The Witness Series Bundle

by Rebecca Forster

  "No, Hannah, don't bother with that one, it's too small. It won't have what we're looking for." Josie motioned to the white box, taped and twined.

  Hannah tucked it back into the stack, rolled her eyes and hoisted one of the big ones. Josie took two. They passed costumed revelers headed to the bars and restaurants. The women wore rabbit tails on their tight rears, spangled devil horns in their long hair. The men had hats or masks and everyone was having a great time, including Josie who talked with Hannah all the way home.

  They dumped their boxes in the living room and Max went to Hannah for a pet. She ruffled his ears and took him out as naturally as if she'd been doing it all her life. Josie was going through the mail when she got back.

  "It's good to be home," Hannah sighed.

  Startled, Josie looked up. Hannah called this place her home when all this time Josie had thought of her as a long-term visitor. Funny, Josie didn't mind at all and that was big. That one word also revealed what was at the heart of Lexi and Archer's problem. In its simplest form, what Lexi wanted was Archer's promise that his house could be Tim's home.

  Josie tossed the mail aside. She would not make the mistakes her mother or Hannah's mother or even Lexi had made. She would even forget Jude and Archer for a while. She was doing her best and Hannah had just told her that was enough. Josie put her hand on Hannah's shoulder.

  "Come on, I'll fix you a sandwich."

  The evening came and went as Hannah talked about school and how she couldn't abide Billy Zuni. She talked about clothes and wondered how her mother was faring in the prison. Her fingers tapped. She checked the refrigerator to make sure it was closed every time Josie opened it. But the manifestations of her compulsions now seemed habit rather than necessity. Through it all, they opened the front door and handed out treats until the candy was gone and Hannah went to her room. A minute later music pulsated through the closed door. Josie opened the boxes they had brought home but found nothing important in them. She would go to Archer's again in the morning.

  In her bedroom, Josie watched the news, sketched out theories, tried out strategies and rerouted them when they led to dead ends and finally fell asleep. When she woke the bedroom was dark, the television had been turned off. Hannah had covered Josie during one of her trips to make sure Josie hadn't left her alone. Josie touched the blanket and smiled. As obsessions went, Hannah's wasn't a bad one. The thought in her head wasn't bad either. In fact, it was bordering on brilliant.

  Tossing off the blanket, running a hand over her face to bring the blood up, Josie got out of bed. In the living room, she switched on the table lamp and rummaged through the files she had accumulated for the preliminary hearing. A second later, she was sitting cross-legged on the floor watching Pacific Park's security video of Tim's death. When she was positive that she hadn't imagined what she was seeing, Josie pushed her back up against the couch, took the phone and dialed Jude Getts. He sounded sleepy. When he heard Josie's voice, he was peeved. Before he could hang up Josie said:

  "Call Colin Wren. Do whatever you have to do, say whatever you have to say, but I want his permission to exhume Tim's body."

  CHAPTER 30

  Josie sat with her legs crossed at the ankles, her head back against the wall and the rest of her body resting uncomfortably on one of the few chairs in Doctor Chow's waiting room. Though she was exhausted, Josie couldn't relax as they waited for the results of Timothy Wren's autopsy. She had hardly rested in the last weeks since her late night call to Jude.

  As Josie expected, he didn't put up a fight when she dangled a settlement carrot on the end of this new stick. Colin Wren, though, had been harder to convince. He had heard the evidence against Archer, watched the tape and seen Archer's fury in action. Colin didn't want his son's body exhumed to prove a defense theory born of desperation. Colin wanted Tim to rest in peace. That was the crack in Colin Wren's door and Jude pushed through it. Tim, he said, could never rest if there was the slightest possibility that they were trying to right one wrong by committing another.

  Colin had railed, he hedged, and he let loose a flow of rage toward Archer the likes of which Jude had never heard. Jude listened patiently because he only wanted one thing: permission to exhume. Spent, Colin eventually gave it.

  The request had been made, approved and the wheels put in motion before he could change his mind. At the cemetery, Josie stood apart, leaning against a tree, her hands in the pocket of her jacket as the backhoe bit into the hardened ground. The day had been cold. The Los Angeles sky was clear but thunderheads billowed over the local mountains. A biting wind blew leaves off the trees and tumbled them across the grass. In the distance, a family decorated a child's grave with balloons and teddy bears. Josie watched, fascinated by such devotion. It was as if they believed that bringing the trappings of childhood to this place would allow them to play with their spirit child.

  Then the backhoe strained to lift the dirt and Josie's attention was drawn back to the business at hand. Tim's last resting place was marked by a flat piece of bronze etched with his name, the date of his birth and death. Nothing more. Tortured. Angry. Broken. Victim. Those were not words to carry into eternity.

  No one had been to his grave since he died: Archer because he had no ties to the boy, Colin because, according to him, he had no idea that his son was dead. Josie glanced his way, wondering if she believed that or if it even mattered anymore. Josie supposed it mattered to Colin, this fantasy of his. To her it was a reminder that Archer had a wife and her name was Lexi and she was gone, too. Buried beside her son, her grave spoke more to Archer's devotion than to Lexi's life. The headstone was simple but expensive and tasteful. Two words were etched into the marble.

  Beloved Wife.

  Again and again, Josie's eyes went to those words and they mocked her. If she were to die there would be no etching on her stone. She was not a daughter. Her mother was gone to parts unknown, her father was dead. She was not a mother. The child in her home had been rescued, not born. Josie was not a wife nor was she a mistress. She was a modern woman who loved Archer in the modern way. They had shared no legal commitment only a deep and abiding respect, a love that was tempered by the knowledge they could both walk away if they so desired. That was not enough to earn the title beloved and she wasn't even sure they shared. . .

  "It shouldn't be much longer."

  Jude came to stand beside her. He wore an overcoat, overkill for Southern California but that was Jude. He was trying to make amends for the harsh words he had levied against her when Colin decided to withdraw his lawsuit against Pacific Park. Jude asked about Archer. Had it gone well when she told him about her theory? Josie had shrugged. How could it go when your lover was sitting across from you in prison garb? How could it go when hope rested in a speculation and nothing more? The way it went was that Archer was pissed, he was mean, and he was getting grief inside now that he had been moved to the general population.

  Josie answered Jude's question with a noncommittal 'fine'. It was the best she could do. Everything else was too complicated.

  After that, Jude and Josie had nothing more to say to one another so they watched Colin inch closer to Tim's grave, close enough to make the backhoe operator stop work until Colin backed off. He didn't stay gone long. It was as if he expected to see Tim and Josie thought it was just a little bit sick to carry his fantasy that far.

  But all that was days ago and now Josie started as her foot was kicked. The present wasn't any more pleasant than the cemetery had been. Josie looked askance as Jude slid into the chair next to her, sitting so close their shoulders touched.

  "I thought you said the doctor was ready to talk to us?"

  Colin had not agreed to reopen the case against Pacific Park even if Josie's theory played out. That put Jude on the wire again. That made him unhappy so he took it out on Josie.

  "That was the message I got from the doctor," she said. "I told your secretary you didn't have to be here. I would have called with t
he results."

  "Are you kidding?" Jude sat up straighter. "Colin is about ready to jump out of his skin. I swear, we had better get to court on this or it's just throwing good money after bad. More hours wasted."

  "Good, Jude. I had almost forgotten we don't exactly see things the same way."

  Josie crossed her arms. She closed her eyes so she would not have to look at Jude. In a pathologist's waiting room, everything about Jude seemed excessive; an overabundance of all life had to offer in a place where death stripped everything away. She must have sighed. He actually figured it out.

  "Sorry," he said and Josie felt him relax beside her. "This place gives me the creeps. There's a reason I work with money."

  Jude tapped out a few notes with the toe of his shoe then rested his forearms on his knees as he looked at his client. Josie opened her eyes and looked, too. Colin Wren was leaning against the wall outside the door. Josie and Jude could see him through the large windows that were set deep into the wall.

  "He's not happy with this idea of yours," Jude muttered.

  "You'd think he'd want to know the truth about Tim's death even if it means that no one was responsible," she speculated.

  "You still don't get it. It's not just that his kid died, it's all those years that he was cut out of Tim's life."

  "Archer didn't have anything to do with that."

  "What about Lexi?" Jude asked.

  "You're never going to sell me on that one." Josie stretched her legs. "The one thing we know about Lexi is that she was devoted to Tim. If Archer wasn't going to pick up the slack then she would have every reason to mend bridges with Colin. She wasn't going to die without knowing Tim was taken care of and her ex-husband would have been better than nothing. I think he blew her off and made it clear that he was not open to negotiation. I don't trust that guy as far as I can throw him, and if he's having fantasies now about what could have been that's just too bad."

  Jude cocked his head, "You've never heard that women can be vindictive just for the heck of it?"

  "You've never heard that most men are idiots when it comes to responsibility?"

  "That's a sweeping statement," Jude countered.

  "It's a fair one or haven't you seen the divorce statistics?" Josie waved her hand, then chuckled and put her fingers to her forehead. "Oh, my God, I can't believe I said that. I'm sorry. This is ridiculous. We could argue either side of this fence until the cows come home. Bottom line, I just don't like a guy who shows up with his hand out and he doesn't care what's put in it – money or Archer's head."

  Jude's gaze lingered on his client.

  "I don't know. I'm not getting that vibe. I think Colin is in the early stages of real grief and that's why your theory hurts him so much."

  "I don't know why this would bother him anymore than thinking Archer caused Tim's death, or that there had been a problem with the Shock & Drop that resulted in his death. No matter what happened, Tim is still dead. So what would it matter if he died before he fell?"

  Josie warmed to her subject. She scooted forward, trying again to get Jude excited about her proposition.

  "Look, Jude, I watched that tape a hundred times over and it seems to me that Tim's eyes were closed and his body was completely limp when he fell. There is every possibility he had a seizure or a blood clot, something that killed him in the second before we see him come back into the frame. A blood clot can kill you like that." Josie snapped her fingers. "Archer sensed something was wrong, reached for Tim and somehow unlatched the harness.

  "Bottom line, if Tim Wren was dead before the harness opened Archer could have yanked him off the platform and thrown Tim to the ground and legally it still wouldn't be murder."

  "And if the doctor confirms that?" Jude countered. "Then Colin is the only one suffering. There will be no one to blame and he'll be left alone with all that pain and nothing to show for it."

  "Maybe all that man has in him is anger and Tim's just an excuse to let it out," Josie said as she glared at Colin Wren. "Besides, you could argue operator error. Given the way Tim looked and acted, he should not have been let on the ride. It will still be a payday for Colin."

  Jude put his hand on Josie's shoulder as he got up wearily. There was no arguing. Josie had made up her mind about the man but Jude felt sorry for him out there alone. He leaned down and whispered in her ear.

  "Cut him some slack, Josie. It takes some people longer than others to wake up to how they feel about their kids. Few parents are monsters, but then again few of them are saints either."

  With that, Jude wandered outside. He said a few words to Colin who moved away a step. He didn't want a friend. Josie watched but only had eyes for Jude. His words had hit her where she lived and left Josie breathless. What would she have done if her mother reappeared wanting to claim her? Would she melt into her arms, drink in her apologies, believe the repentance and absolve her of her sin? Maybe she would want her mother to pay for all the hurt she caused just because there was no one else who could settle the bill.

  The hell with it.

  Her mother wasn't coming back so the question could never be answered.

  The hell with him.

  Josie shook away a twinge of sympathy she felt for Colin Wren, the prodigal father, the man who wanted to champion his son in death to make up for the sin of abandoning him in life.

  Standing up, Josie smoothed her trousers and her conscience. Tim Wren was a victim who still had something to say. With that thought, the man who could interpret the language of the dead opened the door and smiled at her.

  Doctor Chow, the independent pathologist, was ready to talk.

  CHAPTER 31

  "Will Mr. Wren be joining us?"

  Jude had come at Josie's call. Colin remained outside. He stood with his back against the wall, his hand held to his chin and his shoulders slumped. Jude made excuses.

  "This might be a little too raw for him."

  "Oh, now, I didn't find anything too gruesome. I know people always expect me to go into excruciating, gory detail, but the fact of the matter is what I do is fairly cut and dried. No pun intended, of course." Doctor Chow pushed up his glasses, wound the grin down a notch and looked out the window toward Colin. "Would you like to ask him again if he wants to come in? Pathologists don't come cheap."

  "Thanks, but he was pretty clear," Jude assured him.

  "So? Doctor?" Josie opened her hands, urging him to get on with it.

  "Yes. Well. I have completed my examination of Timothy. I must say, the embalmer did a top-notch job. Timothy was quite easy to work on thanks to the expense gone to before he was buried. That made my job so much easier." Doctor Chow readjusted his glasses again. They were square and black rimmed and made him look very young. "I will, of course, provide you with a final report but here it is in a nutshell.

  "The death certificate lists blunt force trauma as the cause of death and, truthfully, I have no reason to bicker with that. It is fairly standard in cases such as this where the cause seems quite obvious and there is no reason to perform an autopsy."

  "So, you're absolutely sure Tim wasn't dead before he fell?" Josie asked, hoping against hope that she had misunderstood.

  "No, there was nothing wrong with Timothy's heart. It was strong despite a valve problem. No evidence of a stroke. But that is not to say that he couldn't have appeared to be dead as you described to me, Ms. Bates. Timothy was definitely out of it. He had a high concentration of Phenobarbital in his blood. I'm surprised he was still standing after ingesting that much medication. His reaction time would have been slow. His body would have been heavy. It would have taken a great effort for him to forcefully break through his restraints or to catch himself should the restraint break. So, yes, basically he was a dead weight but he was, by no means, dead."

  "I found a bottle of that drug in Lexi's purse." Josie looked from the doctor to Jude. "I assumed they were hers."

  "They might have been. You'll have to as
k Timothy's physician if he would have prescribed them for the boy," Doctor Chow suggested.

  "Would there be any reason to prescribe those meds for Tim?" Jude queried.

  Doctor Chow shook his head, "Phenobarbital is prescribed for seizures but I saw no evidence that Timothy suffered in that manner. I would speculate that the prescription was for the mother. She might have suffered seizures if her cancer had affected her brain. It would not be unusual to prescribe Phenobarbital for that. The question is, why was it in Timothy's system? "

  Doctor Chow took a breath, pursed his lips as if he was about to kiss one of them and then began to speculate.

  "I suppose there are a number of scenarios that I could testify to if you chose to examine me on the matter. For instance, prescribing the medication might have been done in an effort to keep Timothy from acting out. The drug can actually be used as a substitute for heroin. With so much in his system he would appear near comatose. I am appalled to think a physician would have done such a thing, but nothing about the medical profession surprises me anymore. Now, there is another option. Phenobarbital might have been used experimentally in an attempt to control Timothy's muscle spasms. I am not up on any new literature regarding experimentation with that drug, but I certainly could research it."

  "I'm almost sure I saw Lexi's name on the bottle, though," Josie mused.

  "And that brings us to another possibility," the doctor said. "It could be that the mother shared the medication with the boy. Self-medication is not unheard of. If she was concerned with his comfort and she had found relief using the drug, she might have given it to Timothy. I would have to question the amount administered. It was excessive. However, if a layperson were giving the medication, they would have to guess at how much to give. And then that leads us to a problem. How could anyone prove how the medication got into Timothy's system now that I have proved it was there?"