

  Seeing hurt and disbelief mixing on Susan’s face, she turned directly to her sister and pleaded, “You don’t know how many times I wanted to tell you about her. I just couldn’t. At first, I didn’t want to. I was such a mess back then, and you were such a goody-goody. Susan, I couldn’t keep her. As much as I hated Mother, I knew I was too much like her to trust myself with a baby. Besides, I was living on the street. How could I care for a baby? As it was, I had to steal to keep myself fed while carrying her. I couldn’t go to anyone for help for fear of being sent back home because I was still a minor. You see, I knew I was pregnant when I ran away. I didn’t get pregnant on the street, Susan. I know who the father is. He was the only person, besides you, who ever loved me. When I discovered I was expecting, I knew I had to run. We were both still in high school, and you know what Dad would have done to him for bringing shame to his house. I couldn’t risk being beaten again—not for me but for my baby.”

  Susan nodded in agreement. She knew exactly what their father would have done to both of them for bringing such shame upon him. As she listened to her sister talk, she tried to figure out how she was feeling. Hurt, definitely. Maybe a little angry for not being trusted with the truth, but mostly bewildered. This was so out of the blue, so unexpected.

  “Susan, I didn’t start the drugs and prostitution until after I gave her up. At least I did that one thing right. I didn’t hurt my baby. I gave her a chance at a better life than we had. After I gave her up, I didn’t really care what happened to me. I found if I kept myself doped up I could sort of forget about her and didn’t have to think about what I had to do to keep myself supplied. Then days turned to months, and months turned to years. I know it was stupid, but in a sick way it helped. As you know, I spent some time in jail and then on probation. When I was finally free, I wanted to get away from California. I didn’t want to watch every little girl passing by and have to wonder if that was my little girl. I wanted to get far away. That’s why I came back to Georgia.”

  “Lisa, why didn’t you tell me then? I would have understood.” There wasn’t anger in Susan’s voice, only confusion and disbelief.

  “By the time I moved here she was five years old, and I didn’t want to think about her. My life was over. I was twenty-two but felt one hundred. It’s strange, but from day to day I didn’t think about how I felt about myself. It wasn’t an issue. It was only when you came around to see me that I struggled with what I was doing. I would only feel when you were around. That’s why I didn’t like you around.

  “Anyway, the longer I went without telling you, the harder it got. You and Aunt Gladys were so good to me. Then you and Scott lost your baby. How could I tell you I had given mine away? I watched you struggle with your grief and couldn’t tell you I knew how you were feeling. I couldn’t share the pain your loss was causing me. You had forgiven me for so much, but I didn’t quite trust this wouldn’t be the one thing you couldn’t get past. Why should you? I never have.”

  “But, Lisa, I’ve always forgiven you. When have I ever turned my back on you?”

  Wanting desperately for her sister to understand, Lisa pleaded, “Remember the night Lisa Anne was born? I was so happy for you. You were finally getting your little girl, and then, Scott, you invited me into the delivery room. Watching you in labor flooded my mind with the memory of my own labor, knowing I had to give my baby away when it was over. Then, standing there looking into Lisa Anne’s little face, I ached for my own little girl. I wanted to scream, ‘I have one too,’ but it was too late. I had waited too long to tell the truth, and I found myself a prisoner behind a wall of silence I had built. I was a prisoner of my own making.”

  Duncan gently suggested, “This is a lot to absorb. There are lots of issues, and we aren’t going to be able to settle twenty-two years’ of secrets here today. Why don’t we get back to that night?”

  Lisa cleared her throat and slowly began the story of what really happened that night. “Well, at first she pretended to be interested in buying some baked goods. She ordered a dozen cookies and then some pastries. I knew she was testing the water, telling me she was in town to visit some long-lost relatives. She said something about thinki
ng it would be nice to bring along some baked goods to warm up the meeting. I knew she was studying me, and I had no idea how to respond. I found myself groping for casual words, while in my head I was pleading, Don’t pursue this. I don’t want you to know what I was. Why didn’t you just leave it alone?

  “All of a sudden I heard sort of a gurgling sound come from her throat. I knew she was trying to get up the nerve to say something. I wanted to help break the tension but didn’t know how. As casually as I could, I simply smiled at her and asked, ‘How have you been?’

  “Relief flooded her face and she took a deep breath and said, ‘I’ve been fine. You know who I am, don’t you?’

  “I told her I was pretty sure. I told her I’ve wondered if this day would ever happen. How in lots of ways I’d longed for it, but in other ways I’ve dreaded it, much the same way she would, once we’d talked. I suggested she follow me into the kitchen so I could make a pot of coffee and continue cleaning as we talked. At first we talked about her. Was she happy? Were they good to her? Where did she grow up? Was she married? Were there grandchildren?

  “Anyway, she told me all about her life. How she loves her parents and that they were good to her. She was raised in a good home with two other adopted children. She said that since they were all adopted, it was always an open topic of conversation. The oldest, a boy, didn’t have any interest in finding his birth parents, but she and her younger sister did. Their parents told them when they reached eighteen, if they still wanted to find their birth family they would help them. Because of my fear of our parents finding out about her, I had lied about my age and had demanded a closed adoption. I wanted the records sealed. I couldn’t take the chance of our parents getting their hands on her. As a result, they had a hard time tracking me down. It took them several years of letter writing and petitioning the courts for access to her birth records. When they finally got the information, they had to find me. That took awhile. Once they were sure I was the Lisa Miller they were looking for, Hope wanted to come alone. She didn’t want to write a letter or make a phone call because she was afraid I would turn her down. She wanted to meet me face to face.”