The Witness Series Bundle

by Rebecca Forster

  "You can't keep me out of that room," Linda hissed. "I'm her mother."

  Josie looked at Linda, unmoved by such outrage. It was too little too late. Josie stepped to the bar, close enough to smell Linda's expensive perfume, to see the little scar on the side of her lip twitch.

  "I can do what I damn well please," Josie assured her coldly.

  "You're going to kill her. I told you that in the beginning. It was just a matter of time before she went nuts. Tell the judge now. Tell him you want to talk to the prosecutor about a plea."

  Josie looked at the empty jury box. She could hear Linda's voice but Josie's mind was elsewhere. Her entire defense would have to change now and she wasn't clear what direction it would take. Self-defense? Battered woman's syndrome? All Josie knew was that Linda hadn't just ignored her daughter's pain; she had inflicted it on Hannah with her selfishness. Finally, she looked at Linda.

  "You are disgusting. Did you think I wouldn't find out what Rayburn was doing? Why didn't you tell me up front? What was there to protect? Your husband? Your reputation? It would have all been so different if you just told me."

  "I don't know what you're talking about," Linda snapped, but she'd gone pale. She took hold of Josie's arm. "What are you going to do? What did Hannah tell you?"

  "You'll know when everyone else does," Josie growled. "Now let go of me and sit down, or I swear I'll make this worse for you than it needs to be."

  "Josie, I don't know what Hannah told you. . ."

  But Josie had turned her back. People were watching. Linda sat down, pulling herself tall, squaring her shoulders. Behind her, spectators were filing in, wondering about Hannah and judging Linda. Linda hated judgment. How could they know anything about her life? How could these people – the press, the spectators, the vacant faced bailiff and clerk, the jury and even the judge himself – presume to think they knew anything about Linda, or the way she had raised her daughter, or the things she had to do to survive? It sickened Linda Rayburn to think that anyone felt superior to her – even if it was only their perception.

  Linda threw back her head, turning just as Rudy Klein walked past. He fixed his eyes on her until he pushed through the swinging gate of the bar. Unnerved, Linda's chin dropped and her hand went to her throat. There was something in those eyes of his that put her off as sharply as if he had poked her with a stick; as if she was a rock he was trying to turn to see what crawling things were underneath.

  Then the judge was seated, the court reporter's hands were poised above her machine, and Kip was being called back to the stand for Josie's cross. Kip stopped to touch Linda's hand. That was all it took to put her on the right track again. The end was too close to let anything knock them off course. Finally Kip seemed to understand that.

  Judge Norris instructed the jury to attend to the matters at hand and gave Josie the nod. Standing in front of Kip Rayburn, Josie clasped her hands low, planted her feet and led with her strength.

  "Mr. Rayburn, isn't it true that your father, Justice Fritz Rayburn, abused you?"

  The silence lasted exactly five seconds before the buzz started.

  What did she say? Did I hear that right?

  "Objection, Your Honor!" Rudy called out, on his feet, as pale as his witness. "This is outrageous and beyond the scope."

  Josie was quick and fierce. Her head snapped toward the bench for only as long as it took to explain herself.

  "Goes to credibility, Judge."

  "Request a sidebar, Your Honor," Rudy demanded.

  Norris crooked a finger, simultaneously calling for quiet, threatening to clear the courtroom if he didn't get what he wanted. Josie went reluctantly, unwilling to take her eyes off Kip Rayburn. She wanted him to feel the depth of her disdain. Norris covered the microphone on the bench and leaned forward. Rudy went first. He was so incensed Josie feared he would combust.

  "Your Honor, this is outrageous. Ms. Bates will have a chance to present her case but to abuse this witness with histrionics is blatant sensationalism and demeans this court."

  "Oh please," Josie shot back in disgust. "You opened the door. This witness has testified to the kind nature of Justice Rayburn. He has painted a picture of a selfless man bent only on helping my client and that is, quite simply, untrue according to my client. I should be allowed to explore the character of the victim since the prosecutor is holding that character up to scrutiny."

  "She is right counselor," Norris ruled.

  "Then limit the scope, Your Honor," Rudy pleaded. "Allow Mr. Rayburn to testify only to what he experienced in regard to the defendant."

  "Your witness is already on the record regarding his insights into Justice Rayburn's treatment of my client. If you limit me, I will have no way of discrediting his testimony without him admitting to perjury. Please, Your Honor. This girl deserves every opportunity to prove her truthfulness."

  Norris hesitated. This case had taken a turn that would whip public interest to a frenzy and that worried him. He was already hearing the sound bites, the debates, and the speculation that would erupt on talk shows and in the press. A California Supreme Court Justice had gone from saint to sinner and it was clear Josie Baylor-Bates was going to milk this for all it was worth. Still, he had a job to do. Much as he hated to, Norris would let this play out.

  "Overruled, Mr. Klein. Step back."

  Rudy went back to his corner, unnerved by the ruling. He was barely seated when Josie closed in on Kip Rayburn. The man looked gray. His hair seemed to have thinned. He seemed to have wilted inside his suit. Then she saw a spark deep in his eyes. Kip wasn't afraid. He was examining the predator and the nature of her attack in order to protect himself. That meant only one thing. Hannah hadn't lied.

  "Mr. Rayburn. I ask you again, when did your father, Fritz Rayburn, start abusing you?"

  "I am not going to answer that."

  "Your Honor, permission to treat as hostile." Josie never took her eyes off Kip Rayburn as she circled and left him open to the jury's scrutiny.

  "So directed." Norris instructed.

  Josie inclined her head in thanks. She could now demand his answers, insist on the truth, pound at his responses until she was satisfied her client had been well served.

  "Do you need the question read back, Mr. Rayburn?" Josie asked.

  Kip let his eyes linger on Josie for a minute. His expression was condescending. His gaze wandered to Linda. Josie could feel the minute their eyes locked. Methodically he surveyed the spectators and the jury. Finally, disdainfully, Kip Rayburn answered the question.

  "My father never abused me, Ms. Bates."

  "Did Justice Rayburn use a wooden paddle on you when you were eight?"

  "Yes."

  "When you were twelve did your father cut your right index finger so deep that it exposed the bone and took twenty-seven stitches to close it up?"

  "That was an accident. He was trying to show me how to whittle," Kip said.

  "With a carving knife, Mr. Rayburn?" Josie asked disdainfully.

  "You had to be there, Ms. Bates," he answered.

  "And on your ninth birthday did your father lock you in the closet with a. . ."

  "This is ridiculous." Kip Rayburn muttered. One hand went to his mouth; the other was cocked back on the arm of the witness chair.

  "Mr. Rayburn, you are directed–" Judge Norris began but Kip had other ideas.

  "No. I will not be directed to talk about things that are personal. The way my father and I dealt with one another is no one's business. This isn't about me. It's about her." Kip tossed his head toward the empty defense table.

  "Fine," Josie stepped forward. "Then tell us this, Mr. Rayburn, did your father abuse Hannah Sheraton?"

  "Of course not," Kip snorted.

  "Verbally?"

  "No."

  "Emotionally?"

  "No."

  "Did he touch her, Mr. Rayburn?"

  "Only in the way a concerned old man would touch a ch
ild he cared about."

  "Did he physically discipline her?" Josie snapped.

  "He disciplined her within reason," Kip shot back.

  "Did that include burning her with wax from a candle, Mr. Rayburn?"

  "I beg your pardon."

  "Wax. Hot wax on her thigh. Hot enough to burn through a summer skirt. Did your father do that?"

  "No! I mean, how would I know? I didn't monitor my father's behavior."

  "Considering the way your father disciplined you, don't you think you should have watched how the great Justice Rayburn interacted with the defendant?"

  "Hannah was a big girl. . ."

  "So you're saying that your father only abused small children. Is that what you're saying?"

  "No, that's not what I'm saying. Do not twist my words. You cannot twist them to suit you. Hannah was the one who abused my father. Hannah was the one. . ."

  Josie threw herself back into the courtroom, her arms raised in disbelief.

  "Hannah was fourteen when she came to live in your home and barely fifteen when your father first took an interest in her. We've all seen her. She weighs one hundred pounds, and you want to tell this court that she was the one who abused. . ."

  "Objection," Rudy roared. "Counsel is blatantly badgering this witness."

  Forgetting Kip Rayburn Josie turned on Rudy.

  "What is outrageous is that my client is on trial when it is the Rayburn family that should be held accountable for what they have done to her. How far did you look for a perpetrator, Mr. Klein? How far were you willing to go to sacrifice a child so that you could make a name for yourself – or was it to protect the reputation of a dead judge?" Josie's eyes slid to Kip. "Or is your office protecting the next Justice Rayburn, Mr. Klein?"

  "Ms. Bates, that is enough," Judge Norris warned.

  "No, I want to know. Were you afraid if you tried to find the real criminal someone might have dug up the fact that Fritz Rayburn wasn't such a good guy after all?"

  "That's ridiculous. Your client had the means and the opportunity. Your client set that fire." Rudy was half out of his seat, outraged at the turn of events.

  "That is enough!" Norris roared and his gavel crashed onto his desk.

  Josie took too many steps back, moving so close to Kip that she could almost touch the wooden railing between them. She rerouted herself again. It was wrong to be so aggressive, so outraged. Righteous indignation would help her client, not an attack. The silence was deafening. Rudy Klein sat down. Josie pulled herself together.

  "Continue with this witness in an appropriate manner, Ms. Bates or you will be sanctioned."

  She turned toward the jury then back again, her head bowed in thought. Rudy fumed in his chair. Josie was composed once more.

  "Is it true your father was abusive to you, yes or no?"

  "No."

  "Mr. Rayburn isn't it true that in the two days before his death you and your father fought violently."

  "I wouldn't characterize it that way," Kip answered.

  "Did you argue?"

  "Yes."

  "What did you argue about?"

  "A business matter."

  "During that business disagreement, were you so outraged that you threw a glass decanter at your father?"

  "Yes. It was a mistake."

  "Did you resolve the matter?"

  "We would have," Kip replied.

  "So at the time of his death, you still harbored ill will toward your father for a current transgression. Yes or no."

  "No."

  Josie didn't give him time to breathe.

  "Did you harbor ill will toward him for his treatment of you as a child?"

  Kip swallowed hard and answered, "No."

  "Were you upset that your father paid so much attention to the defendant."

  "I didn't think it was healthy."

  "You didn't think it was healthy," Josie reiterated. "That's an interesting choice of words, Mr. Rayburn. For whom was it unhealthy? For Hannah Sheraton?"

  Kip ignored the question and answered as he liked. "There was an unhealthy concern on my father's part for a girl who didn't know the value of his attention."

  "Are you still contending that your father only had Hannah Sheraton's best interests at heart?"

  "Yes." Kip leaned forward in his chair, daring her to take this further. Josie pulled herself to her full height, a small smile on her lips.

  "Mr. Rayburn, do you know the penalty for perjury?"

  "Yes, I do."

  "Then answer this question truthfully. Was your stepdaughter abused by Justice Fritz Rayburn?"

  Kip couldn't contain himself any longer. He stood up and leaned over the railing of the witness box. His tone was cruel, and his plain eyes seemed dead.

  "If I had any knowledge of abuse in my home I would gladly tell you because then everyone would see that Hannah is a murderer. If my father did such a despicable thing, if any of what you said was true, at least that little shit would have a decent motive for killing my father. Or didn't that occur to you, you bitch?"

  Time stopped. The courtroom reverberated with the echoes of Kip Rayburn's fury. His face, so ordinary in repose, took on angles and shadows carved by the twin blades of raw emotion and brutal honesty. He trembled as he stood looking down on Josie Baylor-Bates. His hatred of her was palpable. She took a step forward, holding out her right hand as if to ask the judge to give her a moment. It was Josie and Kip in that instant. Everyone else faded to black and the camera captured them in close-up.

  "If everything I said is true," Josie said firmly, "then Hannah isn't the only one with a motive to kill your father is she, Mr. Rayburn?"

  CHAPTER 22

  "In my chambers!" – Judge Cy Norris

  "Sit down!"

  Judge Norris bellowed as he swept into his chambers. He yanked at the zipper on his robes and fought his way out of them. Behind him Linda and Kip, Rudy and Josie scattered. Linda took a chair, as did Rudy. Josie and Kip stood on opposite sides of the room.

  "Your Honor," Josie began.

  "Not yet. Not yet, Ms. Bates. You just give me a minute here to cool my jets." Norris huffed. Adrenalin kept him from his seat. Behind the desk he paced like a caged animal; long strides in a short space. His hands were on the side of his head before they landed on his hips. The temperate looking man who had initially taken the bench had a formidable temper.

  Finally he stopped, grasped the back of his chair, and hung his head. In the silence that ensued he finally sat down, tented his fingers and looked at them. He was, in a word, appalled.

  "Mr. Rayburn. I will not accept that kind of behavior in my courtroom. Period. And I am disturbed to think that your behavior might be repeated in your own courtroom were the governor to allow you to take the bench."

  "It isn't my courtroom I'd worry about, it is your own."

  "Mr. Rayburn," Norris snapped.

  "This entire trial is a farce." Kip sounded off. "You've enabled that woman to degrade these proceedings by attacking me and my father in public when she had every opportunity to ask me those same questions before this trial began. This is a calculated attack."

  "You will show this court respect, sir," Judge Norris intoned, "because you have no standing except as a witness here."

  "It doesn't matter when I ask a question," Josie insisted, ready to fight with Kip. "I expect a truthful answer. If you were going to turn a blind eye to what was happening in your own home then I had no choice but to bring it to the court's attention." Josie whipped her head toward Judge Norris. "Your Honor, I request a continuance. I need more time to fully prepare now that I have this information. I need to see what bearing the victim's behavior, this witnesses' behavior, has on my case."

  "Your Honor," Rudy jumped in. "There is no need to put the court out because Ms. Bates' client has been less than forthcoming. The defense has had ample time to uncover and investigate all aspects of this matter. We aren't talking about
forensics that need additional testing, or an eye witness that needs to be located."

  "I should say not," Kip drawled. "There couldn't be a witness, or evidence, because nothing happened to that girl. Ask my wife. Ask her."

  All eyes turned toward Linda. She sat with her knees together, her hands fisted in her lap. Her face was the color of chalk, her eyes cold as ice as she stared at Josie.

  "Why are you doing this to us?" Linda lifted her hands slightly.

  "Did you know, Linda? Did you?" Josie asked quietly. But Linda didn't answer. She turned to Judge Norris.

  "Your Honor, my daughter is ill. She lives in a world of fantasy. Hannah lives in her own mind. She paints pictures; she makes up lives for herself. She smokes marijuana. She reinvents herself every. . ."

  "Linda!" Josie cried. "What are you saying? Hannah has been abused, and she has the scars to prove it."

  Linda dropped her head before swinging it toward Josie, glaring at her from beneath her long lashes.

  "Don't you dare tell me about my daughter, Josie."

  "I'm not. I'm asking you to look at her objectively. Look at what that man did to her," Josie pleaded.

  "And I'm telling you to look again." Linda shook back her hair and sat up straighter. "You always could tell a fake when we played ball, Josie. You should be able to tell one now."

  Josie's eyes narrowed. Something was wrong. It was there in Linda's tone, the shadow behind the eyes.

  "This isn't sport, and Hannah isn't my opponent, Linda," Josie said cautiously.

  "No, this isn't sport," Linda whispered before finding some strength and starting again. "Hannah is a sick girl who has taken up every minute of my life with worry. I don't mind for myself, but she can ruin my husband's career, and the reputation of a fine man who died a tragic death." She turned toward Rudy then to Judge Norris. "How can you let this happen? How can you let her insinuate these things? Whatever Ms. Bates believes she saw, Hannah probably did it to herself; whatever she told you are the imagining of a lonely teenager who has never fit in anywhere." She turned her gaze back to Josie. "This isn't helping Hannah, Josie. This isn't helping any of us."

  Kip stepped in.