“I’m not sure.”
“She hugs me sometimes,” Michelle said.
Jason turned to Michelle. “You’re her aunt. I don’t think she’s ever hugged me.”
Jason then went on to detail the second time he was alone with Becky in the basement, the next day. It was forty minutes or so, after he and Michelle had come back from Maguire’s Irish Pub on Christmas night. They’d played with her dolls and her new dollhouse, and they’d played Ice Cream Shop again.
“How much did you have to drink at Maguire’s?” Norman asked.
“I had one beer,” Jason replied, his tone slightly annoyed.
“Any drugs?”
“No.” Jason glared at Norman.
Michelle reached over and squeezed Jason’s hand. “He’s just trying to help.”
Jason clenched his jaw but didn’t respond.
Norman said, “If I call you to the stand as a witness, Greg Elliot will cross-examine you. He may look like a teddy bear, but he’s a shark. He’ll ask the hard questions. You have to be ready to respond without getting upset.”
“Do you think you’ll call Jason as a witness?” Michelle glanced at Jason, so he didn’t feel as if she were talking about him, like he wasn’t in the room.
Norman thrummed his fingers on his desk. “I don’t know yet. That’s why we’re having this conversation. I don’t normally call defendants, but, if I have a likeable, smart, and attractive client, like Jason, I might.”
***
Michelle drove them on I-99 South through the mountains toward home. The winter sun made a rare appearance, heating the inside of her BMW like a greenhouse. Jason stared out the window in a trance. Norman Tuttle had the police report but little else. He had said that they’d have a much better sense of the commonwealth’s case after the preliminary hearing and pretrial discovery. Michelle worried about what they might say about Jason in open court.
Jason turned from the window and said, “I think we should sell the house and my business.”
Michelle flashed Jason a confused look. “What? Why?”
“Even if I’m acquitted, my reputation will be ruined. If I wait, my business may be worth nothing, and then we can’t afford the house.”
“I think you’re jumping the gun a little.”
He shook his head. “No. The preliminary hearing is in two days. I might be too late.”
Michelle gripped the steering wheel, staring at the road. If he’s innocent, why would he give up so easily?
Chapter 21: The Preliminary Hearing
Judge Ames sat behind her desk on high. The courtroom clerk sat to the judge’s left, behind a shorter desk. Three deputies were strategically positioned around the packed courtroom. The audience crowded into eight rows of wooden pews separated by a center aisle.
Michelle sat in the front pew, on the left-hand side, directly behind the defense table, separated from Jason and Norman by a short wooden partition. From her perspective, she saw the back of Jason’s head. He hadn’t looked back during the hearing. Norman had instructed him to keep his eyes forward and to not show any emotion.
Michelle scanned the audience, recognizing many people, her stomach fluttering with nerves. Frank, Ruth, and Susie sat on right-hand side, a few rows back, along with neighbors, former classmates, and Danny. Susie sneered at Michelle. Michelle turned back around, listening to the prosecuting attorney.
Greg Elliot stood behind the podium, between the prosecution and defense tables, facing the judge. He opened the folder and held up a small stack of stapled papers. A red tab was at the top, identifying the exhibit. Elliot spoke into the mike. “The commonwealth’s exhibit number seven is the lab report completed on January 10, 2000, by the Pennsylvania State Police Crime Lab, and authored by Ashley Watson, who performed the DNA testing. Your Honor, this report indicates with mathematical certainty that the semen found on the victim’s underwear matches the DNA of the defendant. May I approach the bench?”
A murmur of hushed whispering came from the crowd.
Michelle already knew about this evidence, but she reddened, embarrassed by the revelation in open court.
Judge Ames motioned for Elliot to bring her the DNA report.
Elliot delivered the exhibit, then returned to the podium.
Judge Ames thumbed through the report, then she addressed Elliot. “Please proceed, Mr. Elliot.”
“The commonwealth calls Ruth Murphy to the stand,” Elliot said, glancing back to the audience.
One of the deputies led Ruth through the small door in the wooden partition to the witness stand, next to the judge. After the court clerk swore her in, Greg Elliot asked her questions about the events leading up to finding the bloody underwear and the events immediately afterward.
Ruth talked about Jason being alone with the victim on Christmas Eve and Christmas night in the basement. Becky’s name was never mentioned, always being referred to as the victim or Alice, her pseudonym to protect her privacy. Ruth talked about “Alice” wetting her bed late on Christmas night, and, in the process of cleaning her up, noticed dried blood on her underwear. When she asked why she had blood on her underwear, Alice stated that the man hurt her pee-pee part.
Michelle gazed at her mother on the stand and thought, We may never speak again.
Norman cross-examined Ruth, asking her about what happened to the victim’s underwear between her removing it and it ending up as police evidence. Norman did his best to try to trip her up and to make her question or contradict her prior testimony, but Ruth was competent, even though she appeared nervous, as she wrung her hands.
After Ruth, Greg Elliot said, “The commonwealth calls Lori Ross-Grasso.”
A petite woman with stringy dirty-blond hair and tight jeans emerged from the audience. She appeared to be in her thirties, with hooded eyes that were too wide set. She was led to the witness stand by a bailiff, where she was sworn in by the court clerk. Michelle knew her by name but had never met Jason’s half sister or his mother. He had said that he had to cut them out of his life because they were toxic.
Greg Elliot stood from the prosecution table. His belly hung over his belt, putting downward pressure on his pants. He hitched up his pants and took his place behind the podium. “Could you give your full name for the court and your relationship to the defendant?”
Lori spoke into the microphone attached to the witness stand. “I’m Lori Grasso. That’s my married name. I used to be Lori Ross. I’m Jason Lewis’s half sister.”
“For the court, could you please point out Jason Lewis.”
Lori pointed at Jason. “He’s right there in the gray suit.”
Jason stared straight ahead, not looking directly at his half sister.
“Let the record show that Mrs. Grasso pointed out the defendant,” Elliot said to the judge. Then he turned his attention back to Lori. “How long did you live in the same house with the defendant?”
“Until I was fifteen, and he went away to college. So, I guess fifteen years,” Lori replied.
“How much older than you is the defendant?”
“Three years and a few months.”
“Did he ever molest you as a child?”
Jason still stared straight ahead, showing no emotion.
Michelle cringed, her stomach turning.
Norman shot out of his seat. “Objection, Your Honor. This is extremely prejudicial. What Mr. Lewis allegedly did as a minor has no relevancy in this case. This is pure character assassination.”
Elliot said, “It’s very relevant, Your Honor. It’s the exact same crime. It establishes a prior pattern of deviant behavior.”
Judge Ames pursed her lips, thinking for a moment. “I agree with Mr. Tuttle. Unless Mrs. Grasso has knowledge pertinent to this case, her testimony is inadmissible.” Ames addressed Lori. “You may step down, Mrs. Grasso.”
A bailiff led her back to the audience.
“Does the commonwealth have any other witnesses?” Judge Ames asked.
“Ye
s, Your Honor, the commonwealth calls Detective Jessica Wells.”
The petite fortysomething detective emerged from the audience, wearing a dark-blue pantsuit and heels. She was sworn in and sat at the witness stand. Detective Wells identified herself and her connection to the case. Elliot asked a few questions about her experience in law enforcement, establishing her competency.
Greg Elliot held up the folder and said, “These are the commonwealth’s exhibits, numbered eight and nine. These are the transcripts from Detective Wells’ videotaped interview with the victim in the early morning hours of December 26 and again on December 30.” Elliot waddled to the judge, handing her the evidence. Then he returned to the podium and turned his attention back to Detective Wells. “Did the victim identify the defendant as the perpetrator?”
“Yes, she did,” Wells replied.
“What exactly did she say? If you can’t remember, I’m sure Judge Ames will let you borrow the transcript.”
“I remember.” Wells glared across the courtroom at Jason for a beat. “I asked her who hurt her private part. She said, ‘Jason,’ without hesitation.”
Jason dipped his head.
A few whispers came from the audience.
Michelle swallowed the bile creeping up her throat.
Elliot pushed his glasses up his nose. “Did you ask her what he did specifically?”
“Yes, I did,” Wells replied.
“What was her response?”
“At the time we were using dolls to identify where she was hurt. She said, ‘He poked me with his finger.’”
Murmuring came from the audience. Michelle cringed again. The room swirled around her.
Detective Wells continued. “When she said that, she pointed to the doll’s crotch area. She also said, ‘He made me put my mouth on it.’”
A collective gasp came from the audience. More than a few angry eyes looked toward Michelle and Jason. Michelle cowered, her face hot with shame.
“The victim demonstrated oral sex by placing the crotch of the boy doll on the girl doll’s face.”
Michelle stood from the pew. Everyone gawked or sneered at her. She staggered from the courtroom, nauseated, her world spinning. She went to the ladies’ room, opened a stall, fell to her knees, and prayed to the God of Porcelain, leaving red bile from her empty stomach as an offering. She dry-heaved, tears streaming down her face. When she finally stopped retching, she sat on the cold tile, catching her breath, her throat raw and burning.
She staggered to her feet, went to the line of sinks, and washed her hands. The bathroom was empty. Then she cupped her hands under the faucet, collecting a small pool, and brought it to her mouth. Michelle rinsed out her mouth and spat several times. She looked in the mirror, leaning on the counter. Her mascara had run down her cheeks. Her eyes were red and puffy. She wiped off her mascara with a damp paper towel. What the hell am I going to do? How did I not know?
Michelle left the bathroom, nearly running into Danny Gibbs. She stopped in her tracks, bowed her head, and said, “Excuse me.” She expected a lecture that she couldn’t stomach.
“You okay?” Danny asked, wearing slacks and a button-down shirt.
Michelle shook her head, and the tears welled in her eyes again.
Danny reached out and embraced her.
Michelle was limp and surprised at first. Then she reciprocated, burying her head in his neck, sobbing.
He rubbed her back, holding her tight. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
She sniffled and said, “It’s my fault. I brought him to Becky.”
“No. It’s his fault.”
Michelle let go of Danny and stepped back. “I’m sorry. I should go.”
“Where?”
Michelle rubbed her eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t have anywhere to go. I can’t go home. I can’t stay with my parents. I can’t …”
“You can stay with me for a few days, until you figure out what you wanna do.”
Michelle hesitated, searching Danny’s face. At that moment, she didn’t see the man who had cheated on her with her best friend. She saw the beautiful boy she’d fallen in love with at fifteen. She sniffled and said, “Thank you.”
They left the courthouse together.
Chapter 22: It’s a New Day
Sunlight slipped between the blinds, warming Michelle’s face. Her eyes fluttered and opened. For a few seconds, she thought it was all a nightmare, but then she remembered. She lay on Danny’s queen-size bed, under his plaid comforter. His bedroom was small compared to what she was used to. She rose from the bed, placing her bare feet on the carpet. She crept to the attached bathroom. Danny’s T-shirt hung to midthigh, covering her underwear.
She peed, washed her hands, and brushed her teeth. Danny had given her a new toothbrush to use. While she brushed her teeth, she replayed the preliminary hearing in her mind. I still can’t believe he did it. Michelle swallowed the lump in her throat, resisting the urge to cry. My marriage is a lie. My life is a lie. She washed her face and combed her hair, using Danny’s comb. Then she returned to his bedroom, found some socks and cotton sweats from his dresser.
The clinking of plates and silverware and the crackling of bacon frying came from the kitchen. Michelle left the bedroom, walking down the short hall to the living room. A big-screen TV dominated the living room, along with a black leather couch and a full bar. Danny’s blanket and pillow were still on the couch from the night before. He had been kind enough to take the couch.
Michelle stepped into the kitchen.
Danny worked two skillets at the same time, one with scrambled eggs, the other with bacon. He took the bacon skillet off the burner and turned to Michelle. “Good morning, sleepyhead. Hungry?”
She lifted one shoulder. “Not really.”
Danny frowned. “You really need to eat something.”
Michelle hadn’t eaten in twenty-four hours. She nodded and replied, “Need any help?”
The toast popped.
“I got it.” He gestured to the nearby kitchen table for two. “Have a seat. Relax. What do you want to drink? I have OJ, water, milk, coffee.”
“Water’s fine.”
Danny served scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon, with water for Michelle and coffee for himself. He sat across from Michelle and said, “Dig in.”
They ate in silence for a minute.
“Thank you … for everything,” Michelle said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Danny swallowed his bacon and replied, “Anytime.” He sipped his coffee. “Have you decided what you wanna do?”
Michelle hesitated.
“I’m not trying to rush you. You can stay here as long as you want.”
Michelle let out a breath. “I have to reconcile with my family, and I have to divorce Jason. What other choice do I have?”
Danny shrugged. “I don’t know, but it sounds like you gotta good plan.”
“I thought about it a lot last night. I let my feelings for Jason cloud my judgment. My dad tried to tell me.” She stared at her plate. “I didn’t listen.”
“Well, you’re listening now. That’s what matters. I’m sure your parents will forgive you.” He sipped his coffee.
Michelle looked up. “What about Susie? She hates me.”
He set down his Fraternal Order of Police coffee mug. “That might be more difficult, but none of this was your fault.”
She pushed her eggs around with her fork. “Why do I feel so guilty and so stupid?”
Danny frowned again. “Don’t do that. Don’t beat yourself up.”
Michelle shook her head. “It’s hard not to. I’m a teacher. I’m around kids every day, and I’m married to a fucking pedophile.”
“Stop. You’re spiraling. You need to keep your head.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
***
After breakfast, Michelle drove to her parents’ house, wearing the skirt suit she’d worn to the preliminary hearing the day before. She parked next to Frank’s F
-150, stepped to the front door, and rang the doorbell. She didn’t dare walk in without being invited.
Frank came to the door with a knitted brow, guarding the threshold. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to apologize. I didn’t …” She choked up, her eyes glassy. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”
Frank stepped onto the stoop and hugged his daughter. He kissed the top of her head. “I know you didn’t.”
When they separated, Michelle sniffled and said, “I’m leaving him.”
“Good. Let’s get out of the cold.” Frank led her inside to the dining room. “Did you have breakfast?”
Michelle nodded. “Danny made eggs and bacon.”
Frank turned to Michelle with raised eyebrows.
“Nothing happened, Dad.”
“I always thought you two were perfect for each other.”
Michelle sighed. “So did I.”
Frank sat at the dining room table, his paper and coffee before him. “What’s the plan, Shelly?”
Michelle took off her jacket, hung it on the chair, and sat across from him. “Obviously, I need to talk to Susie.”
Frank nodded.
“I don’t think I can teach. I’m not emotionally healthy right now. It’s not fair to my students. I was thinking about taking a leave of absence, so I need to talk to my principal.”
“You’re welcome to stay here, if you need to.”
“Thanks, Dad. Maybe just until the trial’s over.” Michelle leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table, and her hands clasped like she was praying. “And I need to tell Jason it’s over.”
Chapter 23: Fifty Percent of Marriages …
Michelle sat on her childhood bed, the door to her room shut. She held her parents’ cordless phone, her heart beating a mile a minute. With a shaky finger, she dialed Jason’s office, but he wasn’t there. Then she tried their home phone. He picked up on the first ring.
“Michelle?”
“Yes,” she replied, her tone icy.
“Thank God. You disappeared at the trial. I was so worried about you. Where did you go? I had to rent a car to get home.”
Redemption Page 7
