The Witness Series Bundle

by Rebecca Forster

  "Thank you," Faye said when she was sure the dribbling stopped.

  "You're welcome," Josie grumbled, then added 'sorry' before she started in again. "Jude threw me off. The testimony today threw me off. I didn't expect to win without a fight, but I didn't expect to be creamed and I don't know what went wrong. I wasn't thinking; my reaction time was down. I did not impeach any of those witnesses unless you call brow beating Carol Schmidt impeachment. I was trying to reconcile the testimony I was hearing about Archer with the man I know."

  "You're human, Josie."

  "No, it was more than that. I was judgmental. If Archer did anything to hurt that boy – subconsciously or spontaneously or with malice – it would be despicable and he should be convicted. That's the way I felt and that is wrong if I'm supposed to defend him."

  Faye shifted her considerable weight and leaned her chin on her upturned palm. She looked gorgeous. She was the original big, beautiful woman.

  "Well that's a switch. Seems not too long ago you were arguing that Hannah actually had a right to defend herself against an abusive man but you're not willing to go the distance for Archer. Not very lawyer-like of you, Josie," Faye scolded.

  "Don't be ridiculous. Apples and oranges," Josie insisted. "Archer wasn't abused. He's a grown man and he made it very clear that he did exactly what he wanted to do in that relationship."

  "Really?" Faye raised a well-shaped eyebrow. "If your client was anyone else you'd see it. You think Archer is the Rock of Gibraltar because he is always there for you, but the way I read it, Lexi did a big number on his head. That relationship was awfully complicated, Josie. It sounds like Lexi was badgering him day and night about Tim. She may have been weak because of the cancer, but that woman had an incredible strength of purpose from what I'm hearing. So Archer is sick with worry about his wife, watching her die, afraid for himself, still trying to be strong for her and she's beating up his brain every waking moment with guilt. Come on, Josie. Think about him now. You're so hurt he didn't spill his guts to you that you can't see to how Lexi manipulated him. I think a case could be made that Archer was psychologically abused."

  "Good defense, but we're talking about a man. It's risky. Nobody believes men can be abused." Josie picked up the ball, made to dribble, saw Faye raise a finger and put the ball back in her lap. "I was pretty arrogant thinking I could do this for him, wasn't I? I never thought he would need a defense because I would make this all go away. Just me."

  Josie leaned over that ball, cradling it like a child. The pull of her brow, the pursing of her lips told Faye that Josie was lost, second-guessing everyone, especially herself.

  "So retain new counsel," Faye suggested kindly. "Second seat whoever it is, but get a little distance if you don't think you can pull this off. You owe that to Archer."

  Josie turned her head and stared at nothing in particular. She thought. She sighed. She speculated.

  "If they blew it, I couldn't live with myself. If they won, Archer would never look at me the same way. I'd never look at myself the same way." Josie shook her head and bit her bottom lip. She swung her head around to look at Faye. "I'm missing something. I know I am."

  "Then tell me another story," Faye suggested. "One that gives Archer the benefit of the doubt."

  "All right. Fine." Josie took a minute to gather her thoughts. Slowly she sat up. She spoke cautiously. "At Greenwood I saw a skinny little man almost fight off a guy who looked like a linebacker." Josie paused; speaking in bullet points so both of them could hear her thoughts clearly. "So, what's the one thing everybody's always said about Tim? They said he was strong. Lexi couldn't control him. He was so strong and unpredictable that Archer had to keep him in line."

  "Was Tim upset the day he died?" Faye asked.

  Josie shook her head. "No. He was rambunctious enough for Eric Stevens to notice him in line. According to that same witness, though, Tim was calm when Archer strapped him on the ride."

  "Then you have to ask yourself if Tim's outbursts were intermittent. If you could prove that his moods and outbursts were unpredictable then you might make a case that he was causing trouble and somehow loosened his own restraint."

  "That's not what's on the tape." Josie almost dismissed the suggestion but caught herself in time to think again. "They were out of the camera's range for at least thirty seconds. We know there was a huge behavioral change in a forty-five minute span when Eric Stevens noticed him. But Eric Stevens couldn't have been watching every minute. Maybe Tim went through forty-five changes during that time. Could some uncontrollable urge have changed Tim's behavior in the thirty seconds he was out of camera range?

  "Maybe he had a sort of burst of activity, a sudden spasm. If he did, Archer could have been reaching across to try to stop it or control it. That's something he would do instinctively if it happened that fast."

  Josie's grin grew as she turned toward that new light at the end of the tunnel. It was bright and it illuminated the stage from a different angle, revealing Archer as hero not villain.

  "Let's use a different word, Josie," Faye suggested. "How about seizure? If Tim had a seizure, he could have burst the latch as his body was thrown against it. Once I talked to a woman – she was a teacher – who wanted to sue the family of a little epileptic girl. During a fit, the teacher tried to help and the kid hit her just right and broke her jaw. The teacher thought she was doing something good and ended up with her jaw wired for six months. But she assumed the risk when she tried to help. So, if Archer was aware of the seizure, he might have instinctively, or inadvertently, released the restraints because it seemed they were doing more harm than good. The consequences of helping were just worse than a broken jaw."

  "Whoa, Faye, that's good." Josie palmed her ball then put it down beside the chair. "That is really good. But the instinct argument won't fly. Even instinct would not drive a normal person to release that safety while the ride was moving. I wouldn't put it in a front of a jury."

  "Just thinking out loud," Faye said. "But Archer could have been startled by the seizure, reached across Tim and pulled that latch while he struggled to control Tim."

  "Absolutely. Yes," Josie agreed. "Barbara Vendy said they sent his medical records to Lexi. I'm going to find them and have an expert review them. I should have done it before the prelim. I gotta go."

  ***

  Josie took a rain check on the dinner Faye offered and then took the shortcut home. The porch light was off. Inside the house was dark and Josie was disappointed she couldn't count on Hannah for the simplest things. To be fair, though, it was just past dusk. Hardly the dead of night. Josie tossed the volleyball in the corner and dug in her pocket for her keys. Before she could find them, the door opened and any reprimand died on Josie's lips. Deathly pale, Hannah gripped the edge of the door. Blood stained the side of her mouth and her hair hung in a mess over her eyes, a rope hung around her neck.

  "Jesus," Josie whispered, unable to move. "What happened?"

  "What?" Hannah said back.

  "You're bleeding."

  Hannah threw out her hip and flipped the switch behind the door. The porch light flared, Josie blinked and her heart began beating again. Hannah wasn't pale, she was painted white. The blood didn't just trickle out of the side of her mouth; it gushed and was as thick as ketchup.

  "Halloween?" Hannah stated with the inflection of a resounding 'duh'.

  Max the Dog ambled through the doorway and gave Josie a tail wag. There was a bowl of candy on the table behind Hannah. She was just a kid ready to play her tricks on anyone who wanted a treat

  "Halloween. I forgot." Josie admitted.

  "I remembered," Hannah answered.

  "Well, put that bowl of candy on the porch. We've got work to do."

  CHAPTER 29

  The old springs groaned as Josie raised Archer's ancient garage door. His Hummer was wedged into the left side of the garage and the right was a mountain of neatly stacked and sealed boxes. Josie turn
ed on the wall light.

  "Where do we start?" Hannah walked into the cool, dark garage. It smelled of mold and old wood. She threw her arms out and did a deliberate pirouette. "There is so much stuff in here."

  "First, I'll move the car. Then we start at the top."

  Josie backed the Hummer out and spent too long trying to find a parking spot on Hermosa's narrow streets. She jogged backed, unhitched Archer's ladder off the hooks on the wall and got to work handing boxes down to Hannah.

  When Hannah called a halt, Josie climbed down. The girl was surrounded by boxes, overwhelmed by boxes, almost hidden by them. Methodically, Josie sliced through the tape on each of them and they began. It took no more than a cursory look to see most held nothing of value. Archer's old case files. Unused crockery. Junk.

  "What are we looking for again?" Hannah asked as she pushed aside a box and dug into the next.

  "Tim's medical records. Look for anything that has his name on it or anything that says Greenwood or has a doctor's name on it. If you find Lexi's records put them back. If you have any doubt, show me."

  "Okay. Hey, Josie, look at this. This is so cool." Hannah held up a leather jacket lined with rabbit fur.

  Hannah put on the jacket but Josie saw Lexi: her shape, her size, her style. She might as well be watching through the looking glass, seeing Lexi dressing to go out with Archer, Archer helping her off with the coat after an evening out. Archer making love to Lexi whose body was strong and compact. Where Josie could match Archer inch for inch, Lexi would be gathered up and protected. She had been a little thing to wear a jacket that small and knowing it made Josie feel big and unwieldy.

  "Put it back, Hannah." Josie turned away.

  "Do you think Archer would let me have it?" Without understanding that Josie could not bear looking at her if she wore it, Hannah took it off and folded it up. She reached the right conclusion for the wrong reason. "Never mind. You're right. I should put it back. Besides, I don't think Archer would give me the time of day. Nothing but clothes in here. Where's the tape?"

  Josie tossed the roll her way. Hannah brushed her hair out of her eyes and grunted when she lifted the box then scurried for cover when Billy Zuni poked his head in to see what was happening.

  He was on his way to Sharkeez to celebrate the day. Plastic leis had been added to his faded t-shirt. He was, he informed them, a Hawaiian pool boy. With a laugh, and a warning that he had better not try to get into Sharkeez until he was of age, Josie sent him on his way and closed the garage door behind him. Pulling on a string attached to the naked bulb in the middle of the ceiling she blinked. It took her a second to adjust to the bright light. When she did, she found Hannah burrowing in the back of one of the stacks. When Hannah reappeared, she was grinning.

  "I found Lexi's purse. It's got her wallet in it and everything."

  Scooting out from between the boxes, she sat cross-legged on the cold concrete and pulled back the heavy zipper of Lexi's bag. Josie joined her on the floor, reaching for the purse just as Hannah was beginning to poke around. Hannah relinquished it but stayed close as Josie inventoried the contents.

  "Picture." Josie took a good long look at it before handing it to Hannah.

  "He looks nice," Hannah whispered.

  Josie nodded. Tim Wren did look nice and he looked flawed and Lexi was beautiful despite the scarf that covered her baldhead. She looked adoringly at her son. One arm was around Tim's waist, in her other hand Lexi held a drink. She pulled him tight so that the odd angle of his arms seemed almost natural. What he was really doing was reaching for the water bottle Lexi held. It was a brilliant, natural moment caught through Archer's lens.

  But the picture wasn't taken with Archer's camera. It was a dated, timed Polaroid. Josie put it aside knowing it might have some significance for her defense. Hannah leaned against Josie's back, put her hands on Josie's shoulders and looked to see what would come out of the purse next. But Josie didn't want Hannah hanging on her just then and she braced at her touch. Hannah melted away gracefully in a well-practiced move. Disappear before you're rejected. It had been a lesson Hannah's mother taught her.

  "Pills," Josie muttered. She turned a little brown bottle so she could see the label. "Oral chemo."

  "I didn't know they had a pill for that," Hannah whispered. Josie didn't know much more than Hannah but she would find out. She pulled out another vial.

  "Celexa." This bottle was held up, too. "Lexi's."

  "Depression," Hannah said with the confidence of an expert.

  "Phenobarbital." The final vial.

  "What's that for?" Hannah had moved in close again. This time Josie let her stay.

  "I don't know. Pain, I imagine," Josie said as she gathered up the bottles "These were probably the only things that kept her going."

  "If she took them," Hannah mumbled. "I mean, you can't tell if she took them, can you?"

  "Want to second seat me?" Josie half joked, impressed with Hannah's observation.

  "No way would I ever want to be a lawyer," Hannah muttered as Josie opened the bottle and poured out the pills.

  "Twenty left on a count of thirty on the Phenobarb." She cupped her hand, poured them back in and secured the top. Josie took up the Celexa. "Almost full bottle. She filled it a week before the accident. Two gone and there should have been seven."

  "Maybe she had extras," Hannah suggested. "You know – a bottle she didn't finish so she poured them together."

  "Maybe she didn't think she needed them. Look at that picture. She looks happy," Josie said with a nod to the print.

  "It's fake. Nobody gets better if they have to take that stuff," Hannah agreed. "I used to toss my pills down the toilet when I thought I was all cured. Hey, what's that?"

  Hannah pointed out a small black pouch. Josie opened it, touched the few things inside as she spoke

  "Lipgloss. Lipstick. Mints. Mascara."

  She zipped the little black pouch up again, feeling as if she had trespassed on intimate territory. The live Lexi had painted her lips coral and then smiled at Archer. She carried mascara even though her eyelashes were gone along with the rest of her hair. The contents of the little purse made Josie feel less than a woman. She didn't color her lips or her cheeks. She didn't smile at Archer in the hope that he would notice that she was beautiful. Archer never asked her to do any of that but it didn't mean he wouldn't have appreciated the effort. Josie sighed and set aside the cosmetic bag. She didn't want to know this much about Lexi. She didn't want to know this much about herself so she began the hunt again.

  She found a plastic bottle with a mouthful of water left even after all these years. Josie dropped it back in the purse. Lexi's identification, her health card and a few dollars were inside her wallet. A small pack of Kleenex and a half-empty box of candy were there, too. Josie put everything back in the main compartment then dug into the side pockets.

  "Two tickets for the Shock & Drop." She showed them to Hannah. "Archer must have carried his own."

  Hannah took them almost reverently. She held the tickets between her fingers and lowered her lips as if she were kissing the bits of paper. She closed her eyes, remembering people she had never met.

  "I can feel them," she whispered.

  "Then tell them to give me a clue," Josie muttered, glancing back over her shoulder.

  Josie didn't need to channel through a pair of tickets to feel the deceit of that day: the forced cheer, the desperate attempt to make their time together seem normal. Lexi's pills, little bits of nothing that made her feel less of everything except love for her son. The cosmetics were packed as if she cared about freshening her lipstick. The picture attested to the love Lexi had for Tim and the thoughtlessness for herself. The water bottle that would revive her when she felt tired, or help her get the pills down when the pain came. The tickets that had been anxiously folded over and over until they were just a sliver of paper, and this. . .

  Here was evidence that Archer told a
t least one truth. Josie was holding Lexi's list, her plan for one, perfectly happy day, written in her own hand. The writing was a little shaky but very deliberate. Get up. Confirm Greenwood. Shower. Take medicine. Fix water bottle. Pack purse. Pick up Tim. On and on and on the list went making note of the rides they would take, the food they would eat, when it was time for medicine. Each little note was crossed off as the task was accomplished.

  "Look." Hannah reached over Josie's shoulder, pointing at the final notation. A whimsical The End had been crossed out by a weak hand.

  Hannah stayed still as Josie put the list back where she had found it. Before she closed the bag Josie paused, disturbed not by what she found but by what she hadn't. There was nothing to remember Archer. Lexi had not asked anyone to take a picture of them as a family. She carried no picture of him in her wallet. He was not mentioned on the list. Archer was off camera, out of mind. No wonder he was hurt. He had been little more than a servant that day – or maybe everyday. Certainly Archer loved Lexi but suddenly Josie was wondering exactly how much Lexi loved Archer.

  Lost in thought, Josie had forgotten Hannah until she heard a familiar sound. It was the rhythmic tapping that signaled Hannah's distress. Josie looked behind her. Hannah was sitting among the boxes, watching Josie, tapping to twenty before beginning again. Josie stood up and went to the girl. Bending, she took Hannah's hand in both her own.

  "Do you want to get out of here?" Josie asked. Hannah nodded. "Okay. Grab a box. We'll take some of this back to the house.'

  Hannah smiled, relieved and grateful. She didn't want to look through a dead woman's bag anymore. She did not want to think about a dead boy because, if her own mother had her way, Hannah would probably be dead, too. Happy to be leaving, Hannah took the first box she could reach but Josie stopped her.