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Greed and a Mistress Page 17


  “No, that is not correct. Lucas made out the checks and paid all the bills. It was something he was still able to do, you see, but he didn’t like taking money from Mother. It upset him a lot, so I made sure when I called her, it wasn’t on our phone bill.”

  “I see. Did you ever see bruises on your sister?”

  “Once.”

  “When was that?”

  “A couple of years ago. I don’t remember when.”

  “Did Melissa tell you what happened?”

  “No, I think she was afraid my brothers would be upset if they knew he was hurting her.”

  “Melissa told you her husband was hurting her?” Livingston asked.

  “No, I just guessed and she didn’t deny it.”

  “So to your knowledge, she got money from her mother to keep from getting knocked around?”

  “That’s right. I never did like her husband, but she loves him.”

  “Do you have a key to your mother’s house?”

  “No, and I can explain that. Noises frightened mother, especially the opening and closing of doors when she wasn’t expecting it. I guess when you get old, you get that way.”

  “So you had to ring the bell when you went to see her?”

  “You don’t need to put it like that. I didn’t mind ringing the bell. The only time that frightened, her, was when she was standing right beside the door.”

  Livingston asked, “Before the trial, had you ever seen that portrait of your mother before?”

  “No. We always had tea in the kitchen when I was there, not in the library.”

  “Did you send cards, Christmas gifts, take your children to see her, or attend her funeral?”

  Suddenly, Kaydence buried her face in her hands and cried out. “I’m sorry, Mother.”

  Livingston waited, but Kaydence didn’t stop crying. “Perhaps a glass of water, Your Honor.”

  The judge nodded. “You may approach the witness, Mr. Livingston.”

  The defense attorney handed Kaydence a glass of water, and then waited while she took a sip. “Mrs. Bristow, what are you sorry for?”

  “I treated her so badly. I was so angry that I didn’t see how I had neglected mother.”

  “Angry about what?”

  “Everything. I only had half a husband, and all the responsibility of raising eight children. I didn’t mean to feel sorry for myself, but...”

  “Are you certain that is all you are sorry for?”

  Kaydence abruptly stopped crying and glared at the attorney. “It was her own fault – she wouldn’t tell us the truth.”

  “What truth was that?”

  She gritted her teeth. “You know what truth.”

  “Mrs. Bristow, please tell the jury what truth your mother refused to tell you.”

  For a long moment, Kaydence stared into Slone’s eyes. “Ask Slone.”

  Livingston moved to the side of the lectern. “Unfortunately, I am asking you.”

  “It is none of your business, Mr. Livingston.”

  Livingston decided to let it slide for the moment. “I have no further questions at this time, Your Honor. Permission to recall this witness later?”

  “Permission granted. Cross, Mr. Davis?”

  Kaydence looked like she thought she’d won, but that was before Davis stood up. “Yes, Your Honor. Mrs. Bristow, I have just a few short questions.”

  “Do you know the defendant, Mark Barrett?”

  “No.”

  “Have you ever seen him?”

  “No.”

  “Have you ever talked to him in person or on the phone?”

  “No.”

  “Did you pay him ten thousand dollars to kill your mother?”

  “Absolutely not!”

  “I have no further questions.”

  The judge looked at the defense attorney. “Redirect, Mr. Livingston?”

  “No, Your Honor.”

  “The witness may step down. The court shall be in recess for fifteen minutes.” Judge Blackwell tapped his gavel, stood up, and left the courtroom.

  “Norma said Kaydence was always mad about something. Too bad she won’t tell us what,” said Michael.

  CHAPTER 8

  JACKIE WAS RELIEVED and everyone else seemed to be too. Both Holly and Jackie were learning to ignore Mark’s parents. They got in line behind the other observers and walked out the courtroom door. The reporters seemed more interested in calling their stories in, rather than in trying to get Holly to say something, which was also a relief.

  However, Michael was still frowning. “Jackie, I don’t want to be an attorney when I grow up. It’s too tedious.”

  “That was intense,” said Holly as she walked around the corner beside Jackie. “For a minute there, I thought Kaydence was going to confess. It’s possible, I suppose, but it is hard to imagine any woman would hire someone to kill her own mother.”

  “I agree,” said Jackie. She headed for a water fountain, pressed the button, drank, and then held it down for Holly. This time, when they walked around the corner to the hallway bench, three people were already sitting there.

  “I need to stand up anyway,” Jackie said, as they walked to the end of the hall. “What do you think happened to the rest of the jewelry?”

  “Mark probably sent it to his mother. She would never turn him in though, not in a million years.” Holly searched in her purse for a package of mints and offered one to Jackie. When her friend declined, Holly put one in her mouth. “Do you know if I have to let Mark’s parents see the girls?”

  “I don’t think Grandparents have any automatic legal rights, but you should consider how your daughters will feel when they get old enough to know they have another set of grandparents. If you wait too long, they may resent you for it.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “In my business, I’ve seen a lot of messed up families. Mothers and fathers get mad, take the children and simply disappear. Being impulsive can destroy the very lives they think they are protecting. However, in your case, you can keep them from seeing the girls without you being there; at least until they are old enough not to believe you were responsible for what happened.”

  “Trying to turn them against me is just the sort of thing they would do, too. In a way, I feel sorry for Mark’s mother. Maybe she knows he did it and she’s just putting up a front for the sake of the jury.”

  “Then again, maybe not,” said Michael.

  THE STATE’S CASE HAD gone by quickly, and it looked like the defense wasn’t wasting any time either. It was no wonder. The state didn’t seem to have very much direct evidence, and so far, Mark’s defense has to do with blaming someone else. Holly still ignored her husband when he was brought back in the courtroom, and why not, the jury would never see it. When court was called to order and the jury was seated again, the man with thick eyeglasses removed them and rubbed his eyes. Either he had allergies, or he wasn’t sleeping well. He pulled an eyeglass cleaning cloth out of his shirt pocket and proceeded to rub his glasses clean before he put them back on.

  “I figure Melissa will testify next,” said Michael after Holly and Jackie returned to the courtroom. “Her husband split not long after the murder. I’m trying to find out what happened to him now.”

  “Jackie,” said Carl. “Both our previous clients are still alive and still looking for their daughters. One is Harry Marshall. He is the British land developer and we spent six months trying to find his daughter back in 1996. His daughter was four, and one day his wife ran off with her while he was at work. The other one is Dr. Charles Williams, the brain surgeon. Stranger abduction was the theory at the time. I’ll have everything ready when you come home tonight.”

  Jackie slightly nodded. Once more, she watched the court reporter come back and take her place at the computer she used to take rapid notes during the trial. She remembered both cases well, and privately hoped that she was Harry Marshall’s abducted daughter...alive and looking very well.

  “THE DEFEN
SE CALLS MELISSA Lockhart Dunlap.” The slender, pretty woman stood up, made her way past her brothers, entered through the gate, and she was sworn in. She resembled her mother too, although not as much as Slone. Melissa sat up straight and folded her hands in her lap.

  “State your full name and occupation for the record,” said Livingston.

  “I am Melissa Lockhart Dunlap and I work as an assistant in a dental office.”

  “You are the youngest of Mr. and Mrs. Lockhart’s children, is that correct?”

  “It is.”

  “How old are you?”

  “I am thirty-two.”

  “And do you have any children?”

  “No, my husband didn’t want children.”

  “You are married to Griffin Dunlap, is that correct?”

  “Yes, unfortunately.”

  “Did you go to your mother’s house regularly to ask for money?”

  “Yes.”

  “How much did she usually give you?”

  “Ten thousand.”

  “Is it true your husband threatened to harm you if you did not ask your mother for money?”

  “Yes, it is true. He went through money like water and we never had enough.”

  “Is it also true your husband left you?”

  Melissa bowed her head. “Yes.”

  “Was that because your mother cut the four of you out of her will?”

  “Probably. He didn’t say, he just left. He sometimes talked about how rich we would be after she died.”

  “Do you have any reason to suspect your husband killed your mother instead of the defendant, Mr. Barrett?”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “Do you know where he was that night?”

  “Unfortunately, he was at home with me.”

  “All night?”

  “Yes, I wasn’t feeling well, so I didn’t get much sleep that night. He was there the whole night yelling at me for keeping him awake.” Livingston paused to check his notes.

  “Well, that lets him out,” said Michael.

  “Yes, but with him gone, she doesn’t have an alibi,” Carl said.

  “Jackie, Griffin Dunlap is a real loser from way back. He has four illegitimate children he doesn’t support, and didn’t bother to marry any of the mothers. I’ll try to find him. Sounds like he’s a more likely suspect than Slone, and I had money on Slone. Wouldn’t it be something if he paid ten thousand to bump the old lady off, and then found out his wife was only going to inherit ten thousand? Talk about irony.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Dunlap,” said Livingston. “By the way, do you have a key to your mother’s house?”

  “No.”

  “Did you know your brother had a huge bank account?”

  “No.”

  “Where were you the night your mother died?”

  “Asked and answered,” said Davis.

  “Sustained.”

  “Mrs. Dunlap, did you love your mother?”

  “Not that much.”

  “At least she’s honest about that,” Michael said.

  “Why not?” Livingston asked.

  “She didn’t love us. If she had, she would have given us our inheritance when our so-called father died. She could afford it.”

  “Why do you think she didn’t?”

  “She said we were ungrateful and didn’t deserve it.”

  “Objection, hearsay.”

  “Sustained,” said the judge. “The jury will disregard what Mrs. Lockhart reportedly said.”

  “Mrs. Dunlap, are you familiar with the Thomas Roosevelt Museum?”

  “I am. Mother used to take us there when we were children.”

  “Did you like going there as a child?”

  “I did. My parents traveled the world buying artifacts, most of which Mother donated to the museum after Father died.”

  “Are you aware of how much money your mother left to the Museum?”

  “I heard it was over ten million dollars. I mean, why do they need it? Everything is donated.”

  “Did you see a copy of her will before she died?”

  “No.”

  “Are you certain you didn’t find a copy in a drawer in your mother’s office?”

  “Of course, I’m certain. I never snooped in her things. She would have had a fit if I did, especially in her precious office.”

  “Did you think you would inherit a large part of your mother’s wealth when she died?”

  “I was under that impression. Yes, I did.”

  “What made you think that?”

  “I don’t know. We all expected her to leave it to us.”

  “You were surprised to learn she left most of it to the museum?”

  “I sure was. We don’t think the one Miss Childers has is the real will, and the museum won’t let us in to look for another one. That’s why we’re contesting it.”

  “That makes sense,” said Michael.

  “Just so I understand; all four of you expected to inherit?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you remember the day Slone had an argument with your father?”

  “Objection, relevance, Your Honor.”

  Livingston frowned. “I’ll withdraw the question.”

  “You testified that you do not have a key to your mother’s house, is that correct?”

  “Yes. I asked for one, but she wouldn’t give it to me. She said I should just call and she would let me in.”

  “Why did you want one?”

  “So I could hide there if things got too bad at home.”

  “Did you ever have to hide there?”

  “No, I always went to Kaydence’s house. My husband wouldn’t follow me there. He didn’t want to deal with Slone, and he was afraid Kaydence would call him.”

  “Do you know why your mother wouldn’t give you a key?”

  “She didn’t want my brothers to have one.”

  “I see.” Again, Livingston consulted his notes.

  “Okay, now I think Melissa hired Mark,” said Michael. “She called her mother that night, said she needed a place to stay, and that’s why the door was unlocked. Why am I the only one who thinks of these things? I changed my mind, Jackie, I DO want to be a lawyer. These guys don’t ask the right questions. They don’t object often enough either. I’m beginning to think both sides are trying to find out who hired...no, that’s not ethical, is it? I better look that up.”

  “Your witness, Mr. Davis.”

  “Mrs. Dunlap,” Davis began, “did your husband ever threaten to harm your mother?”

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  “Do you know where your husband is?”

  “No, and I don’t care. I am much happier without him.”

  At the lectern, Davis folded his arms. “Do you know the defendant, Mark Barrett?”

  “No.”

  “Have you ever seen him or talked to him on the phone?”

  “No.”

  “Did you pay him ten thousand dollars to kill your mother?”

  “Certainly not.”

  “Do you own a house?”

  “No, we sold it the month before Mother died.”

  “Didn’t you reinvest in a new house?”

  Melissa sighed. “I thought we were going to, but the bank account was wiped out the day my husband took off. I live in a cheap little apartment now.”

  “I see.”

  On redirect, Livingston raised his voice. “Mrs. Dunlap, isn’t it true you know who killed your mother, and it is someone other than the defendant?”

  “I don’t have any idea who killed her. I wasn’t there.”

  “I have no more questions,” said Livingston.

  As soon as Melissa stepped out of the witness box, Kaydence stood up. Yet, when both sisters started to leave the courtroom, Slone took hold of Melissa’s arm. In response, Melissa and Kaydence sat back down.

  “What do you suppose that was all about?” Michael wondered aloud.

  “I think I know,” said Carl. “Slone
reminded them that Mark Barrett might still take the stand, and they all better be there when he did... just in case he says one of them hired him.”

  “That makes sense,” Michael agreed. “I bet you’re right.”

  “IF IT PLEASES THE COURT, the Defense would like to call Norma Childers back to the stand.”

  “Yippee,” said Michael. “Can we adopt Norma? Pretty please?”

  Just as stern and determined as she had been both times before, Norma climbed into the witness box and put her purse on the floor beside her.

  Half the jury smiled, but Judge Blackwell didn’t look all that pleased to see her. “Miss Childers, do you understand that you are still under oath?”

  She sweetly smiled at him. “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “You may proceed, Counselor.”

  “Thank you. Now, Miss Childers, would I be correct if I said there was a certain amount of animosity between Mrs. Lockhart and her four children?”

  “No, sir, it wasn’t animosity, they hated her.”

  “I see. Do you happen to know why they hated her?”

  “Well, it’s a little complicated, but...”

  Davis quickly got to his feet. “Your Honor, the question calls for speculation.”

  “Sustained.”

  “I will rephrase,” said Livingston. “Did you ever witness an argument between Mr. Lockhart and his children?”

  “I certainly did. It was the worst fight I’ve ever seen.”

  “Tell us what happened.”

  “Objection.”

  “Overruled.”

  “Thank you,” Norma said as she nodded to the judge. “Well, Slone got real sick and the doctor wanted a family history concerning certain inherited illnesses, but Mr. Lockhart, Slone’s father, didn’t know. Come to find out, Mr. Lockhart didn’t know, because he was not Slone’s father. When Slone got better, he found a notation to that effect on his chart. After he got out of the hospital, the first thing he did was come to the house. Right along after him came the other three. Slone was furious and demanded to know who his real father was. Then the other three piled on like flies on a carcass.”

  “What did Mr. Lockhart do?”

  “What could he do? The poor man had to admit he didn’t father any of them. That’s when those precious, loveable, understanding children of theirs accused Mrs. Lockhart of all sorts of horrible things. Mr. Lockhart wasn’t about to let anyone talk to his wife that way. He ordered them out of the house and cut them out of his will. He left every cent he had to his devoted wife, Amelia.”