Blind Conviction (Nate Shepherd Legal Thriller Series Book 3)
Page 25
“What happened next?”
“I hustled after him.”
“Did you catch him?”
She smiled. “I did. I’m pretty…I was pretty fast.”
“I see. Then what happened?”
“I called out to him and he stopped and we talked.”
“Talked?”
Abby nodded. “At first. Then we fought.”
“About what?”
“About him not telling me he was going. And who he went with.”
“What was wrong with who he went with?”
“That man has been trying to put an oil well on the Mack Farm for years. I don’t much like it.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
She shrugged. “I don’t think organic farming and oil wells mix.”
“So what happened then?”
“We both lost our tempers. He yelled at me and I yelled at him and he left.”
“Then what?”
“We were parked in the same lot and I didn’t want to be near his sorry a—um, near him so I went and sat on the top of the old stairs and I fumed and I got generally ticked that we’d ruined the vibe of the whole night and that made me even madder. And then I thought about Big Luke’s encore, he’d come out for an extra one and sang ‘I’m a Duck’s Back, Baby,’ and I realized the two of us should know better, or I should anyway, and I gave him a call.”
“What happened then?”
“He didn’t pick up. I didn’t blame him because I’d scorched him pretty good, so I just left a message.”
“Then what?”
“Then I swore a little bit and I hummed the chorus a little bit and I decided I better head out to meet the girls.”
“So what did you do?”
“I stood, and I heard a voice say, ‘Hey’ and I felt someone grab my arm. I was startled and I jerked away and then I tumbled down the stairs.”
“All the way?”
Abby nodded. “It’s pretty steep there.”
“Then what happened?”
“I think I may have blacked out for a minute because I don’t remember the last part of the fall. I just remember being on the rocks by the water. And being in a good bit of pain.”
“Where?”
“I told you, by the water.”
“No, where on your body?”
“Oh. Right. My hip. I tried to get up and I had this flash of pain and I’m pretty sure I cried out, but I’m not sure. I later learned I’d broken my pelvis and hip both.”
“What happened next?”
“I realized I couldn’t move so I called for help. I’m not sure how loud I was. I was afraid no one could hear me, but then I heard someone come down the steps. They’re metal so they have a little ring to it when someone’s on them.”
“What did you do?”
“I called out for help again.” She looked down. “I might’ve been crying too.”
“I would imagine so. What did you see next?”
“Not much. It was dark and I was dizzy and I was in pain and I couldn’t move. I saw someone get to the bottom, though, and I called out one more time.”
“Then what?”
“I saw the person climb off the pad and slip—the rocks can be slick there—as he made his way over to me.”
“Could you see him?”
“No. He was just a darker spot in the sky. And I might have been seeing double, I’m not sure.”
“Then what?”
“Then he made it to me and I was relieved and actually thanked the rat bastard—”
“—Ms. Ackerman.”
“Sorry, ma’am. And then I saw him swing and I woke up in the hospital.”
“The next day?”
“Best I remember, it was at least two, maybe three days later.”
“And what was your condition then?”
“I was hurt.”
“What was the nature of your injuries?”
“I had a broken hip. A broken pelvis. A concussion. And a broken bone in my face.”
“What caused those injuries?”
“The fall caused the hip and the pelvis and maybe a portion of the concussion.”
“And the broken bone in your face?”
“I was told I was hit with a rock. Which made sense with what I remembered.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Ackerman, but will you brush your hair back, please?”
Abby paused then pushed the hair on the left side of her face back and tucked it behind her ear. She had a small dent in the bone next to her left eye. It wasn’t huge but just enough to throw off the proportions of her face.
The jury stared. We all did.
Stritch motioned at his own eye. “Is that what caused it?”
Abby nodded. “It broke my orbital bone. It didn’t heal straight.” She shook her hair back down.
“And why were you hospitalized yesterday?”
“I haven’t been as mobile as I was. Between that and the fractures, I developed clots in my legs.”
“And was the treatment successful?”
“They gave me blood thinners. I’ll be fine.”
“Well, that's certainly good news. You have our thoughts and prayers.”
Abby gave one of those circular head nods indicating she wanted to wrap this up.
Stritch kept the concerned look on his face as he said, “Ms. Ackerman, do you know the defendant?”
“I do.”
“How?”
“I’m engaged to his brother, Hamish.”
“And how often are you at Hamish’s farm?”
“What kind of a question is that?”
Stritch seemed taken aback by that reaction. “Well, I, uhm, I mean…”
“Are you asking if I live with him?”
“No, I—”
“The answer is no, I don’t live with him and yes, we’re engaged. If you must know, I stay over at my fiancé’s house sometimes but I have my own place.”
Stritch looked mortified that he was being perceived as having asked a question he didn’t ask. He straightened his notes and said, “So since dating Hamish Mack, you've come to know Archibald Mack?”
“Yes. Very well. We share an interest in farming and animals.”
“I see. Are you close?”
Abby scowled. “I am good friends with my fiancé's brother.”
Stritch, quite clearly, beat a retreat. He sucked his gaunt cheeks in, then said, “Ms. Ackerman, have you ever seen Hamish and Archie fight?”
Abby smiled. “They’re brothers.”
“That doesn't answer my question, Ms. Ackerman.”
“Of course.”
“Have they ever come to blows?”
I stood. “Objection, Your Honor. Collateral.”
“We believe it's relevant to show the family dynamic, Your Honor.”
Judge Wesley thought. “You have a very narrow window here, Mr. Stritch.”
“Have you ever seen your fiancé Hamish and the defendant come to blows?”
Abby smiled. “That’s not how I’d describe it.”
“How would you describe it?”
“Scuffles.”
“Scuffles then. On more than one occasion?”
“I couldn’t say.”
“Sure you could, Ms. Ackerman. Have you seen Hamish and the defendant scuffle on more than one occasion?”
“There might've been two.”
“And what were these scuffles over?”
Abby looked around. “We’re a farming family, Mr. Stritch. When we have a disagreement, we don’t debate each other in our Sunday suits.”
“Was one of those scuffles over your attack?”
Abby raised her head at that. “I don’t know, Mr. Stritch. I was out cold for that one.”
Stritch nodded but couldn’t stop the smallest smile. “That's all I have, Ms. Ackerman. Thank you very much for coming in the day after your hospitalization. The State of Michigan thanks you.”
Scorn came to Abby's eyes as she said, “Well, t
he State of Michigan subpoenaed me, so I didn't really have a choice.”
I stood. “Good morning, Ms. Ackerman.”
“Good morning, Mr. Shepherd.”
“Do you need a break?”
“I'm fine. Let's get this over with.”
“You've known Archie for about four years, right?”
“That's right.”
“Ms. Ackerman, do you think Archie attacked you that night?”
Stritch leapt to his feet and said, “Objection” just as Abby Ackerman said, “No.”
“Move to strike, Your Honor,” said Stritch.
“Sustained,” said Judge Wesley. “The jury will disregard that last answer.”
But, of course, they'd heard it.
“Ms. Ackerman, let's talk about what you saw and what you didn’t see that night. You did not see the person who grabbed you at all, did you?”
“I didn’t.”
“And you saw a person come down the stairs but could not see his face, right?”
“That’s right. It was too dark.”
“So the jury understands, you are not saying it was Archie who grabbed you, are you?”
“I am not.”
“And you’re not saying that it was Archie who came down the stairs?”
“I am not.”
“And you’re not saying that it was Archie who hit you with the rock?”
“Definitely not.”
“You don’t know who it was, do you?”
“I have no idea who that miserable son of a bitch was.” She turned. “I’m sorry, Judge.”
“Understandable, Ms. Ackerman. But please don’t repeat it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s because you never saw this…person’s face, true?”
“That’s true.”
“You did hear him speak though, right?”
“More of a mutter, but yes, I did.”
“Do you remember what he said?”
“I do.”
“What?”
“He said, ‘It’ll have more gas than the Albion Skip-N-Go.’”
“Okay, Ms. Ackerman, two things about what he said.”
“Okay.”
“First, you know what Archie Mack’s voice sounds like, correct?”
“I do.”
“Was it Archie Mack’s voice that you heard?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Second, is it possible that the voice said, ‘It’ll have more gas than the Albion-Scipio?’”
Abby scowled. “Didn't we just say the same thing?”
“We did not. You said ‘Skip-N-Go,’ right?”
“Right.
“I'm saying ‘Scipio.’ S-C-I-P-I-O.”
“I'm sorry, Mr. Shepherd, I'm not really hearing the difference.”
“So the voice could have said, ‘Albion-Scipio?’”
“Since it sounds exactly the same to me, yes.”
“So the jury knows, this is not a new recollection, is it?”
“It is not.”
“You reported what you heard to Sheriff Dushane, didn't you?”
“I did.”
“Shortly after you woke up?”
“Yes.”
“Did he ever ask you any follow-up questions about this? About what you heard?”
“No.”
“Did anyone else?”
“Just you.”
“Now, Ms. Ackerman, you and Hamish fought that night at the back of the Quarry, didn’t you?”
“We did.”
“Hamish has testified that the two of you fought about going to the concert.”
“That’s what I hear.”
“That’s not true, is it?”
Abby thought. “It’s mostly true.”
“How would you describe it?”
“We fought about who he went to the concert with.”
“That would be Will Wellington?”
“Yes.”
“What was wrong with Hamish going to a concert with Mr. Wellington?”
“It wasn’t so much going as what it implied.”
“What did it imply?”
“That Hamish was thinking about what Wellington was selling.”
“Which was what?”
“Wellington puts oil wells on farms. And I don’t agree with that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t go with farming. I don’t think so anyways.”
“And Hamish does?”
Abby thought again. “I wanted to do what I could to keep him from thinking that way.”
“And that’s what you fought about? Putting a well on the farm?”
“The possibility of putting a well on a farm.”
“Finally, Ms. Ackerman, you said that you had seen Hamish and Archie scuffle on occasion.”
“I have.”
“Is argue a better word?”
She thought. “Probably.”
“It was usually about the farm?”
“That I saw, it was always about the farm.”
“They disagreed about what to do?”
Abby shrugged. “They have different interests. Hamish favors traditional crops and maximizing yield per acre. Archie has just as much interest in animal husbandry as farming.”
“You grew up on a farm, didn't you?”
“I did.”
“Did you have an opinion?”
“Sure. But it's not my farm, so it matters less.”
“What do you like?”
“I'm more inclined toward organic farming, the way Mr. and Mrs. Mack are.”
“From your perspective, Ms. Ackerman, do you have a good relationship with Archie Mack?”
“I do. Well, until this trial anyway. Since then, Hamish and Archie couldn’t go to family gatherings together anymore.”
“Did you and Archie ever argue?”
“No.”
“Do you know of any reason why my client would want to harm you?”
“No.”
“Do you disagree with the prosecutor's decision to charge Archie?”
Stritch stood. “Objection.”
“I didn't ask if it was right or wrong, Your Honor. I asked if she agreed with it.”
Judge Wesley thought. “Overruled.”
“Do you disagree with the prosecutor's decision to charge Archie, Ms. Ackerman?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Abby’s eyes welled up but it’s not fair to say she broke down. Instead, I’d say she broke out with anger and frustration and pain all at once as lifted her chin, tossed her hair back and said, “Because it keeps them from finding the person who did this to me.”
“That's all the questions I have for you. Thanks.”
Abby nodded at me as Stritch stood back up.
“Ms. Ackerman, you’ve testified twice now that you didn’t see the person who grabbed you, right?”
“That's right.”
“So you can’t say it wasn’t Archie that grabbed you?”
“Other than the fact he wouldn’t do it, I guess not.”
“And you’ve testified twice that you didn’t see who the person was who struck you, right?”
“Right.”
“So you can’t say that it wasn’t Archie who struck you, can you?”
Abby stared. “That right there is why people don’t like lawyers.”
“Ms. Ackerman!” said Judge Wesley.
“I’m sorry, Your Honor. I suppose that what you say is true, Mr. Stritch.”
Stritch nodded. “Do you remember picking out what you were going to wear the night of the concert?”
“More or less.”
“Did you wear clean clothes that night?”
Abby blinked. “Excuse me?
“Forgive me, but were the clothes you wore to the concert that night clean? In other words, was it the first time you had worn them since they were washed?”
She looked at Judge Wesley who gestured to go ahead.
“Yes.
I mean, everything except the boots, I suppose.”
“And you were not at the Mack farm earlier that day?”
“I was not.”
“And did getting ready for the concert include showering?”
“Mr. Stritch, you're starting to offend me.”
“I'm very sorry, Ms. Ackerman, but I need to ask, did you shower before going to the concert?”
“I did.”
“And then put on clean clothes?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you, Ms. Ackerman, that's all I have.”
I was pretty sure I knew where Stritch was going with that last bizarre line of questioning so, unfortunately, I was going to have to look just as nosy and absurd to the jury.
I stood. “Ms. Ackerman, do you have a clothes hamper for your worn or dirty clothes?”
Abby glared at me. “Of course.”
“Which is it?”
“I have a hamper.”
“Does it have a lid?”
“Not usually.”
“Where do you keep it?”
“Excuse me?”
“Where do you keep the hamper? Is it in your bathroom? In your bedroom?”
“It's in my closet.”
“I see. That's all I have Ms. Ackerman. Thank you.”
Neither Stritch nor I had any more questions, so Judge Wesley dismissed Abby from the stand. I looked over at Stritch. He gave me a half smile and nodded. That told me I had guessed right about his last set of questions.
I was concerned.
Judge Wesley had us break for lunch and, the minute the jury left, Hamish shot to the front of the courtroom to help Abby. Mr. and Mrs. Mack went over to her too and I could hear them asking her how she was doing and what kind of medication she had to take and how they could help. Archie stood next me, watching as his family gathered around her. He was rigid and I could feel the isolation washing over him. Stritch went over to the group, held out his arms and whispered, and corralled them out the door.
It was quiet when they were gone. As Olivia came over, Danny said, “What was that last bit at the end?” said Danny. “About the clothes?”
“I think Stritch is about to answer my challenge for physical evidence,” I said.
“How?” said Olivia.
“I think we’re going to hear about corn next.”
Suddenly, Archie wobbled and sat.
Danny reached for him and said, “Archie?”
He slumped forward, head in his hands.
“Archie?” I said.
His shoulders shook as I put a hand on his back and bent closer.
“Archie, what is it?”