Holly tossed the last of her hotdog in her sack and then took a sip from her drink. “Everything was always for him – his pool table in the basement, his new car, his golf clubs...his everything. He wanted to make his dad think he was successful. Half the time, the washing machine didn’t work, but that was not Mark’s problem. I got even though. I left the washing machine, the pool table, and his stupid golf clubs in the house when I moved out. I even left all his clothes there. His parents had to buy a new suit for him to wear to court and I don’t feel one bit bad about that.”
“His parents haven’t offered to help you?”
“Are you kidding? They haven’t even asked to see the girls. Mark probably told them the babies are not his. Best thing that’s happened so far today is not having to sit beside my father-in-law.” She puffed her cheeks. “Jackie, I don’t mean to unload on you.”
“I completely understand. When my husband drank himself to death, a very good man listened to me for hours. I doubt I will ever be able repay him for that.”
Carl puffed his chest. “She means me. You’re welcome, Jackie.”
“Really?” Holly asked. “He drank himself to death? How awful.”
“Well, someone took our son, you see. We already owned a detective agency that searched for other people’s missing children, but we couldn’t find our own son.” Jackie hadn’t told that to anyone in years, and felt a sudden twinge of pain. Fortunately, it didn’t last long.
“I am so sorry. I can’t imagine losing a child. Are you still looking for him?”
“Every day. I’ll keep looking for as long as I draw breath.”
Holly took one more sip and then set her soda on the bench beside her. “Good for you.”
“Tell me, if you moved away, and you are sure Mark killed Mrs. Lockhart, why did you come back for the trial?”
“I have two little girls, and someday they are going to ask me whatever happened to dear old dad. When I tell them, I want to be able to say I was there and I heard everything with my own ears.”
“Well then, I applaud you for that. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Being my friend is all I could ever ask of anyone these days. The case is being followed in the Salt Lake papers too. It’s so embarrassing, but no one at home seems to blame me for anything. It’s just that they ask questions and I get tired of answering them over and over, especially when they are strangers.”
“You could change your name after this is over. It’s real easy to do and I doubt a judge would deny it.”
Holly giggled. “I could remarry too.”
“That would work. Just don’t rush into anything. It’s cheaper to get it done through the courts.”
“Did you marry again?”
“Not yet, but...” she forgot Michael and Carl were listening and stopped in midsentence.
“But what?” Holly asked.
Jackie shrugged. “That’s another story. We better go back in.” She stood up, took Holly’s lunch bag, added it to hers, and dropped them both in the can beside the door. She took one last sip of her drink and dropped it in too.
“Carl,” Michael said, “you know what she’s talking about? What story?”
Jackie could hear Carl’s far off voice say, “I don’t know, why you don’t ask her when she gets home?”
“I think I will.”
Getting back inside the courtroom meant they had to walk around to the front of the building, climb the steps, and make their way through shouting reporters. Just before they turned the corner, Jackie pulled Holly aside. “I’ll catch up with you in a minute.”
“Okay, I’ll save you a place.” Bravely, Holly put her head down and went around the corner.
“Smart move, Jackie,” said Carl. “We don’t want our client to see your picture on TV or in the newspapers. She would know where we are and probably catch the next flight here.”
Jackie turned her back to the crowd and brought her medallion up to her lips. “We need to find a better way in and out. I need to be close to the front and Holly can do that for us.”
“I’m on it,” said Carl. “But I remind you it is a courthouse with high security.”
Michael stroked the side of his cheek. “I know, we’ll drop you on the roof from a helicopter.”
Jackie would have said something about that, but several people were approaching. She turned back around, skirted the side of the press, and walked up the steps unnoticed.
Once again, the courtroom was filled to capacity, although there were different faces. The important members of the court came back in, the jury was reassembled, and the DA called his next witness.
“THE PEOPLE CALL MRS. Norma Childers.”
“Oh goodie, I’ve been waiting for her to testify,” said Michael. “Miss Childers has given several interviews to the press and she doesn’t hold back.” He laced his hands behind his head and scooted down a little, although there was nothing uncomfortable about the sofa he sat on, even with a computer on his lap.
As she promised, Holly saved a seat in the front for her. Jackie turned to watch when the door in the back of the courtroom opened, and a woman who looked to be in her fifties walked in. She had obviously dyed her hair dark recently, which accented her blue eyes. The bailiff directed Norma Childers to the witness chair, the clerk swore her in, and she took a seat. The moment she was settled, she made a point of glaring at each of Mrs. Lockhart’s four children.
DA Davis gathered his notes and took a position at the lectern. “Please state your name and occupation for the record.”
“My name is Norma Childers and I used to be a housekeeper.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Childers. Before her murder, did you work for Mrs. Amelia Lockhart?”
“I did.”
“And do you recognize the woman in the portrait?”
The housekeeper took a deep breath. “Yes, sir, that’s poor Mrs. Amelia Lockhart.”
“Do you know how long ago this portrait was painted?”
“About five years ago. She was delighted with the way it turned out, and had it hung above the fireplace in her library.”
Michael gasped. “Five years ago and her children looked like they had never seen it? How is that possible?”
“Did Mrs. Lockhart reside at 4415 Redwood Blvd?” the DA asked.
“That’s right.”
“How long have you worked for the Lockharts?”
“Well, let me see. I got hired on not long after I came to Portland, and that’s been twenty-five years this July.” Davis dropped a paper on the floor and she watched him pick it up, but she didn’t wait for him to ask the next question. “One of those bratty kids of hers killed her.”
Davis was not pleased. “Mrs. Childers...”
“Miss.”
“Very well, Miss Childers, please just answer the questions. Mrs. Lockhart’s children are not on trial here.”
She raised her voice. “Well, they should be. It’s been ten years since a one of them came to see her on Mother’s Day and the like. All they ever came for was money.”
“Jackie, the public defender is grinning,” said Carl.
Davis looked pleadingly at the judge, but the judge said nothing, so he turned his attention back to the witness. “Again,” the DA continued, “I ask that you please confine your answers to my questions. Now, at the time of her murder, did you have a set of keys to Mrs. Lockhart’s house?”
“Yes, sir.”
“To your knowledge, does anyone else have a key?”
“Not that I know of, although she might have given a key to Melissa so she could escape her rotten husband. Mrs. Lockhart got the lock changed a couple of years ago. She sure wouldn’t have given keys to any of her other children, not that they ever called or came by to see how she was getting on. Selfish brats.”
Davis ignored that outburst. “Miss Childers, was Friday, June 12th one of your usual cleaning days?”
“It was.”
“On the morning of June 12th, di
d you let yourself into Mrs. Lockhart’s house?”
“Mrs. Lockhart’s children look a little uneasy for some reason,” said Michael, “but I can see why. I heard somewhere that housekeepers know everything. Maybe this one knows who hired Mark Barrett.”
Norma frowned. “I didn’t have to unlock it, the door was already unlocked.”
“About what time was that?”
“Promptly at 9:00 a.m., just like always.”
“Do you normally enter through the front door?”
“I do. I park on the street and go to the front door. It’s the only door I have a key to.”
“Did Mrs. Lockhart often leave her door unlocked?”
“No, sir, not once in twenty-five years that I know of. Even when she went out early to get the paper, she locked the door when she went back inside. She was careful that way.”
“When you entered the house, did you notice anything out of place?”
“Everything was just the way she liked it to be – only the house smelled something awful and the heat was turned up full blast again. Mrs. Lockhart was on blood thinners, so she was usually cold and kept the house hot, at least too hot for me.”
“You said the house smelled awful that morning?”
Norma Childers hung her head. “It smelled like death. I’ve smelled death before and I figured she was gone, but I thought she passed in her sleep, peaceful like. Come to find out, she died that Tuesday night and lay in her own blood for three full days.” Norma sneered at the four Lockhart children. “How you must have suffered...having to wait three whole days to hear she was finally dead.”
“Miss Childers,” said Davis, “I truly prefer that you answer yes or no to my questions.”
Norma narrowed her eyes. “That won’t stop me.” She paid no attention to the chuckles in the courtroom. Instead, she turned her glare on the man she recognized from his picture in the paper – Mark Barrett.
“I don’t suppose it will stop you,” a frustrated Davis mumbled. “Your Honor, I...”
“Yes,” the judge agreed. “Miss Childers, please confine your remarks to the questions asked.” He raised an eyebrow when she shot him a look of contempt too.
Davis took a sip of water and composed himself a little before he continued. “What did you do when you suspected Mrs. Lockhart was dead?”
“Well, I felt bad that she died alone, and thought the least I could do was to make certain she was covered up when they came to take her away.”
“What did you do then?”
“I covered my mouth with a dishtowel, went upstairs and called out to her. I knew she wouldn’t answer, but it was the polite thing to do. Her bedroom door was wide open and it didn’t take long to see what had happened. Poor Mrs. Lockhart, what an awful way to die. I don’t think I’ll ever get that image out of my mind.”
“What did you do next?” Davis asked.
“Well, I watch those cop shows like everybody else, so I knew not to touch anything. I went back out the front door and called 911 on my cellphone. Then I waited until the police arrived.”
“I see. What did you do after the police arrived?”
“You mean after I stopped crying?”
“Yes,” Davis answered.
“Well, I stayed outside mostly, and let them do their work. After they took her away, they asked me to come inside and see if anything was missing.”
“Did you have occasion to look in her jewelry box?”
“I did.”
“Did you notice if some of her jewels were missing?”
“I couldn’t tell. I had no reason to check what she had in her box on a regular basis, but I knew everything was insured. Mrs. Lockhart took pictures and kept a list of valuables in a desk drawer in her office. Funny thing, there was a Ming Dynasty vase on a table in the library, and it wasn’t taken. I guess the killer wasn’t up on his treasures. That vase must be worth...”
This time, it was the defense attorney who objected. “Your Honor, we have not yet established whether the perpetrator was a man or a woman.”
“My money is on one of her sons,” Norma Childers, muttered.
“Objection,” said the DA. “Your Honor, the witness is voicing an opinion.”
The judge sighed. “Mr. Livingston, your objection is sustained. Miss Childers, again, please confine your remarks to the questions asked.”
The witness turned up her nose, ignored the judge, and used the opportunity to glare at her employer’s eldest son again.
Michael chuckled. “He may look like a stern judge, but I think he is enjoying this. I bet he doesn’t run into a lot of witnesses who refuse to even to look at him.”
“Like I was saying,” Miss Childers continued anyway, “that vase is worth tens of thousands. I looked it up and some Ming Dynasty vases sell for as much as a million dollars. Of course, that is just one of the treasures she kept around the house.”
“Wait, wouldn’t her children have known that?” Michael asked. “Maybe not. They didn’t know about the portrait. I’ve been watching Mark Barrett. He raised his eyebrow when he heard how much the vase was worth. I heard somewhere defendants are told not to react, but I guess he couldn’t help himself. I was hoping he would look at one of Mrs. Lockhart’s children, but he hasn’t yet.”
“Maybe he feels guilty for killing their mother,” said Carl.
“Or he’s scared to look for fear he might give away which one hired him.”
“Let’s continue,” the DA said. “Miss Childers, how many times a week did you do Mrs. Lockhart’s housekeeping?”
“Twice a week. Once on Tuesday and again on Friday.”
“What were your normal duties?”
“The usual. I took out the trash, ran the vacuum, dusted, and did the laundry. Sometimes there were dishes in the sink to do, but Mrs. Lockhart liked feeling independent and usually turned on the dishwasher herself. On the days she left dishes for me to do, it was a sure sign she wasn’t feeling well.”
“How old was she?”
“We had just celebrated her sixty-seventh birthday. I brought over a little cake and we each had a slice. Her bratty children didn’t even send a card.”
Davis briefly frowned, and then moved on. “Without telling us what she said, were you asked to live with her?”
“Yes sir. She was having a little trouble keeping her balance, and wanted someone to be there in case she fell. I was supposed to move some of my things in that next weekend.”
“Would that have been Saturday, June 13th and 14th?”
“Yes. I thank the good Lord I wasn’t there that night or I would be dead too.”
“Miss Childers, did you tell anyone about your plans to move in?”
“Just my neighbor, so she could watch my place, and the postman, so my mail wouldn’t pile up. I already had the newspaper delivery stopped and I had a devil of a time getting that fixed back up.”
“To your knowledge, did Mrs. Lockhart tell anyone you were moving in?”
“She might have, but I didn’t hear her tell anyone.”
“Now,” Davis asked, “did you notice any strangers in the neighborhood that week?”
“Only that one over there.” She nodded toward the defendant.
“Miss Childers, would you be so kind as to point out the man you saw for the Jury?”
She pointed, and then said, “I saw that one over there, but I doubt he killed her without help from her bratty kids.”
“Miss Childers,” said Judge Blackwell, “I caution you once again to keep your opinions to yourself. This is a court of law and there are rules that must be followed.”
Norma finally looked him in the eye. “I could say I don’t give a hang about your rules, Judge, but being as how you asked politely, I’ll try.”
“Thank you, Miss Childers. You may proceed, Counselor.”
Davis nodded his appreciation to the judge. “Let the record reflect that the witness pointed to the defendant, Mr. Mark Barrett. Miss Childers, how many times did
you see him that week?”
“Twice, that I recall. Once, he was in the alley and I thought he might be going through our trash looking for Mrs. Lockhart’s personal identification, you know, to steal her identity. Mrs. Lockhart was careful about that though and it wouldn’t have done him any good. She shredded all her bank statements, telephone records – everything that came in the mail got shredded.”
“And the second time you saw Mr. Barrett?” Davis asked.
“He was just walking down the street looking at things. He looked Mrs. Lockhart’s house over real close that day, but I never thought he would shoot her. Mrs. Lockhart never hurt a fly. She...”
“Miss Childers, I have just one more question. Before that time, had you ever seen Mr. Barrett?”
“I might have, but I never met him formal like. If I had, I would remember. He’s a handsome man, but then, I’m sure everyone knows that. Too bad he’s taking the fall for this instead of the real killers.”
“Thank you, Miss Childers. I have no more questions at this time.”
Michael chuckled. “Davis looks relieved to have that over with. Livingston looks like a cat that ate the canary. I can’t think of a better defense than to have someone else to blame, and he’s got four other suspects to choose from.”
LIVINGSTON SLOWLY STOOD up and cleared his throat. He didn’t bother to go to the lectern, not just yet anyway. “Miss Childers, do you know of anyone who might have had a reason to kill Mrs. Lockhart?”
She mocked, “Only her four beloved children.”
“I object,” said the DA.
“Of course you do,” The defense attorney returned.
“Overruled,” said the judge. Davis looked astounded, but the judge ignored him.
“Thank you, Your Honor,” said Livingston. “At this time, I would like to reserve the right to call this witness later when the defense presents its case.”
“Granted,” said Judge Blackwell.
“Thank you, Your Honor.” Livingstone sat back down.
“Any redirect, Mr. Davis?”
“Not at this time, but the state also reserves the right to recall this witness at a later time.”
“Granted,” said the judge. “Mrs. Childers, you are excused. The court will notify you when we want you to come back.”
Greed and a Mistress Page 6
