Greed and a Mistress Page 5

  Livingston again objected, “Calls for a conclusion, Your Honor.”

  “It calls for a guess,” Davis shot back.

  “Sustained. Move on, Mr. Davis.”

  “Mrs. Bridges, did Mr. Lockhart die a long time ago?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “Five years, ten perhaps?”

  Instead of watching the witness, Jackie kept her eye on Livingston. He started to rise up and it looked like he was going to object again, but thought better of it and sat back down.

  “Ten, I guess,” Mrs. Bridges answered.

  “Do you happen to know how Mr. Lockhart died?”

  “He had cancer something awful. He died in the hospital, I believe.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Bridges. I have nothing further.”

  The judge waited to see if the defense attorney had any more questions, and when he didn’t stand back up, the judge said, “The witness is excused.”

  It was almost painful watching Mrs. Bridges stand up, even with the Bailiff’s help. He handed the cane to her, but just in case, he wrapped her other hand around his arm and walked her back down the aisle.

  “That was nice of the bailiff,” said Michael. “I never want to get that old, if it’s all the same to you.”

  “Don’t worry,” Carl said, “we talked it over and we intend to push you off a cliff long before that.”

  Michael gave his coworker and friend a revolted look. “That’s comforting.”

  Surrounded by people who had no idea why, Jackie covered her mouth to hide her smile.

  The judge consulted his watch and then said, “You may call your next witness, Mr. Davis.”

  “The People call Officer Cole Wynham to the stand.”

  The bailiff opened the back door, called for the officer and then waited.

  “Here’s something about what we already suspected” Michael said. “An article online confirms that Mrs. Lockhart’s children are contesting the will. Looks like she left most of her estate to a museum, which explains why there are guards around the victim’s house.”

  “Sure would be nice to know who hired Barrett,” Carl said. “I’m betting it’s one of the kids, especially now that they’re contesting the will. Hey, Jackie, mind if we do a little extra snooping?”

  Jackie looked at the camera in the front of the courtroom, slowly turned her head to one side and then to the other, as if she was trying to pop her neck.

  “That’s a no, I don’t mind,” Michael decided. “Good, that’ll give us something to do while you’re off lounging around in the courtroom.”

  A police officer in full uniform entered the courtroom, just as he no doubt had countless times before. He appeared confident, held up his right hand, promised to tell the truth, and then sat in the witness box.

  Assistant District Attorney Davis quickly got started in the usual way of asking for his full name and occupation. Then he asked, “Officer Wynham, how long have you been a member of the Portland Police Bureau?”

  “Eight years.”

  “Does your position on the police force include responding to 911 calls?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Did you receive a dispatch for a welfare check at the home of Mrs. Amelia Lockhart during the early morning hours of Friday June 5, 2012?”

  “I did.”

  “About what time was that?”

  “Around three-thirty a.m.”

  “And did you respond?” Davis asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I drove to the address and turned my spotlight on the house.”

  “Did you see anyone outside of Mrs. Lockhart’s house?”

  The officer shook his head. “No, sir.”

  “Did you look all the way around the house, even in the alley?”

  “Yes, sir. We try not to wake the neighbors, but I wanted to make sure Mrs. Lockhart was okay.”

  “At some point, did you enter Mrs. Lockhart’s house?”

  “No, sir.”

  “What did you do next?”

  “I asked for Mrs. Lockhart’s phone number from dispatch and called her.”

  “Did she answer?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Did she appear to be upset or harmed?”

  “No, sir, she appeared sleepy. I asked her to come downstairs and make certain the door was locked.”

  “What did you do then?”

  “I stood outside her front door. The lights came on downstairs, and then Mrs. Lockhart came to the door and turned her outside light on. I made certain she was okay, and waited until I could hear her lock the front door after she closed it. Then I went back to the police cruiser.”

  “Did you wait until after all the lights inside the house went out again?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Did you do anything else that night concerning that specific 911 call?”

  “Yes, sir, I turned off my headlights and drove around the house again, and then checked the neighborhood for anything suspicious.”

  “And did you see anything?”

  Officer Wynham again shook his head. “No, sir, everything looked normal.”

  “When you got back to the station, did you file a report?”

  “I did.”

  Davis walked to the evidence table and picked up a piece of paper. “People’s exhibit A, Your Honor. Permission to approach the witness?”

  “Granted.”

  Davis handed the paper to the witness. “Officer Wynham, is this the report you filed.”

  Cole Wynham looked it over, handed it back, and then said, “It is.”

  Davis handed the report to the Court Clerk, and went back to the lectern to consult his notes.

  Judge Blackwell gave him a moment and then asked, “Any more questions, Councilor?”

  “No, Your Honor.” Davis returned to his table just as the defense attorney got to his feet.

  CHAPTER 3

  “CROSS, MR. LIVINGSTON?” Judge Blackwell asked.

  “Yes, Your Honor. Officer Wynham, have you ever seen the defendant, Mark Barrett, do anything at all suspicious in that neighborhood?”

  “No sir.”

  “Have you seen him acting suspicious in any neighborhood?”

  “I have not.”

  “Isn’t it true you have never seen the defendant before today?”

  “I’ve seen his picture in the paper, but no, I have never seen him in person.”

  “So you’ve never arrested him for any reason, is that correct?”

  “Objection, Your Honor,” said the DA. “The witness just said he has never seen Mr. Barrett, so how could he have arrested him?”

  “Sustained.”

  Livingston looked at the jury and then at the judge. “I have no further questions.”

  “Mr. Davis,” the judge asked. “Redirect?”

  “No, Your Honor.”

  Judge Blackwell looked at his watch just as he would after each witness finished testifying during the course of the trial. “Gentlemen, let’s break for lunch before we call the next witness. Court will reconvene at one o’clock. Bailiff, you may remove the jury.” He waited until they were gone, and then banged his gavel, which signaled the bailiff to shout, “All rise.”

  HOLLY DIDN’T GET UP, so Jackie stayed in her seat too as the jury walked out. The defendant was removed, and then the attorneys left, followed by the clerk and the court recorder. Several of the spectators seemed to be in a big hurry to get out the back door, and Jackie wasn’t eager to fight the crowd either. Even after the defendant’s parents left, Holly hadn’t made a move. “Mrs. Barrett, aren’t you hungry?”

  “Please, call me Holly.”

  “Only if you promise to call me Jackie.”

  Holly smiled. “Jackie...I have always liked that name. I wanted to name our oldest daughter Jackie, but Mark made all the decisions. He said a wife was to obey her husband.” Holly took a forgotten breath and let it out. “I fell for that old line easily enough, but
I know better now. A wife only has to obey her husband if he does good, and not evil.”

  “You have become very wise. Where do you suggest we eat?”

  “I saw a little hotdog stand when I walked here from the hotel this morning, but it is not going to be easy getting out of the courthouse without running into reporters.”

  “I believe this place has a back door and a hotdog sounds good to me.”

  “We could try it, I’m hungry. Do reporters eat hotdogs?”

  “I doubt it, they have expense accounts.”

  “They probably do.” Holly finally got up, followed Jackie out of the courtroom, around the corner, and then caught up as they started down a long hallway. “You’ve been here before?”

  “A few times.”

  “How come? Did someone you know commit a crime?”

  “Not yet. I was here a few days ago hoping to find someone.”

  “Any luck?”

  Jackie pushed on the metal crossbar, opened the back door a little and peeked out. “The coast looks clear to me.”

  The parking lot was not as clear as Jackie hoped, and as they walked down the steps to the sidewalk, a camera inside a van repeatedly took pictures. She caught just a glimmer of a flash, stopped, and leaned down as if she felt something on her leg. With her other hand, she positioned the medallion so Michael and Carl could get a description of the vehicle and a picture of the license plate number.

  “Trouble?” Carl asked.

  “I saw a flash,” said Michael. “Probably just a reporter, but we’ll check it out.”

  “Cameras, cameras, everywhere cameras,” Carl muttered. “It’s getting harder and harder to be incognito these days.”

  As soon as Jackie started walking again, Holly said, “This way.” She pointed left and half a block later, opened a door in a row of shops. Holly let Jackie go in first.

  “Age before beauty?” Jackie asked.

  Holly giggled. “I haven’t heard that expression in ages.”

  “Will you let me buy you lunch?” Jackie asked as she got in line behind several other people. Most didn’t pay any attention to them, but there were a few that gawked at Holly in the crowded room that smelled of hotdogs and french-fries. Jackie glared at two women and made them look away.

  “Really? You’re buying lunch?” Holly asked.

  “I assure you, I can afford it.”

  “Okay, but I probably can’t return the favor, especially if the trial lasts more than two weeks.”

  “I understand. I don’t have any friends here in Portland, and it’s nice to have someone to eat lunch with.”

  “Did you hear that Carl? Apparently, we are not her friends.”

  “Have you forgotten? We are her employees. Friend status comes later.”

  “How much later? We’ve only worked for her for what? Thirty years?”

  “I had a couple of friends here once,” Holly admitted, “but they shied away after Mark got arrested.”

  “Well, then, I guess we’re stuck with each other.” Jackie ordered hotdogs and soft drinks, and then followed Holly to the condiment table. As soon as they were finished doctoring their hotdogs, she said, “Let’s eat in that little park beside the courthouse?”

  “Why not?” When they returned to the parking lot, the van was gone and Jackie was relieved.

  The little park that apparently few knew existed was almost deserted. Thankfully, the young couple sitting on one bench seemed far more interested in each other than in them. Jackie chose a bench several yards away, sat down, and took a bite of her hotdog. The way that Holly hungrily started to eat, she wondered if the poor girl had any money at all.

  “One thing I’ll say about Portland,” Holly said after she swallowed and took a sip of her soda, “is that it has the most beautiful scenery in the world. Salt Lake has parks, but not like these.” She peeled the wrapping down and took another bite of her hotdog.

  “I agree; it is very beautiful here.”

  “I think it’s awesome that you own your own business. What kind of company do you own?”

  “The kind with slave labor,” Michael muttered.

  “Come to think of it, you look abused,” Carl shot back.

  Jackie nibbled at her hotdog and let her new friend eat more before she answered. “I have a confession to make.”

  Holly suspiciously eyed Jackie. “Uh oh, here it comes.”

  Jackie laughed. “It’s not what you think.”

  “What is it then?”

  “Well, I own a detective agency.”

  “I see.”

  “No, you don’t see. We look for missing people, mostly children who simply vanished. Sometimes, we are hired right after the disappearance and sometimes not until years later. Our latest case is what brought me to Portland.”

  “Is that your big confession? You look for missing people?”

  “No, the confession is that I made your acquaintance intentionally, hoping I could sit with you in the front of the courtroom.” Jackie watched, but the expression on Holly’s face didn’t display annoyance. If anything, she looked even sadder than she had that morning.

  “I wish I were missing.”

  “I bet you do.”

  “Is Mark a missing child, because if he is, it would be better not to tell his real parents?”

  “No, Mark is not the subject of our search.”

  “Is it someone in the courtroom then?” Holly asked.

  “Maybe, we’re not sure yet.”

  “Well, I know it’s not me. I look just like my mother.”

  “No, it’s not you either. You’re not mad at me for deceiving you?”

  “I would be, but I’ve done worse...a lot worse. People who live in glass houses, and all that, you know. I’m just relieved you’re not a reporter.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad I haven’t ruined our friendship. Someone in that brown van in the parking lot took pictures of you earlier.”

  “I know, I’ve seen that van before. Half of the pictures on line of me are very unkind, as though they want to cast suspicion on me. I can’t tell you how furious I am at Mark for putting me through all this. You know what bothers me more than the reporters?”

  “What?”

  “That I slept in the bed of murderer. I didn’t know that at the time, but I get chills just thinking about it now.”

  Jackie glanced up at the clear blue sky. “I sure would like to know who hired him.” She waited while Holly took another bite of her lunch.

  “So would I.”

  “He didn’t tell you?”

  “Nope, but I can tell you this, Mark is scared to death of him.”

  “How do you know it is a man?”

  “It could be a woman, I suppose. If a woman hired him to kill that precious old woman, she wouldn’t hesitate to hire someone to kill Mark.”

  “That’s what I think too. Do you know if the authorities offered your husband a deal, if he turned state’s evidence?”

  “I wouldn’t know, but I’ve read men can even get killed in prison. If someone wants you dead, especially if they have money, you’re dead.”

  Jackie put the rest of her hotdog in her sack. “I’ve heard that too. You didn’t visit Mark in jail?”

  “Once. I went to ask him how I was supposed to pay the mortgage on the house.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said he was sorry, but sorry doesn’t pay the bills. Three months after that, the mortgage company said I had to leave, so Mom drove up. We packed everything in a rental truck and took the girls to Salt Lake. I thought I had to get permission from the courts, but they said I didn’t, so I left. I couldn’t wait to leave Portland.” She took another bite of her hotdog and stared at the ground.

  “Holly, if my questions upset you, I won’t ask any more.”

  “You don’t upset me, Mark does. I loved him, but before this happened, I never realized how selfish he is. The first few days he called me collect, if you can believe it. The phone company wanted
fifteen dollars for a three-minute call.” Holly’s voice began to rise. “Was I supposed to pay for that?”

  “What did you do?”

  “I got the house phone disconnected, bought a cheap cellphone and refused to give anyone the number. I only needed the cellphone so I could call 911 if the girls got hurt.”

  “Good move. The papers said Mark had a cellphone.”

  “He did, but I only saw it once. After he was arrested, I looked everywhere, but I couldn’t find it. The cops didn’t find it either.”

  “What did Mark tell you to do about the house payment?”

  “He begged me to borrow the money to pay it. He said he needed the house to pay for his fancy lawyer, but that lawyer said there wasn’t enough equity even to begin to defend Mark in a murder trial. So, I lost the house and he got a public defender. My husband did me one favor, though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Well, he’s such a big shot he picked out the house and put everything in his name. He said it was so I wouldn’t have to worry about a thing, but I think he thought if I ever left him, the house would be his.”

  “It probably would have been community property.”

  “Right, only he’s not as smart as he thinks he is. Since everything was in his name, I was able just to walk away. Mom doesn’t think it will ever show up on my credit report and so far, it hasn’t.”

  “Not true. Unless Oregon law is different, the bills are community property too,” said Carl. When someone knocked, he went to the door, accepted the sandwiches he ordered earlier and came back.

  “Hey, maybe we could use a little of our emergency fund to help her out,” Michael suggested. “That way, it truly won’t ever show up on Holly’s credit report.”

  “Pay off a house?” Carl asked, as he unwrapped his BLT sandwich.

  “Why not? Just take it out of petty cash. Better yet, take it out of that over-stuffed suitcase you don’t think I know about.”

  Carl ignored the way Michael was staring at him and Jackie ignored them both. “I’m glad you have parents who can help you.”

  “So am I. His parents won’t even speak to me. Like I said, they think this is my fault. Mark told them he needed the money because I demanded he buy expensive things for me.”

  “Did you?”